For clarification the quote at the start of the chapter in no way implies a double reincarnation. Just some weird experiential genetic preferences.
Chapter 11
Curse my Psyker abilities! I wanted to be a Forgemarine and conduct research far from the front lines!
-Librarian Derrick Frenne
Kaedes Nex looked down the sights of his Mark III Shrike-pattern sniper rifle at the Ork shaman. He, along with the other Moritat Astartes, had taken up positions. The Ork-infested ruin was home to hundreds of thousands of the creatures, and it had been a challenge to get into position.
Plan's simple. Kill any of the ones with staves or other foci, then the sky brings friends.
Kaedes – or, as the folk from Deliverance liked to call him, the Blood Crow –hadn't joined the Moritat because he sought death. It was just the best place to deal death in the way he liked to. The hunt was where the excitement was at, the kill itself the culmination of the journey, but it was over and done in a heartbeat. The lead-up, every centimeter of his self alive and taut, the delicious tension… that was what he lived for.
The signal was given, and he squeezed the trigger. The hyperfrag round struck the Ork between the eyes. Detonating an instant later, the shrapnel spewed forth death, completely pulping the interior of the Greenskin's skull. The Orks reacted like Orks, with anger and excitement, eager to find a foe they could kill.
He quickly sighted the next Ork, this one with a Chainsword mounted to his arm. Kaedes only took a moment to steady his aim and fired again. Another grisly shower of viscera, and he struck out at a third.
The Orks started firing everywhere with their primitive weapons that hurled still-dangerous rounds. Through some strange Xenos sense, several pointed in his direction, and hundreds of Orks charged. Grinning behind his Power Armor, he holstered his rifle and drew his Fulcrum Hand Cannons.
The Fulcrum Hand Cannons, a pair of them, were his weaponry. His rate of fire was twice as fast as with his sniper rifle, and with two of them, it brought the number of Orks he could kill in quick succession even higher. He retreated as he fired, killing Orks with ease. One burst through a wall to his right, and he ducked under its axe and shouldered the large creature in the chest, pushing it back through the hole it had made. As it fell, he sent an electrically charged round from his Hand Cannon into its head.
Above him, the Thunderhawks provided covering fire as more of the Astartes joined the fight. Killing Orks, well, these Orks at least, was easy. However, there had been a disastrous battle where an Ork Psyker had pulled a descending Thunderhawk down and smashed it into the ground, killing almost all the passengers and destroying an important asset. Since then, orders from the Lord Commander of the 8th Chapter were for Moritat squads to take down those threats, as well as any anti-air-looking Ork contraptions.
The Orks worked themselves into a frenzy and shrugged off anything that wasn't a lethal wound. Six extremely large ones burst out of a ruined debris field and charged right at a Dreadnought. They somehow endured the incinerating heat and began denting and chipping the outer armor.
Kaedes rushed to aid but saw blue lightning streak out, avoiding the Dreadnought entirely but wracking the Orks with paralyzing energies. That was all the Dreadnought needed and soon had all six torn apart and then set on fire.
Impressive as ever, Derrick Frenne.
The blond Librarian had been trained alongside Kaedes and those from Deliverance on Terra. His hair and shorter stature marked him as one of the two hundred who had been given Lady Corax's altered gene-seed. Kaedes didn't know what the Imperium believed. Was the shorter stature worth the fact that Psyker talent to the level of Librarian was four times as common within that group compared to the rest of the Legion?
He didn't know and didn't care. He was just glad that he was not a Psyker. How dreadfully boring would it be if killing were that easy?
***
Lieutenant Branne Nev could only watch in awe as The Penumbra came upon wings of death onto the Xenos. Their Jump Packs barely slowed their descent as their Bolters laid down punishing fire. Moments before they crashed down, their Jump Packs went full throttle and slowed their final plunge. Even so, many landed only to immediately roll. Those that did brought out their chosen close-quarters weaponry.
The insect-like Xenos were intelligent; they had industry and a sort of society. Branne had reviewed the information before descending. The Xenos were roughly the size of a normal human but chitinous, with too many limbs. They wielded short-range ballistic weaponry attached to their forelimbs. They were physically stronger than things their size had any right to be, and their bites could crush through ceramite.
The world itself had vast reserves of resources that the Imperium wanted. Orbital bombardment had been tried and was semi-successful, but the creatures had hundreds of kilometers of tunnels. The planet wasn't suited for killing, as it resided in the habitable zone, so they had to do it the hard way.
The Penumbra were the elites of the Raven Guard; each was chosen for their skill that outstripped their peers. Branne felt that one day he could match them, but Lady Corax had other plans. She was grooming him for captaincy and later to lead an entire Chapter. It was a tremendous responsibility, and he wouldn't let her down.
The Penumbra were mighty and moved with an economy of motion in their slaying that was a sight to see. But as fluid, graceful, and indomitable as they were, they paled compared to the Primarch herself.
A sweep of her Power Lance slew a dozen while her lasgun fired unceasingly and unerringly. This would already bring her kill count higher than that of any three elite Space Marines, but that wasn't where it stopped. Without gesture or motion, many of the bugs died. Streaks of fire spread here and there, sometimes leaping from Xenos to Xenos, but never harming a single Astartes.
"Advance!" Branne called out, and the five squads under his command moved forward. The enemies of humanity did not flee in sheer panic like mortal opponents did; instead, they broke away in one swift wave.
Just as Tanya… Lady Corax predicted.
The fight went into the tunnels that had previously been infiltrated and were lined with explosives. As the bulk of the enemy force sought safety, they found only explosive death. The remnant did not wail, attempt to surrender, or do anything normal. Instead, they coldly charged at the Astartes and died upon their guns.
Captain Klytor complimented him afterward. "Disciplined fire line. The timing of your charge was accurate to the second. Well done."
Drenos Klytor was obviously different from other Raven Guard. He wasn't originally Raven Guard, but that was never mentioned aloud unless in Astartes-only company. It wasn't just his appearance, but also the way he spoke. It was subtle in a sense, Imperial Auxilia would likely not know the difference, but for the Raven Guard, an officer like him was just different.
Branne had no complaints. The man was skilled, a workhorse. He knew every last thing about every piece of gear they used and was unflappable in battle. Drenos was straightforward, direct, and you always knew what to expect from him.
Battles against Xenos were generally uncomplicated affairs, and therefore his preference. Killing other humans was something he was more than willing to do, but it always seemed a tragedy when he did not know each individual was a piece of filth, like with the overseers and their guards during the revolt on Deliverance. If the foolish rulers of the human enclaves would surrender, then the same people he was killing would now be of the Imperium and entitled to his protection. It was hard to wrap his head around such swings, where one was a foe to be slaughtered and then a friend to be protected.
He did his duty, which went without saying, but he surely had a preference. Lady Corax did not mind the offering of opinion. In fact, she even had Astartes fill out questionnaires on their likes and dislikes in terms of duty assignments. He wasn't in command of a Chapter yet, so he did not know what she did with that data, but logically she would use it to assign different companies to different Compliance campaigns. Where possible.
It would likely be a few more weeks before the last nest, warren, and hive of these creatures were torn asunder. From there, millions upon millions of colonists would arrive and begin the creation of habitations, agricultural seeding, and nascent industrial zones.
As was his habit, he checked in on his brother, Agapito.
"Branne, I see you made it through another battle." Agapito's smile split his gruff face. The gene-seed had affected them a bit differently – Branne's was now narrower than Agapito's, whose features had a scrunched and widened look to them.
"If you could survive leading the First of Kiavahr, how could I do anything different leading the Astartes?"
Agapito punched the pauldron of his battle-plate. "They are more like we were on Deliverance than what we are now. Save for their officers, they don't wear Power Armor. They suffered under the Tech-Guilds just as we did." He frowned. "Perhaps not to the same extent, but suffer they did."
Branne tilted his head slightly. "Your humors are unbalanced. Did one of our comrades say something again?"
His brother looked away. "Some view the task as beneath us, but they are wrong. The First is nearing the quality of the Solar Auxilia even if they weren't being led by Astartes. With us at their head, they are a fine fighting force. The Tauros Rapid Assault Vehicles can keep up with Astartes on foot and provide considerable punch. Not to mention, having Griffon Mortar Carriers used by mortals is a more efficient usage of our manpower."
Branne chuckled. "Come, brother. You don't need to convince me. Lady Corax sees the value herself. The First has already won enough battle honors that we now have eight other regiments from Kiavahr joining the Expedition Fleets."
The inclusion of what would nominally have been planetary garrisons into the 27th was a controversial one. The Therion Cohort felt slighted. Some of the Astartes, particularly those born on Terra, disliked the idea of Astartes leading regular humans. They felt the Legions should remain distinct. Then, of course, there were those from Deliverance who still misliked those born upon the world that had enslaved their home.
Those complaints were mere whispers, Agapito more sensitive given his command position over one of the armored battalions that made up a significantly potent portion of the 100,000-strong regiment. Their Primarch had conquered world after world with diplomacy or the sword, so there was little room to find fault. She also had an 'open-door' policy that, when time permitted, welcomed any thought challenging the wisdom of a decision to engage in discourse with her on the matter. In some cases, particularly bold individuals had taken her up on the offer and ended up being the fiercest proponents of those units!
Day of battle, his brother alive, victory on the field, and now some respite before being called to the front again. Who could ask for more?
***
It was now the 7th year since the start of my first ten-year term. I had smashed many of the goals that Malcador and the Emperor had set before me. I credited the greater part of my success to my ability to avoid costly Compliance campaigns when diplomacy, occasionally the gunboat kind, worked so well.
Based on the archives of prior Campaigns, my brother Primarchs often seemed irrationally incensed when worlds didn't immediately fall to their knees and join the Imperium. Horus, Rogal, Guilliman, Sanguinius, and Vulkan seemed to excel at it, but the likes of Angron, Mortarion, and Russ were ruthless, which cost them time and resources. On the opposite end of the spectrum, Lorgar of the Word Bearers took too slow an approach, rarely presenting the stick.
My usage of my Primarch 'aura,' for lack of a better term, also paid dividends when obtaining Compliance. For those that continued to resist despite overwhelming force, the use of surgical assassinations preserved munitions, lives, and the industry I sought to obtain when folding a planet into my fiefdom.
Xenos were a bit more difficult, but even there my chosen approach seemed to be effective. Perhaps it was desire to blood new recruits, or perhaps the intent was to field-test new toys. I would not know until I asked my brothers, but too many desired to defeat different Xenos species face-to-face. I'd sooner just annihilate the majority through bombardment. Unless the Mechanicum had actionable and reasonable belief that STC templates existed on those worlds, I was quick to use my lance batteries to sear away opposition rather than fight costly battles.
In the seven years of war, my Raven Guard had become a smooth, efficient machine. Commanders given splinter fleets knew what I expected and carried out their Compliance campaigns against human settlements the way I would, and against Xenos, carried out the same tactics. For them, I urged caution; I stressed that retreat and preservation of forces were their priorities. Extensively challenging issues I could personally attend to.
Even so, derailing some of the inbuilt courage and natural battle-maniac tendencies was easier said than done. On more than one occasion, one of my Commanders leading a Chapter had suffered heavy losses. Fortunately, no Battle Barges were lost, but I mourned the three Strike Cruisers and seven escort craft that were destroyed. The way these vessels were designed meant significant loss of life.
Sixty thousand-plus crew for a Strike Cruiser is insane. Automate!
Therein lay one of the biggest problems with how the Imperium operated. Necessity was the mother of invention, but given the obscene population of Terra, numbering in the hundreds of billions, and the population of Hive Cities in the human diaspora, there was rarely much necessity when you could fix a problem by just throwing more bodies at it. Oftentimes, simple servitors or press-ganged humans would be used to operate military vessels. It was an affront to the very notion of liberty.
Diago Malov had 'graduated' his first batch of thirty Forgemarines, and they in turn would be developing additional Astartes. Each Forgemarine did not have their own retinue, as some were primarily purposed just for maintenance and repairs of existing equipment. The rest were divided into three major research branches.
The first was industrial improvement: the development of technologies that improved the efficiency of creating more stuff – be that fabricated weapons, ships, Astartes equipment, luxuries, agricultural tech, and more. Having my worlds work more efficiently, especially since I wasn't going to tolerate servitors, was a must.
The reality so far is that scientific progress was slow, and without user servitors, I was behind the curve in industrializing worlds that had regressed during the Long Night. I accepted that but hoped that through the relentless pursuit of scientific knowledge I could bend the cost curve and begin to be more efficient. Time would tell.
I know greater technological feats and processes exist; we have shattered records of far more efficient systems than we have now from the Dark Age of Technology.
The second focus was decreasing the crew size of my Astartes vessels. I wanted automation for loading armaments instead of squads of servitors. These weren't anything close to Abominable Intelligences, just simple assembly-line processes. Reducing the need for a vast crew allowed me to either open more facilities for a larger contingent of Astartes or planetary garrison regiments led by them, or modify the design for thicker armor and more weaponry.
Perturabo had been instrumental in helping build up the Kiavahr shipyards. It would likely be at least another decade before they could begin producing the largest of vessels, but Strike Cruisers would soon be possible. I didn't intend to waste resources on creating inferior and inefficient vessels. It wasn't just about the number of bodies, but what those bodies represented: food, life support systems, living quarters. There was no reason we needed sixty thousand souls to operate a lone Strike Cruiser!
The third research group was the one focusing on creating new toys for war. The Psyker weapon array was one such research project reaching the field-testing stage, and I was rather excited to see how much more effective my Librarians would be with them.
My own capabilities had steadily advanced. I still grew unnaturally fatigued with prolonged use of my Psyker abilities, but my 'stamina' for it had incrementally increased over time. I was pleased with the progress, and my increased duration allowed me to sway localized battles extensively. Explosions were similar, and the right formulae allowed for mass-casualty castings against lightly armored foes.
Nasturi broke me away from my musings as she brought in a cup of caf.
"Thank you. How did it go with Amon?"
Her features flickered into a petulant scowl that would have looked more adorable without the cybernetics covering the left side of her face.
"He bested me, but it was closer this time."
I had told Nasturi that she wouldn't be allowed to participate in combat until she could best Amon Tauromachian in a spar. The fact that she could even come close told me much about her drive and the wonders of Imperium science. Her upgrades were expensive but highly worth it in my estimation.
Some of her upgrades were obvious, such as the metallic bits on her face and her cybernetic ocular lens that had replaced her left eye. Many more were not. Her entire skeletal system was now laced with carbon-nanotube composites. Her bones would resist fracture far beyond those of even a powerfully built human. Her hyper-enhanced muscular system was still primarily biological, but there were strands of near nano-sized micro-actuators at large muscular intersections.
The Cortex Implants mimicked what my Primarch brain could do in terms of multitasking. Well, a very, very pale imitation. Still, the benefit of being able to parallel and distinct thought processes allowed for significantly improved learning speed and the ability to properly use MIUs, Mind Impulse Units, to allow her to mentally control a fully synthetic device. We had experimented with weaponry, but also in a customized gravity-engine-equipped free-floating Power Sword that she could control mentally while using a secondary weapon in her hand.
Along with Neuro-Cortex enhancements, she also had synaptic accelerators bringing her reflexes up to par with an Astartes, perhaps a bit better. Pain suppression and adrenaline regulators were paired with improved liver performance to neutralize toxins, and her blood was replaced with a gene-engineered superior compound that allowed for quick clotting and hyper-oxygenation. She was immune to most poisons and could survive without any oxygen for upwards of six hours.
Her customized Power Armor, which she didn't use in her duel with Amon, had been designed by Malov and me personally. It had a powerful Conversion Field, sometimes known as a Power Field, that was just as effective as Terminator Armor Refractor shielding. While not a guarantee due to the complexities of battlefield conditions and the technology, it could theoretically stand up to a point-blank lascannon hit before being overloaded.
It was a sleek design that copied some of the tech we theorized was included in The Sable Armor. When activated, it could create an absolutely soundless field within a meter of itself and be invisible to most auspex sweeps, hiding her from thermal and other scans. Miniature rockets on the back of the legs allowed for a limited amount of flight time but could also assist in her ability to charge quickly horizontally or to escape.
The Power Armor itself had some weapon arrays built into the wrists that she could also use her Cortex Implants to control while swinging a Power Weapon. In short, she had been given the best of the best that I was capable of furnishing. She was more than capable of defeating an Astartes in combat, but I wanted more; I wanted her to be at the level of an elite Custodian Guard.
I'm self-aware enough to know the difficulty of that challenge. It keeps her safe and off the battlefield for that much longer.
"Keep at it," I smiled at her, "and in the interim you can continue learning by my side. I personally think your talents lie in leadership of large formations of fleets or the planetary regiments I am raising. Eventually they will number in the tens of millions, and not all of those will be led by Astartes. I will need generals that I can trust."
"As you say, Lady Corax," Nasturi replied with a smirk.
I narrowed my eyes. "Don't be difficult."
"Sorry, Tanya. I just…" she trailed off. "I want to do more."
Battle maniacs, I am always cursed with battle maniacs. The only reason I even fight on the frontlines still is that I'm such a massive force multiplier. Otherwise, I'd be sitting back aboard my flagship, or even better yet, ruling over Kiavahr.
I glanced at the data stream on one of my terminals. "Ah, well, now that is interesting. The Astropaths just received a message. Within a month, the commander of the 13th Legion will be headed to Terra but wishes to detour and pay me a visit."
Nasturi's eyes grew wide. "Lord Roboute Guilliman? When?"
"Within the next month or two, depending on the Navigator's skill and the Warp. It is a pity we are saying goodbye to our friend Captain Anet. He will be sad to have missed meeting another Primarch."
***
Captain Ankhu Anent had greatly enjoyed his secondment. The Raven Guard was a fine Legion who valued surgical strikes and efficiency. As a member of the Corvidae Cult, he found that his skills meshed quite well. Directing the Moritat assassins to where he knew enemy commanders were proved to be a perfect example of synergy.
Tanya Corax had been a hospitable host, allowing him to sit in on strategy meetings, provide advice, and most of all, had taught him to always look below the surface. Even after half a decade, she still stayed firm in her stance that precognition didn't exist.
At least that is what she says!
Ankhu still waffled on what that truly meant. Was she challenging the idea that the future could be changed through recognition of events? Was she throwing down a gauntlet to him so that he could prove her incorrect? Was she teaching him a lesson in humility, so that he did not grow lax when he peered into the Great Ocean?
He didn't know. And perhaps that was the lesson. For Ankhu, he listened to every word she spoke. The Raven Guard specialized in the unseen blade, but the use of distractions and misdirection was also a part of stealth. From the simplest idea of making a sound to turn a guard's attention away to grandiose designs, Lady Corax taught her sons how to make use of all advantages.
Not all was ideal. His work with the Librarians was not always as productive as he wished. Only the more recent additions to the Librarius truly saw the potential of the Great Ocean and the unnecessary restraints put on the truly powerful Psykers by the ignorant. Yes, lesser minds, those Psykers with lesser talents, should be fearful and stay within the rigid confines of the teachings of the Librarius, but for the truly talented, it was unnecessary.
Librarian Derrick Frenne was one of the few who listened with an open mind. He was one of the shortest Space Marines in the Legions, but as a Librarian, he had raw talent that Ankhu wished he had more time to nurture. Not only was he powerful, he also had immense natural finesse in wielding the Great Ocean's currents. Ankhu was prideful, but he knew the likes of Magnus, Malcador, and Ahriman were beyond him. Given a century of practice and knowledge, Derrick would surpass Ankhu and rival Ahriman. He was certain of it.
The Thousand Sons' Captain had also developed a friendship with Commander Diago Malov. The two both enjoyed the pursuit of knowledge. Ankhu knew that Diago's pursuit was toward machinery, but the two had come to appreciate each other's inquisitive minds.
When the vessel had arrived, Lady Corax had called out the 1st Chapter and her Penumbra to honor him. She spoke words of friendship and praise for her brother Magnus for so richly honoring the Raven Guard with so fine a warrior and scholar as Captain Ankhu Anent. Over a thousand members of the Raven Guard saluted him and cheered him.
This was a fine Secondment. I doubt any of my brothers had so warm a reception.
And yet, there was more still.
Lady Corax grasped his arm. "Every word was true."
He smiled. This, of course, implied some of her earlier words at other times were not true. The depths of her aenigma and the way she puzzled him only delightfully deepened.
"I would not have you leave without some gifts."
He blinked in surprise. "You have already honored…"
She waved off his response. "No, your actions saved many of my Space Marines. It is fitting you receive something tangible for the priceless assistance you have provided."
Diago handed him a gilded Plasma Pistol.
"I helped craft this personally," Lady Corax stated. "It is far less temperamental than older Plasma weapon designs, but still packs a sizeable punch. The effective range has been extended by twenty percent due to using a stronger alloy. May it serve you well."
Ankhu took the weapon with reverence; a flash of future-sight saw him using it to slay a Xenos. Humbled by the gesture, he was unprepared for the next gift.
Two Astartes had a large boxlike terminal. "Here," Corax gestured, "is the sum knowledge of every piece of literature on Compliant worlds we have copied. The number of fictitious books, tall tales, historical accounts, and more are included. Preservation of knowledge is important, and having a copy of all we've gathered on Prospero will be a balm to my thoughts. We will not repeat the follies of the Long Night where so much knowledge was lost."
Ankhu's breath caught, unsure of what to say in the face of this. Save for the Emperor, beloved by all, and his gene-father Magnus, there was none who deserved prominence in his mind more than Lady Corax.
"As a final gift, and as a sign of our continued friendship, I give you this. It is a simple glass ball held in a stasis field." Ankhu took it, with some confusion, as he awaited the explanation. "I have used the same formula each day. Outside of stasis it would allow me to view and listen from afar for a short period of time. Like with all formulae I use, the effect dilutes over time. However, stasis fields preserve that energy in their time-halting zone. Given the repetitive process I did, the signal will be incredibly strong, no matter how far I am from it."
Ankhu instantly understood the ramifications.
"Wherever I am, by breaking the stasis field I can send a message to you instantly. Only the strongest of Warp Storms could possibly prevent it, and even then… this is a mighty gift."
She nodded. "Should there be some great turmoil, reach out to me. I cannot promise to come to your side swiftly, for my duties are great, but I may be able to send others on my behalf. Or, if I can be called away, I will."
He thanked her profusely, said goodbye to the 19th Legion, and turned his attentions toward home. He could not wait to share what he had learned with his father. He could not wait to speak of the greatness of the Raven Guard to the rest of his Legion. Ankhu felt in his bones they had found another powerful ally to aid them against the hatred of ignorance. The Raven Guard would join the Blood Angels and White Scars as true friends to the Thousand Sons.
Chapter 12Chapter Text
Chapter 12
01010011 01101000 01100101 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01100001 00100000 01110100 01101000 01110010 01100101 01100001 01110100
-Fabricator-General Kelbor-Hal
Nasturi was at Tanya's side as she welcomed Guilliman. The Raven Guard had come out in a display of honor. Thousands upon thousands of Raven Guard stood in orderly formations. Behind the thousands of Astartes came the vast numbers of the Imperial Army and soldiers of Kiavahr.
Wouldn't it have made more sense to put the shorter people in front and the Astartes behind them? Those poor people can't even see anything!
Nasturi had grown used to being in the presence of Tanya, but seeing another Primarch in the flesh took even her enhanced breath away. Guilliman was a giant amongst giants. He was a figure of pure majesty. His armor gleamed with the blue of Ultramar, edged in gold, resplendent in glory. His face was noble and proud, and his eyes gleamed with intelligence. With every sweep of his gaze, Nasturi knew he had memorized every facet of the people in front of him.
Laurels set in green framed his head. He wore his armor, save for his helmet, revealing the blond hair that was not quite the same shade as Tanya's. Every step was sure, precise, and perfectly balanced. Guilliman was at ease, but in the event of an attack he would never be caught surprised. Nasturi blinked away the dazzlement as she caught Tanay's sidelong glance of amusement.
Not allowing a natural flush to appear on her cheeks, Nasturi regained her composure.
The Raven Guard greeted him with a precise salute and in unison repeated his name and that of the Ultramarines. Precisely one minute passed and then utter silence reigned. Tanya stepped forward, quite a bit shorter than her brother, and spoke to him in a more normal voice that was not allowed to carry.
"Welcome, brother. I am quite pleased that you detoured to visit us."
"My thanks, sister. My Legion was ahead of schedule and I could not let the opportunity pass. You are singular amongst us, both you and your realm."
Tanya laughed lightly. "Is it so different from Ultramar? We will speak of it later, for I do have questions for you on the management of your realm as well. For now let me introduce you to…"
Nasturi waited patiently as Amon Tauromachian, Praetorate Fal, Commander Mordek, Commander Malov, and Chief Librarian Bronov were introduced. She sensed a slight hardening of the eyes when he looked at Amon, a friendly nod of greeting to Arkhas Fal, and an acknowledgement to all the others.
"And this is my personal assistant, Nasturi Ephrenia."
"A pleasure to meet you, Lord Guilliman. Your reputation precedes you."
He graced her with a slight smile and Nasturi was once again forced to override her body's natural instincts to avoid embarrassing herself or Tanya. The attention of a Primarch was a heady thing. She vaguely heard the names of Guilliman's companions, but caught Marius Gage, a Chapter Master, and Eikos Lamiad, a Tetrarch.
"How long will you be staying with us?" Tanya asked.
"A Terran week, I had hoped for longer, but word reached the Sigillite that I had wrapped up my latest Compliance campaign early and he has moved up the schedule."
Tanya nodded. "The Emperor and three Legions are still dealing with the threat of the Silica Animus?"
"Yes, though from the way Luna Wolves make it sound, the backs of the enemy will soon be broken. Few can long withstand the Master of Mankind, so I suspect they are correct."
They talked as they walked toward Tanya's quarters. Soon all were dismissed and Nasturi left. Guilliman's honor guard insisted on being posted near the entrance way, which had Fal then insisting his own guards join them.
Nasturi rolled her eyes. Fal could get so overzealous and competitive with other Legions. She suspected he felt it was his task to preserve the honor of the Raven Guard, it likely came from a place of purpose, but she knew Tanya found his perspective wearisome at times.
She won't replace him though. Not unless he screws up massively, she wants to ensure the, esprit de corps as she calls it remains strong between the Terran, Deliverance, and other world's Raven Guard recruits. It isn't as if he is incompetent either, he has adapted to Tanya's leadership in almost all other areas. Still, he could stand to remove the stick from his...
***
Roboute Guilliman was a loyal son to the Emperor. He believed in the Great Crusade. He venerated the Imperial Truth. In all things, Roboute served Him. The latest found Primarch was an extreme outlier, and it was beginning to cause him to question some of what he had heard.
Theoretical: Presence of Custodian Guard is an honor. Unlikely, as they were with her when she rejoined her Legion. Conclusion: False.
Theoretical: Presence of Custodian Guard is necessary to protect her due to her smaller stature and diminished abilities. Horus has said she was well above the greatest Astartes but weaker than her brothers. Conclusion: Possible. Evidence to the contrary: her Legion's superior performance.
Theoretical: Presence of Custodian Guard is meant to ensure her loyalty. Conclusion: Possible. Evidence to the contrary: being given a Legion is a sign of trust.
Tales of Tanya Corax had taken the Imperium by storm. A female Primarch? Why did the Emperor create one? The general citizenry would never be allowed to know that she was altered by the Warp prior to being found. Such knowledge would do far more harm than good.
Amongst his brothers, there was surprise at the Emperor allowing her to create a realm within a realm. It had made sense for Ultramar to continue smoothly running as it had, but why allow Tanya to do so? Rogal had openly wondered why she would want to be bogged down with administration when it would distract her from driving the Crusade forward.
Then there was the separation from the Mechanicum. They were allowed to inspect her worlds for signs of forbidden technology but were kept at arm's length. The Collegia Titanica had stated they would not assist her Legion in its Compliance campaigns – something that had Russ gnashing his teeth at the audacity of any part of the Imperium withholding support.
On the other hand, he could not find any fault in how she pursued her tasks. She was as effective as Horus in winning worlds without firing a shot. Her battle honors were already being racked up with impressive speed. The re-adherence to the Principia Belicosa was laudable. Guilliman had even told his sons that what she had done to her Legion was an example of perfection in action.
No worlds she had taken had proven overly resistant to the Imperial Truth, and none were in rebellion, though given their recent conquest and the short timeframe since joining the Imperium, that wasn't unexpected.
The welcome was well put together and showcased the discipline of the 19th Legion. Tanya was an effective statesman and commander, that much was clear. She was half a meter shorter than him, but she gave off the same coiled energy as his brother Primarchs. Her smiles were as genuine as the Angel's or Vulkan's.
They began with learning more about each other and how their recent Compliance campaigns had gone. After a brief feeling-out, Guilliman drove forward with his questions.
"I must ask, sister, why the desire for your own little kingdom within the Imperium?"
If she took offense to the question, it was well hidden.
"The Imperium seeks to unify all of humanity and protect it from the terrors of Old Night. This is laudable. However, after studying how many worlds were managed, I found them lacking. The Emperor is focused on the Crusade; he does not have time to debate with me on how societies should be structured. Perhaps, in the future, once the Crusade has been completed, we can do so at our leisure. In the meantime, theory can only grow so far – praxis is where real examples can be made and argumentation can be done with empiricism."
Guilliman nodded along, her phrasing appealing to him.
"What elements do you find lacking?" he asked with genuine curiosity.
"The use of servitors. It is a form of slavery that is an affront to the basic dignity and free will of mankind. Lobotomized slaves forced to labor in deplorable conditions without the ability to speak up for themselves? It is an evil."
He pursed his lips. "The Emperor's vision requires sacrifice. The union He made with Mars was necessary."
She nodded easily. "I don't necessarily disagree, nor do I propose we go to war with the Mechanicum over the use of servitors… at this time. It isn't as if servitors are only used by the Mechanicum, either."
A disquiet was stirring in him. What she was hinting at was dangerous. All their technology flowed through the Mechanicum.
Theoretical: She wishes for the Emperor to ban the use of servitors and put Mars in check, and for the Treaty of Olympia Mons to be done away with. She wishes to create her own Imperium in miniature without their aid. If successful, it will demonstrate to Him that the Mechanicum is not needed.
He weighed the idea from all angles. The cost of lives would be enormous if there were a schism, and if it occurred prior to the Orks and other Xenos being eradicated from the galaxy, it could plunge mankind back into an Age of Strife.
As he quietly considered the many ramifications, she filled the silence.
"I also dislike the strictness of how worlds are managed. There is little wiggle room for people to make their own choices. We cripple our people intellectually; we prevent innovation when we centralize all authority and develop top-down economies."
His eyebrows rose. "Interesting. Ultramar has a vocal minority who believe allowing the mercantile class more freedom could be a benefit. I remain unconvinced."
She leaned forward. "Allowing people agency propels them to try new things, new ways of doing things. When they can profit from their achievements, they will be apt to make the attempt."
Guilliman shook his head. "A hierarchical government-controlled industry can do the same. It can reward those who find a better way of doing things and place them at the top of the vertical. More, it can assess if it was blind luck or if it was truly due to the individual's merits."
She tapped her fingers on the arm of her seat. "This assumes leaders selected in oversight don't favor their friends over new faces. When people have a choice in what product to select, what company to work for, and how they go about things, it eliminates centralized corruption."
"That is why the Imperium must be vigilant and inspect planetary governments carefully. In the Five Hundred Worlds, there are large numbers of auditors, and the people can petition a higher authority, all the way up to me, if necessary, if they believe someone is misusing their position."
She shrugged. "That becomes impractical. It would be far better to allow people themselves to choose how they go about doing things. I admit there need be constraints, especially with the necessity of resources being used by the Great Crusade, but I remain convinced that giving people more, not less liberty, creates greater outcomes, outcomes that they themselves choose."
Guilliman disagreed. His sister spoke of freeing people from the bonds of strict rule, law, and management. People were regularly stupid. The Old Night proved that humanity could only be trusted to a point. It needed rulers like the Emperor to guide them. Old, broken forms of government like republics, democracies, technocracies, and theocracies were inefficient compared to the perfection of rule by Him.
"I will admit that it is a matter of degree. If we require a laborer to perform 70 hours of work in a Terran week, I can see the benefit of allowing them to choose when to work it if it is fungible. But to not produce at all, or to produce what is unneeded, should not be allowed."
"What is needed, beyond the needs of the Crusade of course?" Tanya asked rhetorically, growing more animated in her passion for the subject.
"Some crave finer sustenance, others grander halls, while many seek tools to capture their triumphs. How do we weigh such desires? The answer lies in the choices of individuals, each voice shaping the worth of things through shared will. In their decisions, freely made, we find a balance that no single mind could dictate, forging a path to equilibrium through the independent desires of the many."
Guilliman shifted in his seat as he considered.
"Again, a matter of degrees. The pay a worker receives can be used as he wills."
She stood and began to pace. "I've studied your worlds, Roboute. Your system works, to a degree, but only because of the vast riches they have. What is created is strictly managed. Yes, a laborer, an engineer, an archivist may spend his excess, but what is produced and what is available is strictly monitored by those world governments. It is like an employer dictating what an employee may eat and giving them several choices; that is not true freedom."
"What are you suggesting? That we just let people decide what is produced? I respect my people, but they are below us in their vision. They will not build for the burdens that we will face decades from now. They will not prepare for a Warp Storm that may cut off lines of supply and trade for decades, if not centuries."
"As you said," she revealed her palm in a gesture, "it is a matter of degrees. I do intend to mandate worlds under my control produce the tools and weapons I need to continue to succeed. However, I do intend to allow the people to operate as they see fit, obeying the laws I make against servitors and, of course, the Imperium's mandates on the use of Silica Animus and the teachings of the Imperial Truth. Tell me, brother, if my worlds end up being run better than yours, will you consider my ways?"
Guilliman let out a chuckle; an effort was made to ensure it did not come across as snide. Tanya was a great proponent of her view, but there was very little likelihood that she would succeed. His worlds were models of efficiency. The people were secure, they were happy, and they did not resent the yoke he had put on them.
"Additional data is always welcome." He paused, considering his words in light of his prior ponderings of why she had a Custodian Guard contingent. "The beliefs you hold have some value, but not in the age of Primarchs and the Emperor. Mortals would be rife for corruption; the ability to anticipate the needs of a people would be beyond regular humans. A pricing mechanic for goods and services that you allude to, based not on the objective value of a thing but on collective views of individual desires, would make sense in past eras. But in the past, we did not have Him. We did not have the Emperor, beloved by all."
She paused, went to speak, then stilled. "You know, he created us, yes? He delegates. There are limits to his wisdom and his ability to understand the needs of people far below his stature. Have you not thought his ways inscrutable at times?"
Guilliman narrowed his gaze. "At times."
"And have not the Astartes sometimes looked upon your designs and evidenced confusion?"
"Of course." Guilliman already knew where she was going but was polite enough to allow her to continue the point.
"And our Imperial Army officers, have they not understood what our Astartes commanders were doing with some of our unique tactics?"
"Yes."
"And regular soldiers, do they not sometimes question the plans of their officers?"
"I take your meaning."
Something was bothering Guilliman, and as he replayed the conversation in his mind while they continued to converse, he came upon it. It was the way she spoke of Him, of the Emperor. There was not a single shred of reverence. Some respect, yes, but when any person of the Imperium spoke of Him, there was a quintessential way of speaking of him that evidenced the awe and grandeur of the Master of Mankind. And Tanya Corax displayed none of it.
Now I begin to understand the reason for the Custodian Guard. She is persuasive; given enough time and enough discourse like this, I could see even my own sons being convinced of her perspective. He would see the need to have completely objective observers, and those could only be another Primarch, perhaps someone like Malcador or one of the Ten Thousand.
"I do not believe that he can adequately predict what drives a regular human. As power and intellect increase, so too reverses the ability to put oneself in a lessor's shoes," Tanya concluded firmly.
It was an interesting argument, and the two discussed it for some time before moving to less contentious subjects. Tanya was interested in how some of the tactics his Ultramarines used and the times when he faced difficulty. She was curious about how different environs required changes in tactics and how he overcame certain Xenos technologies.
Guilliman found himself liking her, and he hoped that the Emperor's Executioners, the Wolves of Fenris, wouldn't have to be called upon again.
***
My conversations with Roboute went well. At one point, I think I made him sad when I said his own mini-empire wasn't ruled as well as it could be, but he persevered, and I learned a lot about his thinking. A very well-ordered mind, and someone I knew I could trust. I had hopes of one day converting him to free market capitalism, but it would take some time.
His worlds are efficient; I'll give him that.
When it was time for him to leave for Terra, I gave him the blade in the stasis field and warned him of the dangers of a potentially Psyker-active Abominable Intelligence. Alternatively, it was some Xenos artifact that I didn't understand, but either way, Malcador and the Emperor could figure it out.
Before he left, we also dueled a few times, and he bested me soundly, but he had to work for it. I didn't use any of my Psyker ability, as standard dueling rules forbade it, but I wondered how it would have turned out had I used it. The Primarchs were an odd disruption to my sixth sense when it came to the Warp. This was probably a good thing for me as well, since I wouldn't want to learn that some technologically primitive but powerful Psyker Xenos had crushed one of my brothers' skulls in like an aluminum can.
We were resistant to the effects of Psykers, but to what degree was difficult to say. If I ever had to face my brothers in a real fight, I would use my abilities in less direct attacks. I didn't think I'd have to, but the stories of the wildness of Angron and Russ gave me a bit of pause. They sounded quite like berserkers, even if Roboute had told me that Leman was in control of himself. I couldn't help but note that while Leman was in control of himself, he made no such claim for Angron.
It was time to continue bringing worlds into Compliance. My Destroyers with Reflex Shielding were now mapping systems quite easily, as even advanced societies were not able to detect them. There was a particularly interesting squid-like species that seemed open to negotiation. Their race was technologically advanced but resided solely underwater. They had never bothered with travel to the stars, as they had all they desired on their planet.
As a Primarch, it was up to me to determine if Xenos represented a threat to humanity. This was done for a few reasons. Some Xenos were not any different from Terran animals. Xenos that weren't intelligent weren't a threat – well, typically. Almost every other type of Xenos was, but there had been exceptions, and I was empowered to make that decision with some guidelines.
With their nature of being literally underwater and not using spaceflight, I thought I had a good case. I also wanted to see how their technology had advanced, given the completely different environs they lived in.
Thoughts about tentacled Xenos aside, I realized that I would easily surpass all the goals that had been set for me. As I thought back to my discussion with Roboute, I realized I may have been taken for a ride in my negotiations.
The first tier was just to prove that I could operate effectively; it allowed me to continue to maintain my worlds being ruled by me. Along with that, I would be receiving a very large supply of resources that would mirror what newly taken worlds with promise often received from the Imperium and the Mechanicum: raw materials, new citizens from Terra and other worlds in the Solar Segmentum, and equipment to help industrialize worlds.
Along with that, my Legion was to be given 15,000 suits of Mark IV Power Armor, 300 suits of Terminator Armor, a score of Dreadnought frames, and a large supply of various tanks, fighters, transports, and weaponry. A shiny new Fell Blade rounded out the planetary equipment. It was also stipulated that I would receive a new Battle Barge, two Strike Cruisers, and half a dozen escort vessels.
Since I had done well, I would be getting more. Along with a thirty percent increase in useful supplies to help modernize taken worlds, I would be getting more gear for making war: another 200 suits of Terminator Armor, another 10 Dreadnoughts, two Falchion Super-Heavy Tank Destroyers, and a number of artillery pieces I quite liked. For void battles, I was given another two Strike Cruisers and another Battle Barge, if it was ready. I had told Malcador that I would accept an Emperor-class Battleship in its place if it was not.
I had non-Astartes troops to move that weren't tied to the Imperial Army, after all. However, as I thought about all this, I realized that the Primarchs didn't worry about their own resupply all that much between Compliance campaigns. During them, yes, of course. But afterwards, the Imperium would ensure they had the equipment needed.
Feeling a bit miffed, I concluded that the careful husbanding of my resources would not increase the power of my Legion by a significant degree.
It all depends on what I can obtain as my bonus for achieving every single one of my stretch goals, which I am more than on track to do.
That had been an open-ended request I could make. It wasn't a guarantee it would be accepted, but my initial agreement with the Emperor seemed as if he was game, since I sensed he didn't think I would have this much success. No doubt the goals would be significantly harder in my next ten-year stint.
Instead of asking for one thing, I would ask for several. The first was that I wanted auramite: some to study and enough to equip some of my elites, and Nasturi, with. The Emperor had reserved it for his Custodian Guard, but he can make exceptions. It isn't as if I needed to announce that I had gotten special dispensation for it. I could always make it look like regular Power Armor or Terminator Armor.
The second thing I would ask for was a second Gloriana-class Battleship. The 20th Legion had two, and we hadn't even found their Primarch yet. The 7th Legion also had two, along with the Phalanx. This request was also a two-parter. I had learned that Jaghatai Khan of the 5th Legion had been allowed to customize his Gloriana-class Battleship, and I wanted similar rights. It would be some time before the Kiavahr shipyards were complete or able to construct such a vessel, so it would be nice to have a second super-weapon that could dominate whole systems on its own.
The third thing I would attempt to gain was permission to run my own non-Astartes Psyker recruitment. Currently, the Black Ships scour the Imperium for natural Psykers and bring them to Terra. There, they are trained to be Astropaths. The ever-expanding domain of the Imperium requires ever-increasing numbers of Astropaths to keep lines of communication open.
It seemed inefficient to me, and I also really disliked how many of them failed to send clear messages across the Warp. With my ever-increasing number of Raven-class Destroyers, securing a large number of Astropaths would be critical. It shouldn't be that hard, but perhaps I was missing something in the process. I also had ideas of seeing whether individuals with strong natural Psyker gifts would accept my gene-seed and become even more proficient and powerful Librarians.
It remained to be seen what I would be allowed, but I hoped I would get at least one of those things. If not, I would make it clear in the negotiations for my next ten-year term that I was unhappy and would need something in place. Ultimately, I could bark, but I had no bite. The Emperor and his Imperium could crush me like a bug at any point, but my rapid progress must mean something. I remained confident he would want me to continue as I am, as an effective general and one who helps achieve his goals of a united humanity.