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post #1 of 32 (permalink) Old 05-27-11, 12:39 AM Thread Starter
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Default Renegades - an alternative heresy tale


Chapter one

Venus IX was a world that was considered the beauty of the sector.

Brought into compliance with no bloodshed, the people of this world had accepted that the Emperor of mankind was the rightful and just ruler of the heavens and the worlds within his aegis that they saw no need to fire a shot in anger.

When the mighty Imperial Fist had claimed this world in the name of the Emperor the populace had celebrated and feasted for days on end. The sons of Dorn had, for once, managed to bring a world to illumination with no loss of life, shame it was not always like that.

For over thirty years Venus IX so called for its blue skies, white clouds and verdant forests, the clean crisp seas free from poisons and toxic waste, home to creatures that were descended from those long extinct on Holy Terra, had been a world loyal to the Imperium and a recruiting ground for the Imperial Fists themselves.

She had raised seven Imperial Army units all of whom fought alongside the Fists as their own detachment and had brought much honour and rewards to the people back home.
The governor, a former commander of the Mercia III light infantry straightened his uniform, allowing the medals given to him in service to the Emperor and the Imperium to straighten.

He brushed then with his fingertips ensuring that there was not one speck of dust on them. His uniform was pressed to the highest standards; with creases down his trousers so sharp you could get a cut from them. His boots shone to the highest shine that he fancied he could see his reflection in them.

He stood straighter as his attendant clasped his cloak into place. Everything had to be right today; today was the first time in a decade that the sons of Dorn had returned here and not only that, Rogal Dorn himself was coming.

One did not appear before the Primarch of the Imperial Fists, the Emperors Champion looking like a recruit just awakened for early muster. He shooed away his attendant, a small fussy individual who had tutted over aspects of the governor’s attire even when the governor himself was pleased with how he looked.

“Enough Jerome,” He harshly spoke “Any more preening and I will look like a prize peacock, I am respectable”

“I just do not want you to be missing anything sir.” Jerome replied with a nervous edge to his voice.

Governor Jarus Kelnick did not blame him one little bit for his nervousness, the Phalanx, the mighty Imperial Fists vessel had entered their space an hour ago and if he said he did not feel nervous then he would be a liar.

Who would not be a nervous when they were about to come face to face with a demi-god?

He sat upon his throne. Closing his eyes and listening to the heart of his mighty starship, bigger than anything that had ever been seen, this floating monastery city that housed his sons in all their numbers.

From serfs to crew and his own gene-enhanced sons, the Imperial Fists this was their home. The Phalanx. A vessel so mighty that even from the ground it could be seen with the naked eye and that was enough to cause any heart to stop in fear. For when the home of the Imperial Fists, the sons of the Emperors own Praetorian came calling it was time to re-think and surrender.

He let his mind wander back, back to the Imperial Palace's inner sanctum in the place that the Emperor called his private peace. He had been locked underground working on a project that had taken him away from the crusade, away from the Imperium and away from his sons.

What had surprised him more was that upon his return there were only seven of his brothers present and he had been puzzled by the non-inclusion of the others, his father had welcomed them all with great hugs of affection.

He himself had been concerned and when he saw the master of the Night Lords standing side by side with the father of the Dark Angels and the Phoenix of the Emperors Children, a slight sense of dread had begun to sit in the pit of his stomach.

“Rogal,” His father’s voice, deeper than any of theirs and yet whilst spoken softly and with genuine affection, could be heard clear across the room “Konrad,” The Emperor turned to the pale all black master of Nostramo “it is time for you both to forget your differences”

The lord of the Imperial Fists and the father of night glared at each other but it was only Dorn who had felt the slight tremble in his hands as he faced the one brother who had almost killed him a few months ago.

“Come on now boys,” The Emperor placed his huge hands on their shoulders, Dorn held his head high at his father’s affection, Curze flinched visibly, unused to such show of affection from his father. “Kiss and make up”

Dorn could see Curze's eyes flicker a little and then with a slight hesitation he held his hand out. Knowing how much it must have took for his silent brother to even do that gesture Dorn held his hand in the warrior grip.

The Emperor seemed pleased by the act and bid them to sit down. He gazed amongst them all and nodded to himself. Almost as if he was pleased by what he had seen.

“Father,” Dorn was surprised to find that it was his voice that now broke the expectant silence “Where are Horus and the others”

The Emperors eyes darkened “They will not be coming” He rumbled and for the first time since he had been reunited with his father, Dorn finally understood where Konrad Curze got his dark and intimidating voice.

The lord of the Phalanx now watched the world below his scrutinising gaze. He was not here to parley with the governor, at this moment the Primarch was waiting to see if what he had been sent for was really here.

He had his vox officer send word to the surface that he would be delayed then rising from his throne retired into his stratagem and stood staring out his window. His eyes seemed to bore into the star field before him but his mind was back on Terra.

The Emperor moved back to his throne and sat himself down beckoning his sons towards him. Now Dorn saw who else was in this strange and bewildering meeting.

The hulking form of the War Hound himself, the Red Angel, the father of the World Eaters, with his red hair tied into braids and his implants that heightened his already fearsome rage to killing heights. He always reminded Dorn of some ancient gladiatorial warrior from the Romani of old Terra legends.

He reminded himself that Angron had been a gladiator but for some reason he pictured him in the old coliseums of Rome fighting his emperors enemies in the most bloodthirsty way he could. Then again Angron was a bloodthirsty killer held back by the sheer dint of being a Primarch and yet, yet he could sense that none of that mattered for when Angron was unleashed worlds trembled.

Beside him stood the lord of the Iron Hands, The Gorgon, and the master craftsman with hands of flowering mercury. If all his brothers were considered handsome on some level Ferrus Mannus was the opposite, the embodiment of his adopted world Medusa, there was no one more attuned to the ways of that volcanic world then the master smith himself.

Fulgrim, the one of them all that apparently looked like their father in his younger days and even with his snow hair he was certainly handsome enough to turn any heads. His pride showed in his legion, a cruel accident had robbed him of the majority of his legion before it was even born so, for a number of years he had fought in Horus' shadow until such a time that they were large enough in number to operate autumnally.

He was a Prideful man and that reflected in his legion and he never tired of reminding people when it was deemed necessary that they and they alone bore the Aquila upon their breastplates. Sometimes Rogal despaired of his prideful brother, but like the others he was a fighter and a warrior lord without peer.

His gaze fell upon Curze, the one brother who he was not altogether comfortable around and whose hand he had nearly died by. Konrad was murderous there was no doubt about that and their father had always waved away the excesses of the Night Lords saying that they were like the World Eaters and the Rout, when a world would not comply or had fallen out of the growing Imperiums light then he would send the Night Lords in to bring the Emperors Justice to them all.

He moved his gaze although it was not before those black eyes of the Night Haunter locked gazes with him for a split second and a thin cruel smile crossed those bloodless lips, Dorn held the gaze for a moment and for added effect Curze flexed his talons, Dorn rolled his eyes and continued with his assessment. Despite appearances there were some thing’s that would never change.

Beside him there stood Lion El'Johnnson, the lord of Caliban and in some ways the closest thing to a best friend that Curze had, to be honest the only ones that Dorn knew he got along with were Mortarion, Fulgrim and the Lion. As ever the Lion remained poker faced, his eyes nether flickering or giving away anything that might have given the lord of the Fists a clue as to what this strange gathering was all about.

Finally beside the Emperor in his resplendent armour, his gold leaf panted face and charcoaled eyes gazing at their father in rapt and unhidden adoration was Lorgar, the prophet of Colchis, the Word being just two of his affectations and right now he was looking at their father like he was a god.

“My sons. “The Emperor spread his mighty arms wide “Come follow me and you will share what I have learnt and what I have done to enable man to rule the stars.”

“The scouts report that all has been found My Lord.” Sigismund spoke close to his father’s ear “They encountered little resistance but the governor is now hailing us wanting answers, what I shall say to him?”

Rogal Dorn stared at the world below them and clasped his hands behind his back “Teach them what it is like to hide important relics that belong to the lord of mankind away” he simply said “Illuminate them”

Several hours later as the Phalanx moved away the last dying screams of Venus IX faded with the fires of a virus bomb and the turning point for the Crusade.

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post #2 of 32 (permalink) Old 05-30-11, 01:08 AM Thread Starter
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Chapter 2

The only sound that could be heard was the song of death. Mighty titans strode the battlefield pumping out their visceral fury in the name of the Emperor and the great crusade. The warriors of the Deliverance Imperial Army fought alongside the mighty warriors of The Deliverer himself.

They could be seen in the air like giant missiles, their black and white armour all but a blur as they enacted their father’s orders. This world was not going to come to compliance willingly and as the titans hammered their deathly payload at the citadel walls the Raven Guard followed their father to victory.

The Imperial Army moved up under the shadow of the Deus Morti, a mighty Emperor Warmonger Titan, standing like a mighty god, its plasma reactor heart singing in battle, the ammunition that flew from its massive weapons cutting the air like a hundred
Thousand rounds of death and everywhere it hit, it killed.

Corax himself was like a black whirl of obsidian, the flashes of his lightning claws cutting head from shoulders, limbs from socket and he was unstoppable. His pale features like a spectre of death was all that could be made out as the lord of Deliverance, delivered the Imperiums wrath to those who dared stand against it.

He soared into the air like a giant bird of prey, his first company behind him and hovered over the domed window, directing his first company to their targets and folding his arms across his chest like some ancient Pharaoh tuned himself upside down and accelerated towards the windows of the dome.

As he came down the glass around him shattered outwards and downwards. The glass was made to shelter from the world’s harsh elements and to some degree attacks but it was not strong enough to withstand the weight of a space marine and it was most certainly not made to withstand the charging attack of a Primarch.

At the last moment he righted him self and cooled his jets, his sons coming to land in rows behind him, their bolters up and ready, trained on the people in the senate house. Corax rose last from the crouch that he had landed in and raised his head.

The superstitious humans backed away from the dark haired pale god that rose before them, his dark eyes almost inhumanly dark seemed to bore through them and into their souls.

Although he looked like some pale rider of death his voice was anything but pale. A deep resonating voice that seemed to carry over the entirety of the room even though he spoke quietly.

“The time of your deliverance is at hand” He spoke “You cannot win this war and we will take more of you until you accept that we are only here to bring you back into humanities welcome embrace, as brothers and sisters, not as enemies.”

The rest of the senate, men and women all stepped back, terrified of the giants that walked amongst them and more petrified of the giant that seemed to rule over these men in black and white.

“Swear your oath to the Imperium and I shall end this needless death and destruction” He held his arms out almost as if he were imploring the people to listen to him, to see him not as a destroyer of their culture and their way of life, but more as a man who was going to help them usher in a new dawn.

The ruling members of this world named Halestron listened and as they listened they heard the sound of the Titan, the great monster that had caused so much death and destruction amongst their armed forces step closer and each step caused the ground to shake beneath its tread.

Stone fell from the buildings around them and their senate house itself shook as if the very gods that they had believed in all their lives were shaking the very foundations that this great building had been erected upon.

“What will happen to us?” One man asked, swallowing his fear and approaching the Primarch directly.

Bolters trained on him for daring to speak to their master without being spoken to first but Corax shook his head and the bolters were lowered.

“You will be re-educated into the arms of the Imperium and become a productive world alongside those of your kinsmen out in the stars. You will become part of a greater endeavour, your sons and daughters will join our armies to march in glory across the heavens and they will look back and say that this was a good day”

“We were part of a dictator once before and you would ask us to give our freedom from one over to another?” The man shook his head “a man that claims to be the rightful ruler of mankind, what gives him that right?”

Corax studied the man that stood no taller than his waist, his red hair seemed to be aflame in certain shades of light and his grey eyes bore into the face of the Primarch and showed no fear, Corax had to admire him for that at least.

It was very few humans who could hold the gaze of a Primarch without losing their sensibilities.

“Did he create the heavens? Did he create this world?” The man continued, “He had nothing to do with our world and yet after centuries of being cut off from this world that our ancestors left, he suddenly steps forth from the night and proclaims himself the rightful ruler of mankind”

Corax cocked his head to one side like a crow sizing up its next meal “He is the lord of Terra and he there is no other like him, there can never be another like him. He is ageless and he is immortal and that my friend gives him the right”

“Why couldn’t he have come himself?” The man finally asked “Why could he have not come himself and spoke to our liege lord who now lies dead under your army’s guns and tell us himself about this glorious Imperium of his?”

In truth Corax did not know what to say to the man. This brave man that stood up to him and asked him questions that not many others here would have dared. He liked him and he wished he could tell him the truth, but Corax did not know the answer to give that would not have been wrong to the man’s ears.

Instead he replied as a son and not a warlord that had come to drag their world into the new empire.

“He has many duties to perform to ensure that all worlds take their place as the rulers of the universe and so I and my brothers, his sons and our sons take the word out to the people ourselves.

There is no more gods, humanity does not need the shackles of religion, and it is what has kept them chained in ignorance. I understand why you fought us and fought us you did; your brave warriors all proved that they are loyal to their world.

Yet, let us bring you the Imperial Truth and let us learn from you as you will learn from us.”

“And if we do not you will kill us all where we stand?”

“I will do as my father orders to bring this world into the Imperium of man” Corax replied “but I do not want this bloodshed to continue. What is your name?”

That wrong footed the man a little and he almost did not reply, yet recovered quickly and held his head high, although looking up into the pale features of the lord of Deliverance almost gave him vertigo.

“My name is Drago”

“And how old are you Drago?”

“I am 19 winters old”

Corax removed one of his lightning talons and rested a hand on Drago’s shoulders “Would you like to stride the stars as a warrior of the Emperor, as a warrior without fear and a warrior bringing honour to his world?”

Drago arched an eyebrow “I thought I had brought honour to my world”

Corax swept his arm round him “Would you like to become one of my Raven Guard, one of my sons and stride into the unknown fighting the xenos that had plagued your world and others like it?”

Drago turned his gaze to the stoic warriors that surrounded the Primarch and swallowed heavily.

“Your world is not so far from my world of Deliverance” Corax gently spoke “I believe that many of your world’s sons would make fine additions to my sons and the armies that stride the universe”

Drago turned to his people and watched as one by one they lay down their arms and slowly moved to one knee. The fight had left them, with the monster at their door they had no wish to see any more of their people die and maybe it would not be too bad becoming part of this Imperium of man.

Drago clenched his fists for a moment and slowly he moved to one knee and bowed his head “Our world is yours…. my lord”

Corax nodded and turned his first captain “Salora, call it off, have the remembrances come down and the iterators and begin compliance”

“Yes my lord”

“And choose twenty of their young to return to Deliverance to begin the process of becoming Astartes…including this young man”

“He may still resent you for taking his world Lord, is that wise?” Salora cautiously asked.

“It’ll make him strong, there is a fire in him that I like, reminds me of when I was that age”

Salora laughed but behind his vox grill it came out more like the snort of a bullock “Were you ever that young my lord?”

Corax allowed himself a wry smile and shrugged “Maybe not but still I like him.”

Salora nodded and stepped towards the still kneeling Drago and took his gently by the arm “Say goodbye to your mother and father Drago…”

“They are dead already” He muttered.

Salora was silent for a moment then continued “Then come with me and soon you will be part of a new brotherhood and one that will teach you how to be a warrior of mankind.”

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post #3 of 32 (permalink) Old 05-30-11, 07:09 PM
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Great read.
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thanks chapter two should be up sometime tomorrow but thanks :D
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Chapter 3

The Emperor stood in the centre of the monastery fortress that was home to the Word Bearers, watching sternly as Lorgar and his First Chaplain set the gifts brought here by his other sons reverently.

They set them on the plinths that the Emperor had pointed out and then ordered the Astartes out, only he and his sons would witness this.

It was quiet at first and then, in low murmurings Lorgar began to recite from a book that his father had given him. As Rogal watched he met Konrad’s gaze and for the first time in those dark dead eyes he saw a spark of life, a spark of acceptance.

Ferrus stood with his head held high like some ancient knight waiting for his benediction, Fulgrim stood tall and proud, pride being what he knew best, and it radiated off him. Angron trembled from head to toe, like a berserker straining at the leash to be set free from his confines and to bring death and mayhem to the universe.

The Lions eyes blazed with glories untold and the future as he saw it. He returned his gaze to his father who now stood with his arms outstretched and whether he wanted to or not he could not help but follow his brothers in the chant that came from Lorgars lips.

Just behind the Emperor stood Constantine Valdor, his features stoic and his loyalty as ever to the man in the centre of the room, no matter where it would be. Or what path it would take.

Suddenly Lorgars voice rose in intensity and behind him a cacophony of voices echoed like a demonic choir. Wherever their father had been and whatever he had seen he had made his choice and the powers in the warp had answered him.

Great forms materialised behind him. Too his right was a towering hulking warrior who blood like a shroud, the coppery tang of it followed him wherever he moved. Anger and rage contained in one cauldron of blood and hate.

Another was like a bloated giant that held the tang of disease and pestilence around him but for the moment it seemed to be kept in check by what none of them knew. Death followed, as surely in his steps as it did the simmering other beside him.

To the Emperors left stood a huge form that seemed to swirl with many colours, a riot of colour that one moment was humanoid, the next a great feathered serpent they could not even be sure which was real and which was false, the hands of fate and destiny weaved into one powerful form

At the end stood a man who was also feminine, half the body of a man the other half of a woman and oh how beautiful he looked, pleasure and pain emanated off him/her in equal measure and all that was in-between.

In the middle their father turned his face to the heavens and his eye lit with arcane power, power that had birthed him so many scarlet forgotten centuries ago and as Lorgars enthralled and rapture voice came to the end of his Gregorian chant their father lowered his head and encompassed his chosen sons.

“I am a god,” he bellowed, “as are you all!”

Lorgar moved to one knee followed by Fulgrim, then Angron, Valdor followed Angron then the Lion, Ferrus was next and slowly as one Dorn and Curze did the same. Their loyalty made forever bound to their father and his destiny.

“What of our other brother’s father?” Fulgrim asked waiting for his father’s instructions as a follower waited anxiously for the leader’s next words.

“They will not see my dream and we shall make them see it… I will either have you all or they will die.” The Emperor bid them rise “do this secretly my sons, until the time to strike and when I give the signal then things must be as they always were.”

They stood as one and swore their allegiance not only to their father once more as they had done when he had first set foot upon the worlds he had found them upon but to the powers that walked alongside him.

Magnus woke with a start, the sweat pouring from his brow and for the first time in his life he knew what it was to feel fear. He reached for a goblet but his shaking hand spilled it from the desk sending it crashing to the floor and spilling its contents.

He breathed several times to try and calm his superhuman body, he had tried to see if his dream, nay his nightmare was just that or real but instead of the calm after such a vision all he could see was the same waking vision.

His father…

He had warned his father countless times that no matter how much he thought he could control the powers of the warp eventually it would make him an offer that even he could not refuse.

His father had laughed at him and told him that he and he alone knew how to work the warp and for all his power Magnus was not yet ready to contain or control such abilities.

Now it would appear neither did his father.

He got up, Horus had to be told, and Horus would know what to do.

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Wow this is good stuff I love it! You write really well and I like the alternative Heresy angle alot.

"Four thousand throats may be cut in one night by a running man."
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thankyou very much
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post #8 of 32 (permalink) Old 06-12-11, 02:57 PM
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Default Wow!!!!

I really enjoyed the read. I had to struggle to remember this was an alternater reality. It was scarey and alien to me. The feelings that I had when I started reading the original Horis H. series of who is on who's side, who are the good guys and the bad and who can be trusted encompased me yet again. Real good work. Adrian.

A good reputation take a long time to build, but only a moment to destroy. Wow, that's deep! Check out the H.O.E.S. short story competition.
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thank you very much
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Chapter 4

Perturabo watched cautiously as the Dark Angels disembarked from their troop’s ships and drop pods. His warsmiths stood around him also watching the arrival to the first legion with a perplexed air.

It was not like the other legions to interfere in the work of the siege master himself. The Comrade folded his massive arms across his chest, his cold indifferent eyes gave nothing away, and none of the warsmiths dared ask what his thoughts were on these most unexpected turnarounds.

Perturabo showed little interest in the machinations of his other brothers. He did not see eye to eye with all of them for one reason or another, with perhaps the exceptions of Horus and maybe Vulkan but that was it.

He had received word that the Dark Angels were coming to aid them find a solution to the siege of the Hansana Fortress. He had baulked at that, the very idea that he, the Olympian, the siege master without peer needed aid galled him and as it had come direct from their father it had made his father look all the more slight in the sullen Primarchs eyes.

Forrix, captain of the first grand company bowed before his father “Forgive me my lord,” he began “But why has the first legion been sent here? The Emperor beloved by all knows how we operate”

It was a while before his Primarch spoke and when he did it was that same tone that he always used, a cadence that would never let anyone knows or understands what he really thought, not even his sons.

“That my son is a good question,” he rumbled darkly.

The Warsmiths bowed as the Lion joined his brother and clasped his hand in a warriors grip. The Dark Angels with him bowed their heads but Mannran and Hardan, two of Perturabos bodyguard noticed that the Dark Angels did this more out of instinct then any real respect for their father and when this observation had settled in their heads they found themselves gripping their halberds tightly.

Still despite what they and their brothers might have thought the fact that they were in the presence of two mighty demi-gods awed them beyond belief, the human officers of the Olympian Imperial Army had to avert their eyes less they were unmanned by the sight of two giants standing together.

The Lion looked over the trenches that his brothers’ sons had dug and nodded to him self. Even he had to admit that when it came to this war craft then even Rogal Dorn could learn a thing or two.

The Lion was amused that his brothers referred to Perturabo as The Comrade but he, like his brothers he was curious how the Iron Warriors managed to have such an affinity with technology and, like the Iron Hands had some sort of affinity with the mechanicum.

Not a lot impressed the Lion but the way Perturabo seemed to sweep his stern gaze over a battlefield and know instinctively where to place elements of his legion and the supporting titans was nothing short of uncanny.

The people of this world called by the locals D’reana Jackala or as it translated into high gothic Sandstorm Plateau had not wanted to become part of this mighty Imperium. They had long held onto the tenants of their own orders and beliefs and saw no reason why they should have to give it up.

The Iron Warriors had swept across the continent, a single landmass with one ocean like hell unleashed. They may be masters of siege warfare but when it came to close combat then there were those that said they were more berserk then even the World Eaters or Blood Angels.

In a matter of days the Iron Warriors had brought down the majority of these desert worlds bastions and now only this mighty fortress remained. The trenches had been dug overnight and at a speed faster than anyone would have thought and this was only the first parallel.

Perturabo ignored his observing brother and stood directly before the bastion. His mighty arms folded across his chest and his harsh eyes boring into the hiding soldiers. His own enhanced senses hearing the terrified hammering of their hearts, the stink of their fear as it manifested in sweat and urinated britches and loosened bowels.

These were soldiers on the brink of surrender and he had herded them like a shepherd into this fortress. It would not stand he had already worked out the right amount of firepower needed to bring it down. Still this was what he did best and he had some inane need to wipe the stern expression off the face of the first legion.

“Hear me and hear me well” He boomed, his voice causing more humans to cower in fear.

They had never had to face such an enemy before, they were demons sent by the dark gods to take them into slavery or worse, to feast on them. When the Iron Warriors had heard this they had found some amusement in it.

Had it been the World Eaters then that might have been a little bit closer to the mark. Still it had served a purpose, they were fed up here and they wanted to be elsewhere but they knew that the Emperor, beloved by all would expect their father to pick a company to garrison the world.

And that was something that was getting on their collective nerves and it rattled their father too. They had brought worlds into the Imperium as well as any other legion but that was overlooked, a lot.

“I will give you but one chance to lay down your arms” Perturabos voice brought his sons out of their collective musings “You has until sunrise tomorrow to surrender your arms and open the gates. This is the only chance you will get”

He stood for a moment longer as if to emphasis his point, then turning his back he walked back to where his brother stood and took him into the command tent dismissing the other officers.

When Primarchs got together it was for their ears only and no one else had a right to listen.

“So Lion” Perturabo closed the flap on his tent and met his brothers eyes “What brings you to this godforsaken planet”

The Lion smiled a little and straight away a shiver wound its way down The Comrades spine. It was not a feeling he was used to and it was unpleasant.

“Father wishes this world to be taught a lesson brother, how not to battle against his will and his sons”

“You know how I operate Lion, I do not just murder a world for the sake of insult to the Imperium, and they get one chance to surrender no more.”

The Lion moved round the tent, brushing his fingers against the desk that housed all the plans that the warsmiths and their father made. It was a long while before he spoke and when he did his voice sounded haughtier then it usually did to the lord of Olympia’s ears.

“Things are changing brother and we are here to aid you”

“I do not need your help” he spat.

“Indeed” The Lion inclined his head a little accepting that this was probably not the right choice of words. “My words are poorly chosen Perturabo and I – apologise. I just feel that it is a shame that your brave sons must forever garrison worlds that the humans can do. “

“It’s never been an issue before now” Perturabo frowned a little.

“Like I said brother, things are changing and if the humans within that bastion are foolish enough to continue this war then allow me and my sons to wage war alongside you.”

Perturabo nodded but he did not like this sudden show of brotherly affection by the Lion, it was out of character. This was not the Lion El’Johnnson he knew and that was in itself cause for concern.

Dawn seemed a long time in coming for the Imperial Army and their Astartes masters. But if it was a long time for them it was probably even worse for the warriors behind the walls of the fortress.

Once they had been complacent in their view that these fortresses of stone could withstand any attack by any invader and had it been any invader that might have been true.

Had it been any other Astartes with perhaps exception to the Imperial Fists then they might have held out.

But this was the comrade, the siege master and there was not a fortress built that he had not risen to the ground. This was why his father chose him for this kind of warfare, because despite his brothers rubbing it in his face about Dorns master of fortifications status none could do what he did.

The sun climbed the morning sky sluggishly almost as if it knew that this might be the last day that the people of this world would gaze upon its millennia upon millennia journey. Even the birds had fallen silent and Perturabo for a moment felt sorrow for this world.

It was a fleeting moment but it was there never the less, not that he let anyone see it. He had a job to do and he did not want his brother upstaging him like he seemed to upstage everyone else around him. This was his theatre of war and he would listen to what he had told him.

Whether he liked it or not.

Forrix shook his head, as his father stood beside him “They have not surrendered my lord” he quietly said “I see guns on the emplacements and along the walls. They want to die I think”

“Then we shall give them their wish.” He nodded to himself “Shame really but they have brought this upon themselves…sons of Olympia lets show them what it means to die with honour”

The warriors in the bastion fought with all they had left, they may have been afraid of the giants in burnished silver with black shoulder pauldrons and yellow chevrons. They could not stop the rain of death and destruction as the mighty titans and guns that accompanied the Iron Warriors wherever they went brought the walls of their impenetrable fortress tumbling down.

When the restates came over the walls both Iron Warriors and Dark Angels cut them down like they were nothing more than training dummies. The blood turned the remnants of the fortress stone red.

Their rifles were no match against the bolters that barked into soft flesh blowing them to pieces or power swords that cut them in half cauterising the cuts as they went with their intense heat.

Lion El’Johnnson roared an affirmation to the Emperor that Perturabo was not altogether sure he had heard correctly. The two Primarchs battled their way to the central tower although battled was probably not the correct word. More to the point massacred their way would have been better.

When they got to the top Perturabo lowered his mighty Warhammer and stood looking at the terrified women and children that huddled together. He had killed warriors who really were no match for him or his sons but he was not about to kill women and children.

He stopped his brother as he came in and looked at the leader of the shattered people. The sound of the guns his power and the screams of dying and wounded joining the cacophony of noise that surrounded him and it were working.

“Your women and children will see in the new Imperium if you wish to live stop now, you have my word that nothing more will befall your warriors, they have my respect but they have lost against the forces of the Emperor”

The man closed his eyes and looked at the terrified family groups. They had been protecting their families. News had reached him that not many people had survived the initial onslaught of the Iron Warriors.

He heaved a shuddery breath “What will happen to us…will you kill me for not surrender to you at dawn?”

Perturabo was about to answer when the Lion walked up to the terrified man and raised him off the ground.

“What are you doing?” Perturabo roared.

“Carrying out our fathers will “The Lion retorted “Your people will live to serve the master of mankind you will not, he has no need for a broken leader” and with a deft flick of his wrist broke the man’s neck.

Perturabo stared and then roared. He grabbed the Lion and threw him clean out the room. He turned to his first company “Take the humans out of here and the fighting stops now, we have won do not allow any more to die.”

“Yes my lord” Forrix bowed his head and did as his father ordered mobilising his company at the same time.

Perturabo stood over the Lion as he got to his feet “What did you do that for?”

“Brother, they would have rebelled you know this, your adoptive father still vexes you even now…”

“That” The Comrade hauntingly warned, “is none of your concern. I told him he was not going to die then you kill him! You have dishonoured me!”

“I did what was the right thing to do” the Lion corrected

“That was not the right thing to do!” Perturabo, usually so calm and quiet, his brooding nature making his brothers and those who did not really understand him see him as a petulant child roared his anger.

“You think they would have stayed loyal?” The Lion laughed incredulously “They would have rebelled and you know it”

“I know nothing of the sort” Perturabo growled, “I don’t know why you were sent here but get your sons and get off my theatre”

“I told you brother things are changing and you will change with them,”

“On who’s say so? A man that is so paranoid he sends half of his legion back to Caliban to forget them” Perturabo sneered “If this is your idea of change brother I want no part of it” he spat and stood straighter “Get out of my LZ”

The Iron Warriors watched as the Lion led his sons away Perturabo narrowed his eyes. There was no reason to kill that man, he had been beaten and he would have been a loyal citizen of this the lord of Olympia was certain but what the Lion had did was beyond belief.

“Get the remembrances here,” He barked “Bring the Imperial Truth to this world”

Last edited by gothik; 08-30-11 at 01:43 PM.
gothik is offline  

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