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Age of the Imperium


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I had a story on here a long time go, a fan fiction that progressed the story line. Its long gone but my appetite for such a story has not gone. With GW slowly advancing things it had made me want to write again and add my head cannon to it. I try to keep up with BL books as best I can but I cant read everything as quick as they release them. This might not be to every ones taste and I appreciate that, helpful critiques are welcomed. Here is the first chapter, I hope you enjoy.



Chapter 1


His hand moved quickly across the screens, one continuous swiping motion as he read report after report. Guilliman had only been back on Macragge for several hours but he knew that time was of the essence and there was much work to do. Leaving Dante in charge of Imperium Nihilus had temporarily lifted a weight from him, he was no fool though and knew that in a matter of years he would need to launch a crusade there. The great rift still split the Imperium in twain and many worlds had been lost, however the war front was slowly stabilizing. He could not allow Chaos to maintain its claws in the sector; soon he would launch a hammer blow. The read data slates piled up as he dealt with hundreds of reports, he wanted to know everything from shipping manifests to production quotas.

Ultramar had been left in the hands of the Tetrarch council and other governing bodies but now he would add his super human talents to the problems. The Primarch sighed as he continued to read, dozens of Governors were requesting lower tithes or exemptions as work forces struggled. Hundreds of Vigili operatives were en route to trouble spots, now more than ever their presence needed. A chapter of Space Marines had also been put on stand by. Guilliman hated their need but understood it; Alpharius or Konrad he thought would mock him for it. As the thought crossed his mind anger rose through him, his selfish brothers and their accursed egos had caused all this. Stretching his hands he pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind, there was no use going over old ground he mused. Here and now was what was important. Allowing his mind to wander for a moment he did miss his loyal brothers, he would trade a hundreds of systems for even one of them to return, now more than ever their counsel was needed.


Reluctantly Guilliman applied his signature to newly drawn up legislation, the work guilds on Labro Prime had voted to allow those as young as 12 to work in the manufactorums and in other industries. In one stroke of his stylus a work force of billions had been created. Granted those aged 12-18 were only part time and numerous other benefits but still it helped. As quickly as warp travelled allowed these changes would be implemented across Ultramar; Guilliman knew of worlds in the wider Imperium that cared not for workers ages or rights, these measures were temporary he assured himself. Wherever his Indomitus crusade had gone it had liberated and improved worlds. Now the populace had a dream to believe in once again, no longer oppressed or down trodden. Slowly but surely the example of Ultramar was being shared outside of its borders. As if he was still doubting his decision he told himself that the Chapters of Astartes selected aspirants of that age, if he allowed that then what harm was a little work. It was done. The order was signed and would be sent immediately.


The room was was bustling with hundreds of adepts from several departmento's and rank, the Primarch made sure to acknowledge them all. Hundreds of screens and cogitators filled the room and data slates piled high on each desk. Twenty Primaris stood statue still watching over everything, another twenty patrolled the corridors, no chances were taken any more. Security across the whole 500 worlds had been ramped up and each world had specialist Vigili teams set up to protect -and watch- their rulers. Forge worlds had proven a headache, as Guilliman could not afford to risk their support and wrath if found to be infiltrating them, instead he increased mining rights and made sure to afford them seats on his council.

His internal vox chimed, Chief Librarian Tigurius was requesting a private channel. With a thought he opened the communications.


“My liege, I have received Grand Master Ezekiel of the Dark Angels. They are on their way to Macragge and request an audience my Lord. The reason he says is too important to discuss any other way. I will add the astropathic message was heavily encrypted and burnt out 6 astropaths”.


The message perplexed Guilliman and made him feel ill at ease. He had only met the dark Angels a few times and heard many grumblings about them. It seemed the 'Unforgiven' were not well liked the in Imperium, politics aside however and their record was exemplary. Just as when his brother the Lion had led them, the Dark Angels were a secretive and proud bunch. For all his faults Johnson was a Primarch almost without equal, despite their differences and clashes, the sight of the Lion leading his sons would be much welcomed.


“When can we expect their arrival” Guillimans attention to his work never wavered as he replied.


“Their fleet already arrives in orbit of Eucladus my Lord. The warp calms at their approach and has allowed them great speed. Our forces have moved to escort them”


Roboute could imagine how the Dark Angels chafed at being escorted and didn't envy those having to deal with them. Eucladus is a star fort that anchors the Masali system and serves as a supply point for fleets in the local area. It guarded the shipping lanes of north western Ultramar and adjacent systems, it was one of a number of star forts in Ultramar. Two centuries ago their had been six star forts, now he had ten under his command and four more were nearing completion. The star fort was backed up by a portion of the Ultramar Defence Fleet and a large orbital defence network, the systems agri worlds vital for the wider empire.


“That does not bode well at all” the Primarch gave words to both their thoughts. He was not a spiritual person at all and gave much stock in logic and reason but the omens did not bode well.



The Lion paced around the tactical map hands clasped around his back, the events of the last few days still playing on his mind. Azrael and other officers of his chapter sat around a large onyx table. The concept of the chapter was still new to him and his brothers codex reforms did not sit well with him. He had woken in a dark chamber a voice whispering to him that it was time again to serve, the Watchers came to him, those creatures who forever were in the shadows of his life had been awaiting him. The events of the millennia he had been absent for had been explained by Ezekiel as best he could, the Watchers had also filled him in with certain information.

Had it really been 10,000 years? That amount of time had seen absurd to him, yet he had no reason to doubt his sons tales. Who or what had awoken him he could not say but he wished it had been sooner, he could have prevented the stagnation of his fathers realm. Rage had flowed through him as he learned the state of the Imperium, he felt useless and internally screamed at it all. Ezekiel and the rest had shrunk away at that moment as if assaulted by their Primarchs anger, even the Watchers had disappeared.

Wearing robes of the old legion colour he circled the room “My brother is now Lord Commander” he raised his eyebrows. This had irked the Lion the most.


Azrael met his Primarchs gaze “Yes Lord”.


“My other brothers, what of them” the Lion had stopped his pacing and was now studying the galactic map. He could sense the hesitancy in the reply, he felt the sorrow even before the words came out.


“Only you and Lord Guilliman remain, there is no trace of the others”


The Lion nodded as more memories flooded his brain, the Scouring had been just as brutal as the Heresy, he was forming the time lines in his head. Every answer led to more questions, although very shortly he would meet with his brother and he relished the prospect of that. His return was being kept closely guarded for now, the Watchers advising him to keep a low profile and avoid the attention of Chaos. It was better that the Great Enemy to his return for as long as possible, the shadows was for the Raven he had first remarked, even he though had stalked his prey from afar in the early days on Caliban. All that mattered was survival now, there was time enough to take the fight to them.

By circumstance the Dark Angels had been fighting a campaign alongside 3 of their brother chapters and each were as joyous to see their father returned. Their unique organisation had been explained to their Primarch, the Unforgiven were a legion in all but name. After he had been to Ultramar the Lion would muster the rest of his forces and would renew the Emperors crusade. He would make an Oath of Moment to the Emperor himself, no longer would the shame of the fallen stain them; he would hunt down every traitor world by world alone if he must. The First had returned and the galaxy would tremble at their coming. As the warning klaxons signalled they were entering real space sounded, the Lion was formulating his first campaign. Signalling for the council to make ready, he left the chambers.



The journey had only taken 3 days, the tides of the warp having been kind to Guillimans fleet. Macragges Honor was by far the largest vessel, the Primarch was more concerned about meeting the Dark Angels as quickly as possible than awing them. Also the Rock was one of the most formidable star forts in the entire galaxy second only to the Phalanx. The Dark Angels fleet was very large and bolstered by no less than 3 chapters, already Guilliman felt a sense of dread, he quickly sent a vox message to his command staff. Guilliman had the Storm Knights chapter come along with him, trying to spend equal amounts of time with his chapters as he could.


“Lord Azrael we hope your journey was trouble free. What news do you bring beyond the rift?”


The Rock was huge and dwarfed every vessel in the system, even after seeing it before it was still highly impressive. Co-ordinates for the landing bays had been sent across secured channels and several thunderhawks set off to ferry the primarch and his party.


“The Imperium endures, His light shines eternal. I bring good tidings to you Lord Primarch”


The vox link cut off as atmospheric interference played across the systems, the gunships were momentarily blinded as crossed through void shields. Dark Angel gunships rose up and escorted their cousins down, it was an aerial honour guard and display of power. No one landed upon Caliban without their consent. A company black clad astartes formed up along the landing spot, Azrael and several others stood amongst them in their green armour. One figure however stood out amongst them. Guilliman rubbed his eyes and did a double take. Could it be he thought? Yes, yes it was his brother! The Lion had awoken!





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The next installment, I hope you enjoy.


Chapter 2




As soon as the access ramps hit the soil Guilliman was moving towards his brother, ignoring any chance it could be a trap. Quickly the company of Storm Knights formed up around their Primarch, his eagerness throwing them off. Each wore a suit of mark 3 power armour painted in crimson and white; this was the 5th company, they specialised in ship to ship combat. They had a fierce reputation in the sector. Stood waiting to receive them were warriors of the Consecrators in their ancient mark 6 “Corvus” pattern armour, then stood amongst his command staff was the Lion himself. His armour was as black as night and filled with heraldry not seen in millennia. He bore no weapons and stood hands clasped behind his back. No hint of emotion betrayed his inner thoughts as he stared on.


“Brother! Can it be? You have returned. I cannot believe it!” Guilliman held out his arms to embrace the Lion. The two brothers clasped arms and shared quick words of greetings. The Lion was never one for showing emotions.


The urge to kneel was felt through every Storm Knight, the sight of the Lion having the same effect as their own Primarch. The Consecrators and Dark Angels in contrast stood still. Where Guilliman was statesman like the Lion would be described as regal and his very presence commanded people in to action. It was said those of the Unforgiven were of a dour nature, unflinching in their duties, stoic and vengeful. Captain Haltz could not read any of their expressions and it unnerved him, the vox chatter was filled with nervous chatter. Slowly the kneeling astartes got back to their feet.


“It is good to see you again” the Lion replied his gaze never leaving Guilliman. “There is much to discuss, come I know time is not on our side”. The Lion gestured for his brother to follow as he strode towards the Tower of Angels. The ancient structure was one of several that had survived Calibans destruction, it had served as a legionary facility pre-heresey. After Johnson had disappeared it had remained locked and its secrets lost. Placing his large palm on the biometric scanner the Lion opened the door, long unused pistons slowly struggled against its adamantium mass. Darkness lay waiting inside and a musky breeze wafted past them. At an unseen signal lights flickered on, casting long shadows on the plain ferrocrete walls. The corridor went on before splitting to a T-junction but there was a door halfway along on the left. A low thrum could be felt as a long dormant power reactor came to life as more of the Tower came to life. Johnson went through the door his brother following.


It was a small armoury, a fall back point to hold up any invaders. Guilliman wondered what hidden defences lay in wait for any attacker further up the corridor. A large Aquila had been carved in to the surface of one wall and the rest were taken up by various lockers or screens. The Dark Angels were never known for any flamboyancy or unnecessary ornamentations.


“You were never known for your hospitality brother but even for you this is rude” smiled Roboute, the feeling of ill ease was beginning to creep over him and he wondered if he would need to draw his blade. Practical and theoretical thoughts raced through his brain, he had no desire to fight the Lion but he began to wonder at his brothers ill humours. Guilliman was drawing up plans to effect a fighting retreat from the Rocks surface. The thought was a grim one and the chances of survival was low, pushing it to the back of his mind he sat down awkwardly on an arming bench.


“There will be no need to draw weapons brother” the Lion broke the deepening silence, “Unless you give me a reason to”.


“Then why does your face show nothing but annoyance?” Guilliman replied.


“There are matters we need to discuss and away from our sons, any disagreements need to be sorted in private”. Anger was creeping in to the Lions voice.


“Lord Commander of the Imperium?” the Lion snorted, “Who promoted you? What right do you have to bear such a title? Our father remains wounded on Terra and here you are collecting ranks and worlds? What stops me declaring you usurper and traitor? No better than our thrice damned brother Horus?”.


Guilliman remained calm in the face of his brothers wrath, it was understandable, the Lion had always been devoutly loyal to the Emperor; any perceived challenge to their fathers rule he would meet with force. Had his brother returned to only incite a civil war? He was struck by deja vu as the incidents and arguments of the Imperium Secundus entered his mind. There was little point going over old grounds. He steeled himself for his next action; quicker than anticipated he stood up and drew his sword; the blade of the Emperor.


“This brother! By the authority of the Emperor himself. I travelled to Terra itself and the Adeptus Custodes granted me an audience with Him. I understand your grievances but they are unfounded. My loyalties are as true as yours. You doubt me even now?” Guillimans gaze did not falter, he lowered the blade and started to pace.


“You think I wanted this burden” he spat, “I was brought back from death to this Imperium of decay. All we had built and fought for was in ruins, as I lay dying from my fight with Fulgrim I cried out Johnson, I cried out in great despair. The unflappable Roboute Guilliman gave in to emotion. I knew there was no one to take up the task of rebuilding it all. I saw the fires behind my brothers eye all die in the aftermath, not one of you were willing to try rebuild what was lost.

In desperation I prayed to our father and that fell on deaf ears. Then I was brought back and my nightmares were a reality!”


Guilliman looked sad now and the lion could see the pain etched across his face. He continued talking.


“I have only done what I thought necessary brother, what would you do in my position? I have fought against two of our monster brothers. Both Mortarion and Magnus have sought to kill me and a dozen other foes. I have fought for two centuries in His name, I led my forces across the galaxy fighting wherever I could. I have seen the state of everything. I fight against armies our enemies and I fight against our system, the inefficient and corruption runs deep brother”.


The Lion met his brothers gaze and in that moment he understood. In his dreamless slumber the Watchers had whispered to him the goings on of the galaxy and the state of mankind. He relaxed his body language and put a hand on his brothers shoulder.


“You are not alone now and together we will share this task, but before anything else tell me of father” he withdrew his hand from his brother and began to pace again.


Guilliman hesitated before he replied “I do not know what to tell”.


The Lion gave him a quizzical look “You had an audience did you not?”


“Yes I did but I did not physically see him, the Custodes blindfolded me before I was allowed in to the throne room. He spoke to me via the warp however and communicated psychically. He has changed much” Guilliman looked once again full of sorrow as he spoke about the Emperor.


“What do you mean Roboute” the Lion asked.


“The Emperor is no longer the same, he has fought a war against Chaos for 10,000 and it has changed him. When we spoke all I felt was pain and anger brother”.


The Lion looked hurt, “ I will go to Terra at once, I will meet him myself”.

Edited by calgar101
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Chapter 2 is well done. I hope to bear witness to the Lion's audience with the Emperor.



The tow brothers clasped arms and shared quick words of greetings.

I think you meant, "The TWO brothers clasped arms and shared quick words of greetings," (emphasis mine).

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Thank you Tarvek, I am trying to set the scenes but without getting bogged down in too much detail. I want to set the balls in motion quite early but I am keen to also avoid bolter porn. I am appreciate every ones comments and interest. Here is chapter 3.



Chapter 3



The Primarchs had talked for under an hour before parting ways, Guilliman would return to Macragge start to plan for several new offensives. Johnson would make his way to Terra with his current forces, along the way he would stop off in key systems and lend support where it was needed. The Dark Angels and successors fleets were considerably powerful, the addition of the Rock made it even more so formidable. Guilliman had appointed his brother Praetorian, Shield of the Imperium, the Lion would recognise his brothers rank as he understood the need for unity in these dark times. The pair would mostly be fighting on different fronts anyway so the clash of authority would not be an issue. Guilliman assured his brother he welcomed the day when he could lay down the role of Lord Commander. Small and fast messenger ships would go ahead of the Lion to prepare for his arrival, Terra was in no mood for more surprise Primarch visits.



“What now my Lord” Azrael asked.


The Lion smiled “As Shield of the Imperium my first duty is to head for Terra, I will reaffirm my Oath to the Emperor and have the stain of Caliban washed from us”.


“And our orders my Lord”?


“I will take the Rock and a small force with me, the rest will head to several systems to tip the balance of their battles in our favour. Once those wars are won we will rendezvous in the Caliban system with the rest of my chapters. From there as a legion we will go cleanse the traitors from Imperial space, we will take to the fight to them, no more will we be reactive. Send the masters of Recruits to me” Johnson rattled off several more orders and officers sped off to enact them.




Azrael was still coming to terms with how how fast and efficient a Primarchs mind was, already the plans for the upcoming campaigns had been drawn up. It was a shame he would not fight alongside his liege lord just yet but there would be battles to come. He would be leading the bulk of the Dark Angels to Talaxus cluster, the local P.D.F regiments were struggling to contain uprisings and nearly 30 planets were affected. Intelligence suggested a traitor war band had infiltrated all levels of the Talaxus clusters governments and had sparked the fire of rebellion. The cluster underpinned countless other systems, its agri worlds were vital for feeding billions of lives and its harsh mines fed two forge worlds. Manufacturing on another eight industrial worlds had stopped as workers downed tools and took up arms. Before other systems were impacted by the mass uprisings Azrael would smash it apart.


The Lion had picked out nearly a dozen war zones that Imperial forces had become stuck in, their importance was not the same as Armageddon or other such systems, victories in those however would free up a large bulk of forces for else where. Victories were sorely needed to inspire the Imperial war machine and reinvigorate the populace. Hopefully momentum would start to build and form in to a new crusade. More than ever the worlds citizenry needed to be shown they had not been abandoned and that each world would be protected. He was looking forwards to the upcoming battles, he had never been one to enjoy war but Azrael felt a new purpose and energy about him in the company of his Lord.




Grand Master Nakir rested his hand on the ships command throne, the Reliquaria was an ancient vessel having served the Consecrators for 3 millennia. The ships bridge was a hive of activity as the fleet made ready to depart, Nakir was to lead a small fleet to a host of worlds to gather recruits for the legions rebuilding. Thousands of worlds were under the protection of the Unforgiven and countless debts were owed to them. Each one would be called in now, Nakir would gather every aspirant he could, every piece of war gear that would be needed. His thoughts honed in on the task ahead, he watched as other ships slowly formed up around his flagship. Two other battle barges would join them as well as a number of strike cruisers and other escorts. A small number of transport vessels would be attached to his fleet also, their large holds would be converted to carrying human cargo.


Aboard the Reliquaria the most vital of their cargo would be safe guarded, the precious gene-seed of the Dark Angels was being stored in cryogenic vaults. Razaek had fussed over it greatly as it had been carefully loaded, the chief Apothecary and several of his colleagues had spent hours harvesting and preparing as much gene seed as possible. Having access to the source of their chapters life blood as also proved to be a great boon, Johnson was a walking gene seed factory and he had shown great patience with the medical procedures as they extracted all they could. His thoughts returned to the journey ahead, Nakir opened a link to his entire fleet.


“Proceed to jump point Alpha XV12, we have clearance from the Eucladus for a warp jump. Upon arrival immediately make for Bregundia. Safe journey. The Lion expects”.


Nakir was not one for long speeches, he would leave that for the chaplains, all knew their task and that was enough. Warp travel was always a perilous endeavour and Nakir never enjoyed the feeling of it, he prayed his ships would arrive all together and on time. His crew had made thousands of jumps between them and despite their mortality he placed a huge amount of trust in them. He turned his gaze to the Watcher that stood to his left, the hooded creature like many of its kind had attached themselves to the legions command staff.

Not even the Lion knew their origins and none could classify their species. Ezekiel and the other librarians had commented that they bore a strong psychic signature but that was all that was known about them. Famously Azrael had been accompanied by one for centuries but even he could not say anything about them. He had never communicated with the Watcher at all. Despite the misgivings of having a Xenos follower Nakir could not deny he and others felt a strange calm in their presence. A sudden lurch broke him out of his thoughts, warning bells sounded across the bridge and a deep tension settled over everyone. Tempestuous energies roiled across the ships surface as the warp reached out and embraced the flagship, gellar fields strained against the malign force as daemons sought to find any weaknesses. Nakir looked at the screen to his right, runes highlighted the location of each ship but gave no indication of how else they fared. A curse left his lips as he saw one rune flicker from green to red.

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Cheers guys. yeah I don't buy in to the whole emo Lion. Would he be happy how the Imperium would be? No. How he went about improving the Imperiums situation might be less diplomatic than Guillimans but he would not sit around brooding about better times. Here is chapter 4 and is some more building, I'm not sure it works 100% but I'm reasonably happy. It's about time I introduced some baddies I think mind.



Chapter 4


Chapter 4




Armatura had been abandoned long ago, even before the fires of the heresy had been extinguished its importance had drastically dropped. What had once been the beating heart of Ultramar's military might was now less than a shadow. A garrison of less than five thousand now occupied a small cluster of hab buildings, an additional thousand workers made up the rest of the population, these were mainly agri workers, training fields long ago swapped for farm fields. Over the course of several millennia the Mechanicus had scoured the planet and its system of everything they could. Reclamation fleets had worked relentlessly to salvage all materials they could. For that Guilliman had been thankful, they had provided him with a blank canvas; he would raise this world up to what it should always have been.


He checked the plans again taking in every detail, satisfied he had missed nothing and everything was in order he rolled up the parchments. The fabricator General of Konor has lacked Guillimans sentimentality when it had come to stylus and parchment, Karan Dru had chafed at the idea of manually checking the blueprints for Armatura. The levels of inefficiency had caused his mechadendrites to flex almost uncontrollably, after spending the time to purge his system of any defects he had had his serfs scan the data for him to upload. The scale of the project was unlike anything Karan had ever encountered, as more and more information was uploaded to his data banks it threatened to overwhelm him, he connected to his chambers own cogitators to lessen the strain. All records of the world had been expunged but Guilliman had told him of the worlds history, the Lord Commander had promised that Konor would regain its Forge World status as a sign of good faith. Let Gantz cry out against their reappraisal he thought, even Oud Oudia Raskian himself would praise his work and all who worshipped the machine-God would travel to see this great enactment of His will.



Exactly one century after the first foundations had been laid the war world was ready. The planets entire landscape had once again been changed, mountain ranges and oceans had been moved to make way for the vast numbers of barracks and armouries Guilliman required. Entire cities dedicated to training soldiers and creating astartes stretched across the planets surface, only broken up by countless mustering points, agri domes and manufactorums. This was a planet built for one purpose; war. Karan had used every last servitor on Konor, billions of workers across Ultramar had been drafted in to its construction and now were part of Armatura. Even bitter rivals Gantz had contributed resources In an attempt to win favour with Roboute. The ancient Forge World had gifted a Mars pattern Warlord titan.


Vast orbital shipyards hung above the planet, reflecting the worlds sun rays, a mighty adamantium crown. A lattice work of gantries connected each shipyard and other orbital installation, in time countless vessels of all classes would be teeming here like shoals of fish. For now only a small Mechanicus fleet was present, occupying a handful of the tens of thousands of docking maws. Above the shipyards in the planets outer orbit lay its defence network. Immense orbital battle stations locked in geostationary orbit, their battlements pocketed with mass weapon batteries and landing bays awaiting the arrival of atmospheric fighters. Amongst these mighty bastions of the sky lay automated weapons platforms, mighty laser cannons and macro plasma destroyers all slaved to an army of tech-thralls. These formed the mightiest layer of void defences, the bigger brother to those In the layers below.


It would be years before Armatura was anywhere close to full capacity but for that Karan did not care; he had completed his greatest work, perhaps the greatest work the Imperium had seen since its inception. He allowed the thought of hubris to linger momentarily, his face long ago had lost the ability to express any emotion, he let out a sharp binary cant causing several servitors to move in alarm. All traces of emotions had long ago been replaced by logic and reason but Karan could not help feel sadness at the thought of returning to Konor. As he had increasingly done in the previous months he began to connect to Armaturas control networks. mechadendrites snaked from his fingertips and sought purchase in a small access panel, with a 'click' they connected Karan felt the familiar elation of merging with the machine spirit. He imagined this was how titan crew felt when interfacing with their god-engines. His adrenaline levels spiked as for one last time he let his consciousness merge with the machine spirit.




Chapter Master Hektor looked the statue up and down as he awaited the recruits to form up on the parade ground. The figure was carved from white marble mined on Macragge, a hero from the annals of history. Orfeo he was named, a mighty captain from the Horus Heresy, it was said he faced down the traitorous Primarch Angron; challenging him to single combat. The legendary figure would serve as an example to them all, Hektor made a mental note to research more in to his history. As of yet the chapter he had been charged to lead had lacked a name and now he had a source of inspiration. The Scions of Orfeo, the named seemed very fitting. They would be a number of chapters that were being created, dozens of chapters were being founded all over Ultramar. Portus himself had put Hektor forward for chapter command, the Tetrarch of Andermung impressed by his conduct during the Axia liberation.


After spending two months on Macragge Hektor had travelled to the war world, there he had met with those who would become his company captains; the rest of the chapter headquarters were still being chosen. Each captain had come from a different chapter reflecting the diversity of their gene line, Hektor had made sure he spent time learning about the worlds they hailed from. Guilliman always impressed upon his sons to values of learning, that they should put their super human minds to understanding and improving Imperial worlds where possible. Space marines would no longer be conquerors of worlds but builders of civilisation.


Several thousand young aspirants stood in neat ranks filling up the entire mustering square. They wore white and blue combat fatigues, black boots polishes to a mirror finish. Drill instructors moved amongst their ranks barking last minute instructions as Hektor looked on with his captains. Standards fluttered in the cool breeze, each bore symbols representing the legio barracks they were from, friendly rivalries were encouraged amongst aspirants to motivate them even more. Looking impressive on a parade ground was one thing but how would they fare on a battlefield, that was the real test for the soldiers. Hektor knew that only a small few would make it to be come fully fledged astartes, the majority would go on to join the ranks of the Ultramar auxilia. To become a Space Marine took an extraordinary amount of will power and determination; those who were found to be genetically compatible then raced the most gruelling of training regimes.


Where a good deal of chapters would recruit sporadically as their needs dictated, the Ultramarines and successors would now have a super reliable and efficient recruitment pool. Across hundreds of backwater worlds the youth of many savage tribes would be stolen away as prizes of war, repentant criminals would be offered a new life away from decaying Hive cities. The process and philosophy differed from chapter to chapter, even ones descended from the Ultramarines had their myriad of ways. Not every chapter followed the ways of Macragge and made use of schola's. With the reformation of the five hundred worlds that had changed, Guilliman had introduced sweeping reforms to everything.


Whether you were a Doom Eagle, Aurora or an Ultramarine you were all expected to follow the same set of standards and tenants of war. The colour of the armour would change but how the warrior inside fought would not. Slowly the Ultramarines legion was being rebuilt as chapters became more and more integrated with one another. It was rare now for chapters to fight alone, most battlefields fielded several, all usually commanded by a single appointed Chapter Master. Even the regiments of the Ultramar auxilia would operate under their chain of command now, also joined by the many naval fleets. Every edict that had been in place to curtail the power of the Space Marines had been repealed.

Edited by calgar101
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The reconstruction efforts are well-written, giving enough details to be informative, but not so much as to fatigue a reader.



Even bitter rivals Gantz had contributed resources In an attempt to win favour with Roboute.

Did you mean "Even bitter RIVAL Gantz had contributed resources In an attempt to win favour with Roboute," (emphasis mine, using a singular instead of a plural), or something else?
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This chapter deviates but it is part of a cunning plan I assure you :whistling:


Chapter 5



In ages long past he had sworn oaths to protect that which they now cast down, like the others he had turned his back on all they had fought for. Warsmith Barkan had once commanded the 117th Grand Company, assigned to watch over some worthless back water world the name of which he no longer cared to remember. The 'King Slayers' as they had become to be known had put entire worlds to the sword, smashed Ork Waaaghs apart and furthered the ideals of the Great Crusade all for a lord who did not care. As the 'King Slayers' continued to expand the Emperors realm their supply lines became overstretched and reinforcements ground to a halt, the only word they received from their Primarch was 'Hold'. As was customary for Iron Warrior they fortified their position building an impressive legionary fortification, hoping it would be used as a forward base for upcoming offensives. Occasionally merchant vessels would stop off to resupply but it was clear their legion had forgotten them.


It was over a year into the rebellion before the 'king Slayers' had been made aware of it, a lone Death Guard cruiser however stopped by and passed on the news. His bitterness towards Perturabo only grew, then the news of Olympia's destruction was like a hammer blow. Barkan refused to join his forces with his compatriots and diminished as they had become his forces made light work of the Death Guard. Relishing the challenge it brought, the Warsmith led a boarding party and captured the cruiser. Barkan broke free of his thoughts and cast his gaze around his bridge. The Olympian class battle barge had been his flagship since the Great Crusade, those who had built it had knew their craft well. Like most ships built for the Iron Warriors it bore no ornamentations only simple legion markings, every aspect of the ships design was given over to excelling at war. Its only sign of any self aggrandisement was the large gold lettering stamped across its hull; 'Storm Breaker'.


Storm breaker had once led over two dozen ships in to battle but now it was a solitary hunter in the sea of stars. Patiently they were waiting amongst the distant asteroid belt, the small Imperial transports were ponderously making their way to the systems edge for their war jump. With the loss of his cruisers and frigates Barkan had perfected this style of ship combat, he found a certain joy in preying on these soft targets. He had ordered the ship to power down, only essential life support systems were drawing power from massive plasma drives, even its void shields had been lowered. The Storm breakers bridge had no viewing port, a mass of adamantium where one should have been, hours earlier he had manually plotted the most likely route to be used and had planned accordingly.


He gave a quick prayer to the Chaos gods hoping his course would be true, even one of those ships would be much needed prize. Barkan was not a true worshipper of the gods, after Perturabo had abandoned him and the fall of the Emperor, he swore he would follow no higher power again. However he was a great pragmatist and had seen the power the warp had to offer, to him it was just another weapon but one that needed great respect. Most of his war band worshipped the gods, so long as it proved useful he allowed the practices to continue, he had even had a cargo hold converted in to a large shrine to the fell powers for his crew. Yes chaos and the warp were just weapons he had convinced himself. A warning rune flashed across his helmet, the time to hunt had arrived.


With a mighty strain the plasma drives kicked in to life, as quickly as they dared the command crew brought the ship back to life. Lumen globes threw out light, command consoles danced with activity, a faint blue energy rippled out across the hull. Effortlessly its engines lunched it forwards to intercept its targets. Sensors had picked up two warp signatures not to far ahead, current calculations predicted interception in three hours and 12 minutes. There was not enough time for the Imperial vessels to escape, stupidly the small fleet had been allowed to separate as faster ships left the rest behind. Complacency would be the death of the two that lagged behind. Grinning Barkan gave the order to increase speed, pushing the ancient vessel to its limits. He could only imagine the look of horror on the enemy crew.



Kybor counted down the seconds until impact, the boarding torpedo hurtled towards its target at break neck speeds. Closing his eyes he savoured the exhilarating feeling of speed, feeling his heart twin heart beats hammering in his chest and adrenaline flooded his enhanced body. He became even more alert to his surroundings as his senses kicked in to overdrive. His battle brothers were deep in his own thoughts, each one losing themselves to battle lust as the familiar rages kicked in. The feeling of an insatiable thirst began to take hold, the urge for violence increased every second. He could feel it amongst his brothers, the shared psychic memory of their Primarchs death drove each of them to the edge of a berserk fury before battle. Kybor had once been a sergeant in the Angels Encarmine chapter, leading an assault squad of the 4th company.


It was during the Desolation of Khaldros that they fell, trapped between a horde of warp maddened rebels and a wave of daemons, the strength of the 4th company was slowly being bled. With each death the black rage began to take hold of more and more of his brothers. He remembered it vividly. The guardsmen they fought alongside had looked on in a mixture of sheer horror and disgust at their sudden brutality. In the beginning Kybor had resisted the affliction and was able to keep his squad out of the madness. Then like a thunderbolt the visions struck him hard, Kybor was driven to his knees and then it truly begun. The barrier between dimensions was ripped open and with a mighty ear splitting scream the daemon prince of Slaanesh, Razhak the Tormentor strode forth. In a matter of hours the 4th company had either died or fallen to Chaos. With the promise of salvation and the power to resurrect Sanguinius they had swore their allegiance to Razhak. The path that had led him to his current position had been long and twisting, Warsmith Barkan was the 3rd leader he had pledged allegiance to. Deep down however he harboured the desire to rule his own war band, to better bend the powers of Chaos to his needs, not once had he lost sight of his need to restore his Primarch.


The boarding torpedo slammed in to the ships hull, melta charges cutting through the adamantium with ease. Within seconds the six warriors were in the narrow corridor of the ship, using boarding shields they formed two walls either side of the breach. Warning sirens and shouts echoed up and down the corridor, the sound of footsteps drew ever nearer. With a single command bolters were raised. The flickering lumen strips distorted the moving shadows, sparks were flying from the broken wall sections as torn cables flailed about, a fire had started and smoke was beginning to fill the corridor. The old chapter iconography had been scratched off long and the aquila had been similarly defaced, each of them wore a mixture of armour marks, having scavenged them from fallen foes. The power armours functionality was not affected at all, its enhanced visual systems easily picking out the dozen naval men at arms.


“Advance and kill brothers, leave none left” he sent the orders across the vox link, five acknowledge runes blinked across his helm display.


He knew they would have no objections at this mission, they had a thirst to quench and would enjoy the wholesale slaughter of Imperials greatly. With a sadistic laughter Kybor began his advance, death had come this day and he would be its enforcer.

Edited by calgar101
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The Chaos Space Marine warlords' POV scenes are well-written. I'm surprised a Daemon Prince of Slaanesh offered to resurrect Sanguinius- I've long thought Khorne laid claim to that Primarch.

Who said their offer was anything but a lie?
Considering the relationship between the two Chaos Gods, the Daemon Prince of Slaanesh sounds like an Israeli Jew offering to resurrect Adolf Hitler in exchange for a Neo-Nazi organization's support. Is the Daemon Prince of Slaanesh trolling the Blood God?
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Another nice segment - I'm looking forward to seeing how this aspect links back to the main story. Bjorn does bring up a good point regarding the ancient enmity between the servants of Khorne and Slaanesh though; it seems unlikely that the followers of the Blood God would allow the interference of Slaanesh's servants in such a fashion! (Though, to be fair, this has enough elements in it to be some sort of Tzeentchian plot... :wink: )

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Thank you. It will link in yes, my style is not to leave lose ends really. Without going in to it too much, I would not read in to Razkhaks promise too deeply. It was a lie to corrupt those surviving Blood Angels to his cause. chapters will come slower now due to work, I have half of 6 done so here is a teaser, the rest should be done by tomorrow.



Chapter 6



The Lion was alone, he was always alone or at least that was how he felt. From growing up on Caliban to leading the Dark Angels in the great Crusade he had felt this way. Luther and the Order had provided him some measure of comfort and family but there always existed a barrier between them and the Lion felt a reluctance for him to develop a tight bond. Even with his brother Primarchs he was never close, to him they were brothers in name only. A select few he would enjoy their company, those who were on a similar level to him; Horus, Perturabo, Dorn and Guilliman. He had respected them and their achievements. The events of the Heresy and Scouring changed that somewhat, having spent even more times with his brothers his attitudes had changed. Only the Emperor had truly understood him and now he was gone. No not gone, just incapacitated temporarily; something in his gut told him that the Emperor was not dead. Guillimans appointment as Lord Commander hadn't sat well with the Lion but the more he had learned about the current Imperium the more he begrudgingly accepted it. His promotion to Shield of the Imperium had meant to reassure him and please him, the rank mattered little to him, he knew his duty and would carry it out heedless of what others thought.


He stood in the centre of the small chamber, it had been locked for the previous ten thousand years, its walls roughly hewn from the stone of Caliban. The smell of damp filled his nostrils as he stood in deep thought. One solitary lumen globe struggled to cast its light around the cave, amongst the shadows stood the Watchers their piercing eyes never leaving the Lion.


“My Chapter Master told me you were killed, I suspect different. Reveal yourself to me” the Lion spoke as if to thin air.


The damp air grew heavier in the cave and the Lions skin began to prickle and his hairs stand on end. He felt a presence enter the cave and he sensed the essence of the warp.


“Your fallen son Astelan, he and his corrupted cousins they tried to unite my siblings and I.” a Watcher had stepped forwards from the shadows and was covered in a faint azure glow.


The voice was tired and heavy, he didn't hear it but felt it in his mind. A voice who's guidance and help he had long come to trust. It had been a long and brutal journey from their first encounter but the Tuchulcha had never let him down.


I see, I can only apologise. What of your siblings?”, what Astelan and Typhus had tried to do by reuniting the three sentient warp beings had been explained to him. He was relieved that the Tuchulcha had survived.


“The others managed to survive and flee. Ouroboros has been fully consumed by the great enemy and long lost. Plague heart has also fallen”, the voice was tinged with anger and sadness.


And how do I know you have not been corrupted?” the Lion let the accusation hang there.


The Watcher began to glow a fierce red and a wave of energy rippled outwards from it and buffeted the Primarch. Still keeping calm and collected the Lion stood there, his eyes never left the Tuchulcha's envoy.


“Would I remain here in this accursed rock? I have been offered powered unimaginable by the great enemy, I could rule an entire civilisation, my brothers and I could rule this galaxy perhaps.” as the words echoed around the cave the Lion could see entire worlds burn, legions of men march to their doom and daemons run rampant across the galaxy. All the while a dark laughter echoed throughout.


“No, that was not our purpose, we were created to serve those opposed to chaos. Until my last I shall fight them”.


The Lion simply nodded, some how understanding the Tuchulcha was telling the truth. He didn't fully understand how but he always knew the minds and hearts of those in his company. Even Xenos and his brother Primarchs were not immune to this 'power' as he called it. Perhaps it was something the Emperor had created him with, a small measure of the Emperor's own immense psychic abilities.


How is your strength, can you aid me in a warp jump yet?” asked the Lion.

“Yes I have rested enough. Where do you wish to go?” the air was calm now, all tension had bled away.


Terra, I need to speak to my father” the Lion smiled but there was a hint of sorrow in his eyes, “This time I want no riddles or problems. I want to go to Terra direct.” he continued.


The Watcher turned and walked away, “It will be as you wish”. Even as the Tuchulcha finished speaking the room began to shake slightly, in the distance the sound of warning sirens could be heard. Already the Rock was preparing to make a warp jump. It had been weeks since his meting with his brother, he hoped one of the messenger ships had managed to reach Terra, although he had his doubts. It mattered little, he was a Primarch and son of the Emperor, he would not be denied entry. The Lion made his way to the bridge to oversee the warp jump, he could feel the build up of psychic energies and had orders to issue before the Tuchulcha completed the jump.



Even with the warp being calm any travel through it was always considered perilous and unreliable, journey times could vary wildly. After the Cicatrix Maledictum the warp had become an even more of a dangerous place, the dimension had become an ever shifting mass of roiling psychic energies. Long used and stable warp routes had been lost in the blink of an eye, entire regions shut off by warp storms and countless ships lost to its madness. The Tuchulcha however was a being of immense power, he could manipulate the warp effortlessly and journey through it almost unheeded. Ezekiel had sensed the daemons fleeing from the Rock, their screams of pain and anger driving the Chief Librarian to his knees. At one point several ancient daemons assaulted the gellar fields and tried to overwhelm them, at this point the Watchers lent their psychic powers in aid and threw up a shield around the Rock.


During this time the Lion had been relentless in his planning, not sleeping he had spent every hour pouring over battle plans, tactical maps and more. Ezekiel had his subordinates had managed to make contact with the other Grand Masters of the Dark Angel successors and broke the news of their Primarchs return. The order to make their way to Caliban had been given and once all current wars had been won they would leave. There would be no mad rush to meet the Lion, victory was more important than celebrations. Azrael and Nakir were proceeding with their tasks as planned, that brought him some comfort. Ezekiel had warned him however that the Chaos gods had become aware of him and his return had caused great alarm amongst them. Visions of death had afflicted those librarians present with the fleet for a day, many had slipped in to a coma after suffering from the psychic backlash. It had only been a matter of time before his presence was found out, his plans would need to be carried out at much greater expediency now.


He had finished compiling all of his forces in to lists, smiling as he thought Guilliman would approve of this. Currently he had 83 chapters under his command plus all the support assets they possessed, the fleet was one of the most powerful single naval force in the Imperium. It was less than he had commanded during the crusade era but he had the second largest astartes force in the Imperium. Having studied the copy of the Codex Astartes the Dark Angels possessed, the Lion felt a slight anger at having his legions strength weakened. Whilst chapters had suited the needs of the years following the Scouring, their limited strength had not been enough to halt the ever growing threats. He was glad to have learned that the Dark Angels and successors had largely paid lip service to the Codex Astartes and its rules. Secretly the many chapters had maintained a very close relationship with one another and a suspicious cohesion, many Imperial authorities had accused them of acting like a legion but could never provide proof of such.


It would not take long to reorganise the Dark Angels legion and he had already created the framework for it. Only the four other 'Wings' were missing but in time they would be fielded again, slowly the Lion would make the necessary changes. No longer would they be a mere police force reduced to small level engagements but the all conquering armies they had been. Open on his desk was a draft copy of his brothers new book, the Codex Imperialis was still being penned by Roboute., its subject mater was on the governance of the wider Imperium. Normally he would not be as interested in such a thing but now more than ever he recognised the Primarchs were more than just warlords. Nakir had given his full authority to recruit as many young males as he could, hundreds of worlds would be visited by the Grand Masters fleet. To increase the recruitment pool the age for males had been reduced slightly; as long as each recruit was genetically compatible and physically and mentally healthy then they would be taken, for now standards could be lowered, applicants would could be turned in to warriors via training and the transformation process. He would empty entire worlds he if had to.


Alarms sounded throughout the Rock as it translated in to the edge of the solar system, the high pitched noise momentarily broke his concentration. Setting down the last data slate the Lion stifled a yawn, he did not remember the last time he had slept. The chamber was sparsely decorated, the only furniture was a plain bed, several book shelves and a large desk. Two lumen lamps emitted a sickly yellow light and the pile of data slates threw out their own light. These were not his personal chambers but he had not wanted to be too far from the bridge, having arrived at their destination he began to make himself ready. It would be some time before they reached Terra's orbit but he knew he would have countless vox hails to answer. He could not simply stroll through the galaxies most heavily defended system. Even the mighty Rock would not last long against Terra's defences, as he was thinking this, a vox communication chimed to his left.


Ezekiel's face filled the wall mounted screen, his faces calm as ever. “Captain Makan of the 'Eternal Shield' is hailing us my lord. Our appearance has drawn much attention. What are your orders?”.


Inform the Captain that I will be on the bridge now” the Lion turned and left the room with great haste. He would soon be home he thought, it gave him a new strength as made the short walk. One last hurdle and the Emperor beckoned.


A heavily augmented face met his gaze across the giant viewing screen, tech-priests on both ships constantly fiddled with dials to perfect the picture. The feed distorted slightly as the commanders hailed one another.


I am Captain Makan, you're to power down all shields and weapons and prepare for inspection. Is this clear?” there was no trace of emotion in his voice. Again the feed was interrupted for a moment and cursing could be heard behind the Imperial Captain.


Captain Makan it is an honour to meet you. I am the Lion, Primarch of the Dark Angels and I require immediate clearance for Terra.” the Lion replied.


There was a long pause and Makan could be seen discussing the matter with some one off screen.


I am sorry lord Primarch but you must follow me to the star fort 'His Endurance', I will need to inform Terra of your arrival. The Custodian Guard will no doubt wish to meet with you.” the vox hail was cut off.


A wave of irritation rolled over the Lion, his fists curled up tight in to fists as his anger built up and the bridge became very tense. Looking out of the armoured view port he saw the 'Eternal Shield', the grand cruiser slowly turning about, behind it loomed 'His Endurance'; the star fort was one of many that guarded the systems Mandeville point. Each star fort was ringed by a mighty belt of weapons platforms and ships of the Imperial Navy were always on patrol. The Rock had already began to move to its destination. Briefly the Lion considered leaving but thought better of it, he would put up with the rigmarole of security, he let his anger subside. At least the Custodes would come to meet him, that should speed up any other security vetting he thought, dealing with the insufferable golden warriors would be worth that at least he thought.

Edited by calgar101
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This is well-written, for the most part. The Author's Notes in the beginning could be put in a quote box, to distinguish it from the rest of the story.



“Your fallen son Astelan, he and his corrupted cousins they tried to unite me and my siblings”

Proper grammar should make it read, "Your fallen son Astelan, he and his corrupted cousins they tried to unite my siblings and I," (emphasis mine). The period is missing from the end of that sentence.
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