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

[Tart]

Prologue (Rewrite)​

" " = Speech
' ' = Thoughts

Vox Frequency: *ERROR*
Vox Channel: *ERROR*
SIGNAL STRENGTH ESTIMATION: *CRITICAL ERROR VOX DAMAGED*
Broadcasting: ~0~
Receiving: ~0~
Time Until Next Signal Cogitation: *CRITICAL ERROR VOX DAMAGED*
*WARNING*
*TECH-ADEPT REQUIRED FOR VOX REPAIRS*

(Kaon POV)

829.M30 - Proxima - Capital City Centauri - Procession Hall

Children of the Emperor, Death to his foes! - The Third Legion
​

'My.....vox is damaged? Is that important?.....I.....I can't seem to remember......my head......something is wrong.' I think aloud to myself, confused and disoriented my vison momentarily blurry before clearing up.

Upon assessing my surroundings, I'm only able to glean darkness and vox text, noting the heavy feeling of rubble pressing down on my body. My observations doing little to explain what's happening or how I got here, the thought causing a deep aching sensation inside my head the pain pulsing intermittently, my mind struggling to form any coherent memories that are useful enough to paint a full picture.

Eventually, I'm able to piece small images and memories together forming a picture, but it feels wrong. Fragmented and stitched together forcefully, the best way I can describe it is like the right pieces of a puzzle slotting into the wrong puzzle set.

'Who am I? I....I remember a battle...no, an ambush......vortex weapon....no....a car crash.......but that shouldn't have me.....right? But I know an aberration of the immaterium.....no...a........demon 'Drach'nyen'...attacked the...emperor......?....impossible...demons aren't real.....but I remember them.....but from where?' As fast as those thoughts appear something changes inside me, my eyes begin to grow heavy while a cold feeling starts to envelope my body, and something deep inside me starts slipping away towards a vast ocean.

My consciousness starts retreating into my mind instinctively to protect myself, but the darkness pulling my soul latches onto me like parasite following my soul into the depths of my mind, the vast ocean fully in view in my inner world the silence of the ocean beckoning me to sleep and give in to its pull.

'No, not an ocean....the Immaterium...the......the warp....! I have to stay awake.......I can't let chaos take my soul.....wait...........what's chaos......How do I........know this......?' The feeling of wrongness grows at my train of thought, like the answer is on the edge of my tongue but continues to dance around the edge of my brain. Frustration welling up inside myself at my inability to piece together the answer right in front of me, a sensation that something wrong is happening growing inside me.

But I get little time to think or dwell on that feeling before the cold numbing sensation spreads around my body, like something heard my thoughts or rather that something is watching in the abyss in front of me, the pulling on my soul becoming faster, and the darkness growing heavier while I feel myself free falling towards the immaterium......no, the warp.

Like four hands pulling a rope that my soul is connected to, four gaping maws, open and ready to devour everything that I am and take something, a piece of me that a part of my soul is screaming to hold onto. But nothing I do can stop the pull.

'Am I.....dying...? No, I can't die.....I still have so much left to do.....college.......my family....my brothers.........the great crusade.....I still need to warn the emperor...of Horus............wait...that's not right.........Horus is......is.......a traitor......Warhammer 40k?' A sense of horror starts building inside me at the realization, at the world breaking fragments of information my soul possess and the implications of letting these beings take my soul.

'I was a human......not just from Europa....but from Earth.....it's small but there..... that life....I can barely remember......but I know enough.....they can NOT have my soul, no matter the costs.' Disgust and rejection for these gods begin filling my insides, along with something else.....pride in my humanity, in everything that made me human in both lives, and these emotions give me the courage and strength to scream in defiance towards these twisted gods.

'NO.....no....I am....I AM KAON GAUST.....captain of the third legion, noble son of Europa.....of Terra....of Earth....An Astartes......a Human...a man....Do you hear me!....My soul is my own.....and all of you.......I reject you all......now and forever.........whatever you craven gods....seek...I would rather die then give it to you in this life or the next.....humanitas in aeternum....because.....anything less.....is not worthy of humanity!' I scream out internally towards the void indignantly, my thoughts met with a harsher pull as every fiber of my soul screams out in resistance and pride in what I am, a human, a man, an Astartes, and I'd be damned if I let my soul fall into the hands of these things.

'I die on my terms, not yours, I deny you all your prize......go fuck yourselves!' I roar at them in my mind, my thoughts projecting towards the four a mix of my current and past life screaming out, my mind giving up resisting the pull of the dark god to channel my strength into a more desperate measure of preventing them from getting my soul.

Their gazes inevitably moving from my soul to each other from my lack of resistance, the idea of victory inevitable to them, their focus moving to each other, as they begin using their dark powers to interfere with each other and deny their rivals of the prize in front of them, their temporary alliance over.

'I don't want to die, but if the alternative is getting taken by them.....then I welcome death.' The distraction gives me a brief time to come to peace with my shattered existence of the regrets of both my lives, my mind resolved to go to any lengths to stop them, to deny them an advantage against humanity, the parts of my that make me a Space Marine, an Astartes, suppressing my fear, and the human half of my soul human defying their corrupting influence.

Through sheer force of will I begin the process of tearing my own soul apart, reaching into the cracks present in my soul to speed up the process, a deep pain soul consuming pain enveloping me as the cracks in my soul grow bigger.

My actions catching the four off guard, the casual assurance of their victory gone, the prize in front of them threatening to disappear into the void, surprise turning to anger and desperation at being denied victory by a mere human.

I reject them all, from the god of blood, to the plague father, the changer of ways, and she who thirsts. I spit on all their so called promises, their words worth little more then the rubble my body is pinned under. My mind at peace with my choice, my soul glowing dimmer and dimmer.

Their whispers getting quieter as I feel a light surround me and I begin to embrace painful oblivion. 'Wait....light?' and I pause as the darkness is replaced by something more blinding, an enormous presence roused by the actions of the four.

"Do not do this Kaon.....join us....embrace the warp.......there are so many wonde-" They try to whisper to me one last time in futility their words cut off by him.

"Silence, his soul is not yours to take. You have all failed, now begone!" He spoke briefly but with an air of control, and light filled all corners of my mind pushing the four away.

His gaze pulling my soul out of their grasp with a gesture. The damage I inflicted to my soul mending from a single mental touch of his finger even improving, my soul stabilizing as my broken psyche begins connecting properly, memories being organized under his eyes.

And through it all he can see everything, my soul an open book to him, my past, my present and even my future all beholden to him and his mastery over the immaterium.

'I'm alive? This....this light.......I know it.....it's......' Something familiar that holds onto me something warm, bright, the feeling is weak but it's there, compelling me to find the truth of my slowly mending psyche and suddenly a name appears in my memories, a name that a part of me in my current life knows down to the genetic level, my body kneeling instinctively in my mental landscape.

"The emperor of mankind." I say out loud, hearing my own voice for the first time, an amalgam of my two lives, distorted and not fully whole, a shattered thing. A being that looks as far away from human as possible, a soul stitched together with human and Astartes limbs rammed together to make a barely human shape.

"Kaon, we have much to talk about, but this is a conversation to have later when we have the assurance of privacy until then....All you need to know is this, I am not your enemy. You are a broken shattered soul, taken apart by the Immaterium, stitched back together.....misaligned, but a soul more complete and human then before. Knowing things that have yet to be or might be, but ultimately still broken...an outlier in my design....but like clay I will mold you, you who has given himself to humanity and rejected the ruinous powers." His voice begins washing over me, my soul changing, and then I see his hand reaching for his shoulder pulling something off outstretched towards me but not forcing either part of me to choose.

"But what about my life, my choice, my family, you can't expect me to be a hero and help you! Heroes, they make a choice, I never got one!" The part of my old life yells out to the Emperor, pain lacing his voice, a pain that echoes in my own shared soul as memories of a life long gone flashes inside my mind.

"I can not give you the past you desire, I wish I could say otherwise, I truly do. But I am sorry, as powerful I am, I am only human in the end." The emperor says sadly, a glimmer of the man behind the gold showing itself.

And suddenly I know why the Emperor chose to look as humanity as a species and not an individual. Because he cared far too much, to the point where the weight of his pain forced him to detach himself from humanity, his ancient soul burdened by the suffering and triumph of countless humans before me.

"Of course you can, you're the emperor for Christ's sake!" My other half shouts out, more in desperation then anything, his connection to me letting him know the grim truth, what he wants is simply outside the Emperor's power. A feeling of despair washing over both of us, and I can't help but find it within myself to empathize with him, he never made this choice, not like I did so long ago in Europa, when the noble houses kneeled before the emperor during the unification wars.

"Just answer this, does losing ever get easier? How can you not feel anything after living so long?" He.....No, I ask the emperor, both parts of my soul looking at him now, the tyrant, the ruler, the man, and the many lives behind him while he offers his hand for me to take.

"It never does, I have lost much, but all I can do is move forward, for those lost in the dark and the memory of those who followed me in the past. That is the real battle Kaon, realizing that those connected to your history may not be part of your life, not forever." Something stirs in my soul at his words, and I take his hand, finding an ornate Aquilla in his outstretched palm. Nothing can even begin erasing the pain of the past or what I lost, but I begin accepting that who I was before is gone.

"I am Kaon, a space marine, now and forever, a defender of humanity." Taking the Aquilla from his hands changes something in my soul like a phoenix, a golden flame begins to engulf me and my once shattered psyche the Aquilla searing into the core of my being, changing me.

"I can't give you the past Kaon, but I can give you the present, I can promise the future, a future for all humanity and give you choice to use your knowledge for this life as my space marine. As one of my finest warriors, a bulwark against the terror a beacon for humanity.....Rise Kaon, Archon of Europa, rise as the first of the Emperor's Children...and fight." The light that follows embraces me, the feeling of being under the sun intensifying, my eyes opening, consciousness returning to my body. No time at all seeming to have past in real time despite the magnitude of the ordeal I had just experienced.

The rubble that once surrounded and pinned my broken body is gone, or rather it was destroyed by whatever the Emperor did to me and I find myself in a large hall, it's space encompassing several football fields. The gold of my purple armor now comprised of something else, Auramite. The Emperor's own personal Aquilla now adorning the chest, pauldrons, and helmet of my purple Ceramite armor. My body itself healed and improved to it's absolute peak, the Aquilla of the emperor protecting and empowering my soul beyond the level of mere Astartes and Custodes, the Emperor's personal symbol stamped onto the very core of my soul, sword and boltor in hand.

WHIRRRR......BANG

A single plasma shot echoes off in the large room, the large bolt hitting my helmet directly and dissipating into blue mist, my armor untouched as a golden glow shimmers around the new Auramite Aquilla's adorning my armor.

Turning to the source of the shot slowly I am greeted by the stunned looks of Astartes and human alike, the battle that was likely happening pausing at the spectacle of my rebirth and the golden Aquilla now adorning my armor. Noting the fallen forms of more than 200 my purple clad brothers a little more then half remaining but undeterred, and the unconscious form of the Emperor a deep wound on his armor, the Aquilla the once adorned his shoulder gone.

Looking at the very back of the human formations, I see the still glowing muzzle of a heavy plasma emplacement, and the shocked look on the faces of the team manning the weapon, my gaze calmly scanning the gathered human soldiers.....no, the human rebels. The tech abominations they surround themselves with, the mutations that take hold of the common soldiers, and it enrages me. My grip tightening it's hold on the familiar handle of my power sword, and the unfamiliar shape of the boltor in my grasp, looking down to see an ornate gold boltor adorned with bronze metal and a gold Aquilla, blue fire coming from the eyes of the Aquilla that adorns the Emperor's personal bolter.

"The emperor protects......in this case far more literally...." I muse quietly before moving casually through the warzone my casual pace beginning to pick up into something more my movements becoming faster until I am running at full speeds, the unprepared human rebels panicking and rushing to shoot at me.

And a familiar cry begins to build up inside me, decades of war making it almost instinct to say with Bolter raised in my hand before the enemies of the Emperor, my power sword whirring with power, ready to bisect any who come close.

"For the Emperor!!!!!"

I shout, my scream echoing across the Vox channel, the sound of my Boltor firing into rebels followed shortly after, the fire unending as I charge at them, a unique quirk of the Emperor's personal firearm, near limitless ammo, that turns the average rebel into a bloody mist, as boltor round meets body.

The cries of my brothers of the 16th cohort follow me shortly after my charge, filled with renewed vigor.

"Follow him!"

"Charge"

"Crush the rebel scum, for Terra, for the Imperium..."

"FOR THE EMPEROR!" A resounding cry that breaks the moral of the rebels in the large hall.

---

Author Note: Hello Hello, this is just a repost of my first work somewhere else. Still very much ongoing at my own pace and such. I will be posting the other stories and side stories soon.

Anyways let me know what you think and, byeeeeeeee

 

[Tart]

(Kaon POV)

829.M30 - Proxima - Capital City Centauri - Procession Hall

The Missile knows where it is at all times. It knows this because it knows where it isn't​

In another life I would have been disgusted by the gore and senselessness of it all, the death, the screams, the chaos. The horror in the first rebel's eyes when I reach melee distance.

But those feelings are a distant numb memory in this life, the past is dead, and these feeling aren't one that I need to show my enemies. Instead they receive my silent fury, no pomp or showmanship, just my single minded focus on breaking them, on making them bleed.

"M-monst-SLASH" The rebel screams trying desperately to kill me, a man with his own hopes and dreams.....

And how easily I snuff his life out, bisecting him in half. My power sword rolling in an arc already at an incoming tech abominations torso and splitting it in half while the severed parts of the human rebels body fly in the air, Boltor fire spewing out fire while I charge the panicked rebels and remaining abominations.

The screams of their leaders echo in the hall, trying to rally them but it is far too late, they will not take another of my brothers lives, not while I live. The Emperor was right, I can't live in a past that's long gone, but I can still fight for this life. For this family, for my legion, for my brothers, and for my Primarch.

"That's impossible why isn't he hesitating, what is he!"

SLASH BANG SLASH SLASH

"Shoot him, shoot him dammit, the goliaths can handle him if he get's close!"

To change their fate, the fate that my confusing past whispers to me in this life, and the horrors that await my brothers should I fail. A puzzle that I have yet to figure out, at least not while I still need to fight against these rebels. All of their guns, all their calls, the bad ones most of all, all weaknesses my brothers can exploit. So long as the rebels focus on me, as long as I push forward, and decimate their lines, there is nothing we cannot overcome with spite.

So I run faster charging ahead like the tip of the spear into the ranks of the enemies, devastating blows from abominations, anti armor shells, all manner of overwhelming fire they can muster hitting my Aquilla Armor.

"He's not human, he can't be! Nothing that big can move that fast!!!"

POP CRASH

"Nothing we can throw at him works!"

All of it is repelled by the glow of the Aquilla Armor and the dance of my power sword. The worst of the attacks repelled by the golden glow of the Aquilla Armor, the enemies within range swiftly cut down in return, the rest of the attacks that bypass the golden glow bounce harmlessly off the twin eagles adorning my armor. The rebels dying in droves, opening cracks in their formations, and exposing their heavy weapon platforms.

Crossing the distance in minutes and reaching the exit of the Procession Hall, a long swath of bodies behind me, abomination and human alike. While breaking their ranks further, tearing a turret crew to bloody ribbons with my sword, or simply running through them and turning them into a bloody mist.

My actions providing an opening my brothers take all too readily.

"He's only one kill him now! Don't panic god dammit! Don't PANIC!! We still have the capital city men, for every one of us they kill, ten more shall rise up and take their place! He's surrounded now so hold the fucking line an-BANG" A surprisingly beautiful sentiment from their leader, as long as you aren't the one they replace.....and a stupid mistake for their leader to make, a Boltor shot from one of my brothers turning him into a bloody mist.

The effect of the of their leaders dying begin snowballing into a full retreat from the rebels, not that they can get far before the remaining Astartes start dismantling them in precise coordinated strikes, the battle going from a rebel ambush to a rebel massacre.

Giving time for the survivors to rally and regroup.

"Well met warrior, but who are you? You bare our colors, but that armor, and that symbol......I've only seen that on the Custodes.....are you one of the legendary 10,000? Wait, that pauldron....you're.....An Astartes." A brother who manages to catch up to me begins to asks speaking out of turn before quickly saluting stiffly upon seeing my pauldron, denoting my rank as captain in the third legion.

I can already start hearing the questions over my vox from my brothers, the confusion, many having seen the miracle from earlier in stunned silence and the speed at which I broke the enemy and the emperor's personal symbol decorating my armor.

Questions with answers better saved for later, and detailed answers I'd like to give to them in a more secure setting.

But for now I have to settle for a brief run down.

"I am, Captain Kaon Gaust, third legion first company, the Emperor saved me. The rest of the details can wait for later, we need to regroup to the surface outside the Hall and contact the orbiting fleet to secure the Emperor and report the Proximan's betrayal, now move."

A quick salute from the gathered marines and affirmatives on the vox replaces the confusion, the Astartes of the third legion locking in for the task at hand. Half of the remaining contingent of the 16th Cohort taking care to escort the unconscious Emperor and his small contingent of custodes to the exit, while I lead the remaining half up at the front clearing any of the rebel remains.

829.M30 - Proxima - Orbit - III Legion Fleet
(Rylanor POV)​

"It's too quiet Abdemon, the compliance should not take this long, I request to command a contingent of the Auxila and our brothers to the planet to confirm the safety of the 16th Cohort." I express my doubts to the Legion Commander while monitoring the HUD displaying the world in front of the legion command. The last report from the 16th Cohort having been given more than several hours ago, a small sense of foreboding building inside me, from decades of battle.

"No, we can not risk losing more Astartes recklessly if something did happen to the 16th Cohort, let alone on a planet that has already expressed intentions of surrender, your request is denied again Rylanor." His words give rise to a pit in my stomach, while I incline my head to the Legion Commander in respect before turning my head towards the holo-map of the planet, my hands clenching tighter.

Before getting immediately floored by his next words.

"Under normal circumstances, but the emperor happens to be on the planet right now."

"Which is why I am deploying the full strength of the legion on Proxima, and will take personal responsibility should this prove to be an over reaction on our part Rylanor. Now go assemble the Auxila and legion we make planetfall within the hour. Rylanor, I'm sure your protégé is fine, you trained Kaon yourself, you can only mother him for so long, he'd be in hysterics to learn you've been staring at the holo-map since he left. "

My head turns faster then I would care to admit at the Legion Commanders words, only to meet the shit eating grin of Abdemon. Realizing he always intended to send a force to investigate Proxima makes a small part of me annoyed at myself for allowing him to goad a reaction out him.

"Yes Legion Commander." but a greater part of myself cannot help being relieved at the orders, despite the inevitable jokes that would be sent my way from the rest of the legion once the rest of the legion command spread my reaction.

At worst I will likely have an urge to die and be interned in a Dreadnought from the shame.

In a way I suppose I deserve it all thing considered, my hand rubbing the Roma engraved on my armor while recalling the day I met Kaon. My surroundings blurring even as I help organize the landfall to Proxima.

A hundred years ago, Europa's nobles had been asked to give their sons to the emperor, volunteers they'd been told.

But the truth was, they were prisoners, fodder, and sacrifices to be used and fight in the Emperor's wars as his Astartes.

At least the ones that survived, though the dead were the small few.

Kaon was among those who would survive, a child from a lesser noble house, a strange boy who seemed to know more then he let on, and was among the rare few noble children to not cry when they were taken from Europa under the careful watch of the third legion, myself included.

If it had just been that, there would have not been anything of note.

But Kaon, knew who I was, could call me out by name.

Even though I have never met him before my entire life and something in the way he spoke endeared himself to me.

Talking about a distant past, of events long past, and more stories of Terra before the dark age.

And other more unbelievable stories, that I can't seem to remember.......

Eventually when Kaon underwent the complete surgery those memories vanished from his mind

All except our meeting, and from there he became something of an.....apprentice to me

Striving to show him the ideals and virtues of the legion to the best of my abilities, teaching him constantly of our ways of war before his first battle.

Decades of war seemed to pass by after that, I watched with pride as Kaon improved and grew, before finally becoming a captain of the third legion first company, leading the Legion Commander's Honor guard with pride and duty.

Exemplifying the best of everything the third legion stood for, the pursuit to be better then before, to uphold the virtues of what it meant to be human, and pursue glory not for some sense of vanity, but to stand as an example to our cousins in the other legions of what it truly meant to be an Astartes.

With the countless hours of training he would put himself through, expecting those of the company to hold themselves to the same standard, and constantly improving themselves.

Even earning praise from Horus, and receiving his eye during the Battle of Luna matching the ferocity of the now Luna Wolves and even earning an honor brother in first captain Abaddon when they fought side by side.

"We are the highest and they are the lowest, that's exactly why we need to help them rise up because doing anything less, simply standing by and letting them crawl through the dirt aimlessly when they can be more, would spit on the very soul of our legion. I know our primarch would agree if he were to be found and give him a worthy legion to lead."

I remember those words fondly, when a brother once asked Kaon why he went out of his way to protect the mortal Auxilla and help the pacified humans of conquered worlds. Needless to say, the men who followed him began following his example afterwards, an almost cult like personality in the first company, his popularity almost as high as a legion commander.

When I informed the Emperor he simply smiled and said he knew before handing my a book. Telling me to hand it to Kaon when the time was right, when he was ready to learn what was in the book and to never open it under any circumstances.

"Brother Rylanor, we are ready to board the Thunderhawks and make landfall for Proxima."

I'm broken from my musings by the sound of one of my battle brothers, and then gazing at the assembled warriors all first company.

Each one assembled in perfect lines and formations

The best and brightest of the legion, tested in the crucible of war and tempered duty.

"Acknowledged, be prepared for combat, our objective is clear. Reestablish connection with the 16th Cohort and the Emperor. For the Emperor."

"For the Emperor!" The chorus greets me back at my words.

I can only hope that my worries unfounded now, though I doubt my instincts are wrong now.

 

[Tart]

(Kaon POV)

829.M30 - Proxima - Capital City Centauri - Parliament Castle
Enter every City as if you were it's first born master - F.​

In my life as Kaon, I have only ever commanded smaller battles, skirmishes in comparison to the much larger nature of this war, most always differing to my mentor or legion command on larger scale battles. My other memories only provide information, with nothing feasible to use otherwise, not to say the least of the instability of these memories. Unfortunately, other then the more impassive Custodes, Ironic since my armor makes me resemble them to an extent now. Unfortunately I am the highest ranking officer currently alive on Proxima, as such command is a duty I can not refuse, a duty the Emperor seemed confident in giving me when he revived me and gave me this new armor.

Looking down at the item in my hands, I am left narrowing my eyes at the familiar design style of the Vortex Weapon used to injure the Emperor, a part of my mind remembering a battle hundreds of years ago when I saw weapons of a similar make during the very early days of the Crusade, but I quickly stow the weapon away focusing on my brothers, and giving orders, putting my thoughts away for later.

"Spread out into squads of 20 behind me, follow the orders of the most senior in your groups if my commands are otherwise unavailable, I'll be taking the vanguard and drawing as much attention away from you all once we reach the surface." I order the group of marines around me looking around while keeping tally of our numbers, fighting strength and injured.

"Half of you will take up the rear behind me while the other half will focus on escorting the Emperor and his Custodes to a suitable location to escape, the most injured will escape with this group. We bleed them dry brothers, no heroics or reckless sacrifices, for the Emperor."

The following affirmatives from my various brothers on the Vox channel relieves me, our group of around 200 odd marines making our way from the crucible of the Procession Hall upwards towards the surface, outside the Parliament Castle, and into the capital of Proxima itself. The once pristine white marble of the castle scorched and various amounts of differing gunfire flying around, the remains of the Solar Auxilla and our brothers stationed outside the Castle fighting off numerous rebel forces not unlike our situation earlier. My fury rises at seeing the fallen bodies of my brothers and Auxilla alike, human potential wasted in a place like this, of the lives and aspiration of the Auxilla who followed and believed in our legion falling to the despicable actions of these rebels.

The rebels themselves lining the hundred meter tall walls surrounding the Castle and the outer perimeter of the Castle with various artillery emplacements set up beforehand, leaving little cover at all for the Auxilla and Space Marines that stay outside. With the only availble option being the tanks and other vehicles escorts the Third brought with us when we came to sign the 'surrender' of Proxima, a force brought more for the show of Imperial compliance then for the purpose of breaking through an enemy ambush, naturally most of the vehicles are already fubar by the time we arrive from the hall.

"Form up around them, prioritize the injured and the mortals. Direct as much fire towards the castle gate, I'll charge them, do no worry about hitting me and just focus on the enemy!" I order swiftly quickly sprinting in my power armor and jumping over a downed tank catching the the nearby friendly forces by surprise.

"Lieutenant Marus, rally the Mortal and our brothers into shield wall with our remaining armor! Divert some of our brothers to keep the Emperor at the rear and protected at all times until the perimeter is clear!"

Marus swiftly follows my orders, a Lieutenant of the third company of the legion, Marus was a stoic man with a knack for battle plans that bordered on obsession, but kept grounded by his pragmatism. It reflected in the halls below, when he took command of the remaining marines to pull a counter offensive after the vortex weapon killed most of our command staff on Proxima, and in another time Marus would help the emperor escape at the cost of the 16th Cohort in its entirety.

But those memories would not be reflected in this life, not if I can do anything about it.

Rapidly under Marus's command, the warriors of the the Third Legion moved into formation behind me, no doubts on my durability in my orders after seeing the spectacle with their own eyes in the Procession Halls, and immediately shooting a storm of Boltor fire at the rebel forces. Boltor shots and various Las and Plasma rounds breaking through and turning the un-armored rebels into a fine red mist or molten slag with each hit. The more fortunately armored rebels who survive, finding themselves being broken against a reinvigorated forces of the Imperium's finest soldiers, it's Auxilla and the Astartes. While the unconscious Emperor is kept back in the Parliment Castle, carefuly guarded by the few Custodes around him and the best warriors the 16th Cohort can spare at the moment.

Squads of marines supporting the Solar Auxilla, and providing more opportunity for a counter offensive on the wall and outer perimeter of the castle.

From the very beginning, the Proximan rebels bet everything on a swift assassination of the Emperor with the Vortex weapon, and if not that? On the hope that they would be able to break the Emperor's finest warriors, the strongest armies of humanity, but even at our weakest.....

A Space Marine is still a Space Marine.

The seemingly far distance from the Castle to the wall began to close rapidly, fire from enemy and ally alike bouncing harmlessly off my Aquilla Armor, each footfall from my power armor leaving a heavy imprint on the marble ground towards the large gates, the shots from the rebel artillery either dodged or parried by my power sword. Raising my arm in front of my helmet, I use my body as a makeshift battering ram, tearing through a heavier las based emplacement, the rebel crew flying off to either side in a broken heaps of broken bones and tenderized meat.

Despite the Aquilla Armor's durability, it was not invincible, other then the glowing gold Auramite's pristine look, the purple Ceramite had already began cracking or breaking in non vital areas from the heavy fire directed at me by the emplacements, the damage stacking up against my armor.

It didn't matter at this point however, because now I was in my preferred range of combat, melee. Surrounded by the rebel forces, a multitude of weapons trained on me while I focused all my senses on combat and survival.

It's moments like this that let me think, calm my mind, while letting adrenaline take over, focusing only on breaking the rebel forces at the gate and unlike before in the halls, there were no tech abominations accompanying this force, only mortals. The first blow from my left fist caved in the chest of a rebel, sending him hurtling like a projectile through a multitude of bodies like a projectile. My power sword delivering a follow up swing cleaving through another group of rebels, each flurry of my sword cutting swathes of mortals.

Or even more simply, running through them, breaking flesh and bone upon my armor while turning my mortal foes to fine paste or bloody mist. The rebels unable to bring their full force to arms, too clustered, too sloppy in their formations, and unprepared to deal with a single devastating foe, nor the counter attack from the remaining forces of the 16th Cohort and Auxilla.

Not to say the weren't fighting back, but the forces they had prepared were insufficient in holding back the remaining forces of the Imperium, their forces falling to precise fire from Astartes and Auxilla alike, the armored vehicles such as the Land Raiders able to bring it's arms to bear more effectively with the support of more space marines fighting alongside them.

Each coordinated strike opening more gaps in the enemies lines, the 16th cohort able to bring it's full force down upon the rebels with many small squads of space marines entering melee range and beginning to scale and take the walls while accompanied by Auxilla support teams. Exposing rebel leadership to attack through a coordinated formation of attacks, the perfect blend of super human and human cohesion, one of our legions specialty.

A weakness I can exploit easily, grabbing a nearby rebel's head and crushing it easily like a grape, the result breaking the moral of the surrounding enemies around me, many turning to fell.

None can be allowed to escape, pulling the Emperor's Boltor free from my hip, I mow down the fleeing rebels in a hail of furious Boltor fire, their forms turning into bloody burning mists or meaty paste on the ground. In a mere hour the battle is over, the entirety of the enemy force at the gate and courtyard of the Parliment Castle is reduces to bloody pools on the ground. Easy pickings under the combined attack of the Astartes and Solar Auxilla.

"Marus report, what are our losses?" I ask on the Vox channel while assessing the ground battle at the foot of the gate, noting no other dead aside from those who fell before the rest of the 16th could regroup.

"Imperial forces have only suffered damage from the intial ambush, the 16th Cohort is still at half strength at around 300 Marines, the Auxilla's effectiveness has been reduced by half but they can still fight according to their commanding officer, enemy casualties are absolute, and we have taken control of the walls." Marus responded. "Our armored vehicles have had their combat effectiveness reduced by seventy percent, only some of the Land Raiders remain functional as most of the enemy fire was concentrated on our armored vehicles captain, and Vox communication with the legion remains jammed."

Good, not great, but this was workable so far. The hardest part that was left, was to fight our way out of the capital with the Emperor in tow and regroup with the rest of the legion to mount a siege against Proxima.

"Understood, load the injured onto the remaining and functional Land Raiders, whether that be Auxilla or Astartes, and ensure our best fighters escort the Land Raider we escort the Emperor into. The fight ahead will be a battle to remember Marus, make sure the Auxilla are prepared." I begin to order. "We have to warn the legion when we can get a clear Vox through to them, lest they suffer from the same betrayal by the Proximans."

Marus is swift to follow my orders, leaving me time to gather some suspicions that had been brewing through my mind since leaving the Procession Hall. Pulling the Vortex weapon out, I examine it, trying to piece together where I saw the design before as memories from another life begin putting the puzzles together with this life.

The Tech Abominations, the Vortex Weapon, the 16th Cohort, the Third Legion, Proxima, the suddenness of the Proximan's ambush and how they acquired all these things. How did these connect? My thoughts leaving me unaware of the quiet commotion from my brothers as they start gathering at the walls, my thoughts going deeper.

And in my mind something pulls from my memories, the oldest ones I have from another life, another Terra....no Earth.

The Blight of the Third Legion, the compromised gene vaults on Terra, Trazyn the Infinite, and......the Luna Rebels back on Terra. Suddenly the dots started connecting, all too well and started making sense. The vortex weapon, the emplacements around me and the abominations from the Hall, are of Luna design.

The Luna Rebel's instigated the Proximan Betrayal supplying them these abominations or the method to make them with their advanced gene sciences, granting them weapons, and information on who would be there. Weakening the 16th Cohort to a degree where it's combat effectiveness was neutered. All in a greater plot to leave the gene vault on Terra exposed without substantial guard, a duty usually undertaken by the Mechanicus and Cohorts from each legion until their individual Primarchs were found. Leaving them easy access to spread the Blight across half of the Third Legion's gene stock, and effectively destroying a major part of the Imperium's army.

And Trayzyn, would further doom out Legion, the universe playing a sick joke, as the Necron would be the one responsible for the disappearance of the other half, using 10 millennia later in a deal with Apothecary Fabius. My fist clenches at the thought the hilt of my Power Sword groaning, and without a doubt there would be a look of pure rage on my face if my helmet was off at this moment.

No, I would not allow this to happen, even if it costs me my life, I will not allow my Legion, my brothers, my Primarch to fall. The Third Legion will rise above the Chaos, like it always has, we will walk a different destiny in this life, gods be damned.

"Captain Kaon, it looks like we will not need to contact the Legion." Marus says over the Vox, with a subtle hint of awe. "By the Throne......"

"Marus what's going on? Marus? Answer!" Passing through the crowd of Astartes and Auxllia, I am able to slowly scale the walls of the Castle, arriving beside and awestruck Marus.

"Marus! By the Throne, give me one good reason not beat you within an inch of your......life..." I start to scold Marus before shutting down turning to the burning Capital City of Proxima, and seeing a warzone.

Because it's a rare sight to see out full legion deployed in such numbers for one battle.

The entirety of the Third Legion's might bearing down on the planet as drop pods are still visibly falling from the sky and Thunder Hawks soar throughout the sky, armored vehicles tearing through ranks of rebels, with Auxilla and Astartes alike fighting in formation against rebel forces across the city and no doubt the planet.

The movement of the Legion fluid, going from street to street as if they were born on Proxima, each formation masterful, adapting to the actions of the enemy and breaking them in perfect ranks with little to no losses. Their movements in perfect coordination with the Auxilla mortal and super human covering each other's weaknesses.

Then my gaze shifts down and I see a familiar sight, memories playing in my head at seeing the familiar armors of brothers I'd spent hundreds of years fighting beside. Standing a few feet away from the walls of the Castle itself, are the First Company, my company. Their armor pristine, with the shattered rebels at their feet and at their head is a lone Astartes, a figure who evokes fond memories from my mind and time as an intiate to the Third Legion.

"Kaon, the next time you'll ever be allowed to lead an operation again is over my dead body! By the Throne, one task, just one damn task I leave you with, I doubt your friend Ezekyle gave his peers as much trouble as you do!" Shouted a seemingly furious Rylanor, the Roma and Thule on his armor eye catching, and I would no doubt believe he was absolutely livid. "Don't you dare move from there Kaon, you brat! Don't get me started on your armor, what in the Throne did you do this time for your armor to be in such a miserable state Kaon! When I get up there I swear I will....!"

If not for the slight relaxation in his shoulders, however small.

Suddenly, getting the Emperor off of Proxima, and saving the Legion felt a little less impossible. But I would never tell Rylanor that to his face, he'd never let me live that down for all my transhuman years, the old bastard.

 

[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.

 

[noobody77]

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[Tart]

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[Tart]

829.M30 - Proxima - Capital City Centauri - Parliament Castle

829.M30 - Proxima - Capital City Centauri - Parliament Castle

"Hope for the best, prepare for the worst."​

While what remained of the 16th Cohort waited for extraction along with the Emperor's forces, I was left alone to my own thoughts. As fractured and slowly healing as these memories were.

However the arrival of a certain Astartes had derailed anytime I would have dedicated myself to deciphering how to best use what I do know from whatever life I had lived in the past.

Why was that so? It pertained to the relationship I shared with the Astartes.

The one who recruited me shortly after the subjugation of Europa in the very early hours of the Great Crusade.

My mentor, Rylanor.

There were many ways to describe him, but one I found particular accurate was…strict.

"Reckless." A strike directed towards me broke my thoughts. A feint, followed by a decapitating strike I barely managed to parry.

"Stubborn Waste of perfectly good gene seed!" Followed by an uppercut from his left that connected with the jaw of my helmet and knocked it off. A series of precise blows following the unexpected fist to my jaw further damaged my armor.

For a variety of reasons, I stayed silent. There was no escaping this chastisement from my old mentor.

History had taught that.

Retorting or arguments with the stubborn piece of Ceramite in front of me would take far longer than any campaign I had ever been on.

Rylanor the Unyielding. Mentor. Friend. Brother.

Loyal to a fault. A great friend to have and a terrible enemy to make.

In our storied history, the two of us have had this same form of conversation many times.

Since my inception into the third legion.

During my time as an aspirant during the wars on Luna.

Fighting various Xenos races and human empires in the stars.

And now here in the Parliament castle square, in the ruins of once beautiful buildings and with many of our brothers nearby.

The familiar scene of Rylanor's lecture had begun once more, and more than likely this would not be the last time such an event occurred. At least, that's what my experience and the bruises I had were telling me at this moment.

Unbeknownst to me at that time, but this event would become something of a tradition to the third legion.

Veterans and recruits in the third legion would throw wagers into the odds of me coming out of one of Rylanor's famed lectures unharmed.

Though that remains a story for another time.

Presently. I was ducking another blow aimed towards me from Rylanor after I had recovered from his earlier fist to my jaw.

Eventually after a few new dents decorated my armor, the physical part of Rylanor's lecture ended.

Making way for the verbal lecture.

"Rallying your troops was a solid plan, saving the Auxilia was honorable and tactical. But why, on the Emperor's golden throne…did you rush headfirst into your foes Kaon?" Said Rylanor calmly, his helmet giving away no emotion. "You of all people should know by now that any strategy involving a leader of an army rushing head long into battle is foolish...Lord Horus is an exception to the rule not an example to this rule…and even then, he wouldn't even consider such a foolish tactic…I thought you grew out of our legions…habit of reckless valor Kaon."

I could see Rylanor letting out a sigh before continuing.

"It appears I need to remind you why the third legion tends to squash these tendencies, Kaon."

Followed by a kick to the front of my armor that left a foot shaped indent in my armor and had me sprawled on my back.

At this point the Aquilla that once adorned my armor had vanished. Turning my armor back into its usual shade of purple.

Whatever power the emperor bestowed in my armor likely decided this was a pummeling I likely needed no protection against.

A notion I had to agree with despite the new bruises I sported under my power armor. Rylanor had a strong point, my actions had been more gamble than anything.

"-rmore, if we all listened to that part of our geneseed we would be throwing ourselves without any care for our lives in almost every campaign we participate in Kaon. The age old terran saying about discretion is key Kaon."

With a sigh Rylanor inclines his helmet slightly at me while putting the digits of his armored hand where his brow would be.

"I would say more, but this lesson seems to be missing its point at the moment..."

I could only nod and agree with the assessment. "Forgive me Rylanor, I meant no disrespect. You are right in your observations, old friend…I was reckless and foolish in my actions. No matter the results. Or situation…I apologize."

"You don't need to apologize…Strive to be better than before Kaon, live up to all the potential I know you have…no, go beyond that potential and reach farther than you ever thought possible Kaon. Your success is your own, but your faults are mine. What matters at the end of the day is that the 16th Cohort endures, and you still live. That is more than what I had hoped to find when I arrived." Rylanor says quietly, pausing for a few moments in hesitation before speaking again. "It is good to see you unharmed Kaon."

The meaning of his words is not lost to me. "Thank you Rylanor."

"Of course that is no excuse for the poor shape I find your armor and equipment in. What am I going to do with you Kaon?" Rylanor said in a huff, clearing his throat awkwardly while his helmet turned to observe the transportation of the wounded.

"Converstion into a Dreadnought is a viable solution." I chip in before pretending I hadn't said anything at all. The slow turn of Rylanor's helmeted head more than tells of the consequences of continuing that dialogue.

For a long moment the atmosphere was silent, the sound of Thunder Hawks and other Astartes silent as Rylanor fixed me with the quietest stare possible.

"How fares the battle for Proxima Prime?" I asked, breaking the awkward silence.

For a moment it almost seemed that I was due for another long lecture at the look my mentor aimed my way. Before my mentor let out a long annoyed sigh.

"Projections say the battle for the Proximan system will take half a year. Naturally, priority will be given to extract the Emperor from Proxima as fast as possible." Said Rylanor, his posture betraying no emotion. "The Legion will need its first company captain for the planetary assaults once Proxima prime is glassed, are you prepared Kaon?"

I nodded, my hand gripping my Bolter. "Always."

"Good, and one more thing Kaon. I have something important to give you. Something you handed me a long time ago." Rylanor begins to say, before the moment is cut short by the arrival of heavy footsteps.

"Captain Kaon, Lord Rylanor. Thunderhawks are ready to depart. Orbital command projects that the battle for Proxima major should only last a few more hours now that the legion has been deployed in full force." Said Lieutenant Marus calmly, gesturing towards several of the aforementioned landing crafts carrying the wounded away from the center square. "Are you both ready to depart?"

A look was shared between me and Rylanor, before we both nodded. Whatever Rylanor needed to say would have to wait for a more opportune time in the future. In a matter of moments I and Rylanor boarded a Thunderhawk, accompanied by Marus and several dozen other Battle Brothers with various wounds.

. . .

Above Proxima Prime - Third Legion Thunderhawk​

Among the Astartes with us were some of my closest allies from the First Company. Astartes that had been fighting alongside me since my inception into the legion. Five other legionaries clad in purple and white MKII Power armor with gold trim. Each one with the First Company standard on their pauldrons trim and knee pads of their leg armor.

"Apothecaries are going to have a field day with you, Captain." Said the marine to my right, Pelleon. A gifted warrior and my second in command. "I reckon Apothecary Fabius will have another headache looking at you this time brother. From what we gathered from the reports, you were glowing with the fury of a hundred battle brothers."

I incline my head towards Pelleon, eyes narrowed. "I fail to see why this would bother the good Apothecary."

"Of course you would, captain." Interjected another marine on my left, Adrosis. The badge of the apothecary on his pauldron. The tone of his voice hinting at his exasperation and annoyance. "What with the amount of strange new ways you find yourself wounded in battle Kaon. It's a modern wonder how you haven't been interned in a dreadnought already. Though I suppose a predisposition to getting injured in unique ways is something you and lord Rylanor share. I can only be thankful you did not have one of your hearts punched out of your chest this time."

"Truthfully I would rather be researching in the Legions labs right now. Alas, what am I to do when our first company's captain finds himself in the worst battles in our legions history." Adrosis said with a higher pitch of annoyance, his helmet turning to take one look at the state of my armor before shaking his head and letting out an audible sigh. An intentional gesture on his part. "I don't think I have seen an Astartes with such a low sense of self preservation...well aside from those madmen in the Ninth…cannibals and butchers the lot of them."

A part of me trembled when I recalled the last time the Third Legion fought with the Ninth. It seemed more apt to call them World Eaters as they were right now then the angels they were to be in the possible future my memories whispered in my mind.

"You wound me, Adrosis, am I truly as reckless as you say?" I asked back while breaking my thoughts from the topic of the Ninth, looking around at my gathered brothers for support.

"Yes." Was the unified answer from the dozen or so brothers around us injured and non-injured. Rylanor and Pelleon among them.

"Hmm I'll remember this in the next training drills we run." Was my short response.

"Now let's not be hasty here brother captai-" Pelleon began to say, slight panic entering as if he just remembered me and my mentor shared certain quirks in regards to 'training'.

Truthfully there was merit to what Adrosis was saying. He had been assigned to my squad for a few decades so far. While I had a great deal of success organizing certain parts of the legion. My tenure as captain had put me in situations and battles where I could not place my own safety as a high priority. It did not help that my experience in leading an entire company was inadequate compared to my peers. Which had led me to command from less...tactical vantage points.

I suppose that was a trait I had carried over from my old life. I wasn't quite sure as my centuries as an Astartes made any prior memory seem hazy at this point. Like trying to look through foggy glass and make sense of the other side.

In fact, If not for the importance of the memories I would have likely forgotten them by now due to how my physiology worked now. Thankfully as an upside to my current status, my panic and doubt had long ceased once my biological processes had started working properly.

As thoughts such as those passed through my mind, the Thunderhawk shook slightly as it docked onto Andronius, the flagship of the third legion. A beautiful Strike Cruiser that had served the Legion well at this point. Its crew, both transhuman and mortal. Were battle hardened and experienced by this point in the crusade.

It was at this moment Rylanor approached me and clasped my armour's shoulder as we started leaving the Thunder Hawks doors. "Kaon, about the previous topic I need to tel-"

Before either of us could continue we were met with a retinue of third legion marines, led by the current Legion Master Abdemon.

"For the Apothecary Bile's sake I hope what's under the armor is more intact than your armor Captain." Greeted the Legion Master while his eyes scanned the scraps of my armor amused. "Throne knows how much hair he has lost over your…quirks."

"Et tu, Legion Master?" I reply back in mock betrayal, tilting my head slightly in respect while me and Rylanor made way for our brothers to unload the wounded. Stepping closer to Abdemon and the pair of legion honor guards on either side of him.

"I suppose the battle must be going on seeing as you are here and not at the command bridge. What is happening, Legion Master?" I asked the question that appeared in my mind when I noticed the relaxed posture of Abdemon.

"I'd like to know that myself, Kaon." Sighed the Legion Master. "One moment we are preparing for a long and grueling battle Proxima, the next we receive transmissions that the Bucephalus had entered the system along with a contingent of the Luna Wolves."

"They are?" Asked Rylanor beside me, a note of startled surprise in his voice.

My mind stilled at that, to my knowledge from both lives it should have been impossible for the Luna Wolves to arrive here. On one side of my memories, the human one. They were never supposed to be here for the Proximan Betrayal. While my Astartes side remembered clearly that the Luna Wolves theatre of war was on the opposite side of the Proxima System.

"How did-" I asked Abdemon, my helmet doing nothing to hide the startled note in my voice.

"I wish I knew Kaon, we could only make out their arrival into the system. Communication is still blocked. Though this does make our job significantly easier." Interrupted the Legion Master, anticipating my question. "We only need to fight towards the last location of the Bucephalus we received from our systems, and escort the Emperor there."

"And the rest of the system?" I asked.

"We'll make the Proximans bleed for every Imperial life lost on the planet." Abdomen said, looking at me with deathly seriousness. "The fact our legion was almost blind sided by these insurrectionists is an insult we will pay in full on our way to meet up with the Bucephalus. A notion that is thankfully shared by the command staff of the Imperial Army among us."

"Glory to the Emperor." Was my only response to Abdemon. My hand reached out to clasp his. "What is my role going to be in the coming battles?"

"Death to his foes." Abdemon replied back, gauntleted hands clasping in a firm shake. "Kaon, your role is a simple one. Recover and stay aboard the Adronius. I am keeping you here for the duration of the campaign. It's why I came here in person, you see you will b-"

My mind stopped at that, some instinctual part of myself protested those words. I couldn't afford to stay here aboard the ship while my brothers bled.

"Legion Master, I am still able. Just give me another set of weapons and armor. I can still fi-" I began to protest stepping closer to Abdemon.

Before being hit on the back of my helmet by Rylanor. "Stop your protests and let the Legion Master finish talking. I swear…some hundred years old and still panicking like an aspirant on Europa…"

"Thank you brother." Nodded Abdemon to my mentor. "As I was saying, you are being benched because you have a different task ahead of you Kaon. The Emperor left orders to exclude you from this campaign because you and the 4th cohort are being reassigned once we meet up with the Bucephalus."

I tilted my helmet slightly, while rubbing the spot where Rylanor had hit me earlier. "Where exactly am I being reassigned?"

Each cohort of the Third Legion served a different purpose. The 16th was composed mainly of newer members of the legion and were typically used during Imperial Compliance.

As for the fourth, they dealt with the escorting of priceless resources or VIPs. Members were picked from the finest Astartes and members from the Imperial Army. But to my knowledge there shouldn't have been anything important happening at the moment to reassign me away from this campaign. Let alone an entire cohort of marines.

The answer I received was a quick but no less impactful one.

"You will be in charge of escorting our gene seed from Mars to the vaults of Luna along with the fourth cohort. The ships carrying our geneseed will meet up with elements of the Fourth Cohort along the way."

I took a long moment to process the words spoken.

"What…?"

. . .

I had little to know knowledge at the time of the resulting ripples that would occur due to the orders from the Emperor. Nor of the special individuals I would meet in the near future.

And the constant headache one of these individuals would give me constantly throughout the Crusade.

. . .

(?????'s POV)

The galaxy was a beautiful place. So much history, so much knowledge, so many different cultures springing up in the galaxies long existence and since he last explored the stars.

A shame then, that so often such history was trampled under foot. Cultures erased, knowledge lost, and these beautiful moments lost to time forever. Truly, the galaxy must weep tears of joy then thanks to his thankless mission.

For untold amounts of time he has kept the history of the galaxy safe in his collection.

While his other peers and colleagues may jeer and mock his noble mission, he will endure.

Yes for the sake of history, he would continue his work. For no other in his circle could truly understand the value of such a thing. How could they when they continued to refuse his kind efforts of preserving their important history.

Not that what his colleagues had to say was of any importance today.

For today once more, he. The Noble Custodian of History, would save another piece of it!

Hopefully this time, he would have a more...receptive audience.

Afterall History required two parties, the historian...and their audience. Without that, it would simply be talking with oneself.

And it grew quite irritating trying to teach his audience about history when they kept screaming.

Well he had plenty of time. Afterall it wasn't as if anything would go wrong in the future.

Ah, the beauty of time.

Truly the future was looking bright.

. . .

(???????'s POV)

He overlooked the city complex. Each and every part of it was a work of art. From the now happy people running about, to the works of art and music that reached from the lowest mines to the highest spire. His eyes and mind able to process everything within seconds of seeing it.

And every sight fulfilled him. Gave him hope that his efforts weren't for naught.

It was all proof of what could be done when humanity wasn't pushing itself down. When humanity looked past it's innate cruelty and strived for something better.

When they had someone like him to help lift them up, and guide them to what they truly could be. Something beautiful, something proud, something human, something perfect.

Even if he knew he didn't truly belong to them, it mattered not.

He made it his mission to fight for them. For a world where everyone could go as high and as far as they liked. Because they believed in him when they didn't need to.

Took him in when all logic pointed otherwise.

Raised him up high as one of their own. Named him, and gave him purpose from the beauty of their struggle. He was called the Illuminator in their tongue.

A purpose and name he spent everyday trying to live up to.

He would be a light to guide them.

Because they dared to love him, and he would return that love a hundred, nay a thousand times back.

Because love would never be conquered.

He was and always will be their illuminator.

A resolve he carried within himself like a burning flame as he gazed at his people and hoped for an even brighter tomorrow.

Truly nothing could go wrong in the future.