Chapter 3
I was the first to strike a bargain with Tanya Corax, later known as the Primarch of the Raven Guard. At the time, I could see the writing on the wall – they had our atomics. As Guild Master of my city, I had no desire to see them rained down upon my head. I saw advantage in being the first, so I took it. All the while, I remained mindful of opportunities to reassert the rightful rulership of Kiavahr.
At first.
I changed my mind after a conversation with a fellow Guild Master who had been trying to dissuade me from my course. He urged me to smuggle in kill-teams along with my shipments to the moon to retake our holdings. I told him no. I was in my office, my well-defended fortress, guarded by the best augers, bodyguards, and security money could buy.
I finished the conversation and cut the connection, and Tanya Corax thanked me for staying true to our agreement. I nearly died of shock. The damned woman was well over two meters tall and built like a sleek Ogryn – not some sneaky rat, but someone you could not possibly miss in a crowd. And yet somehow, she had been in my office the entire time, and I never even knew it.
As I sat in stunned silence, she told me of the coming of the Imperium. At that point, I would have sold my entire family into slavery rather than offend the giant woman who made my security look pointless. As opposition to the 'Compliance' of our world disappeared one by one, it became all the more important to obey every last command Corax issued.
-Guild Master Kelvin Vorn
In the end, I only had to use a single nuclear device. That, some deal-making, and a few assassinations ended the resistance to my rule of the system within a fortnight. From there, things grew more complicated. I had made agreements with the Tech-Guilds, promising them positions in the new order. They would retain some of their influence, a portion of their wealth, and titles. I kept some of the competent ones doing practical and useful work – or, well, overseeing it – but I quickly put in place my own people: either freed slaves and dissidents, or lower-ranking individuals who understood how the manufacturing in the factories worked.
I was given large amounts of technical schematics from the Emperor and intended to make many changes to what Kiavahr produced and how it did so. I planned to utilize additional technology and largess from the Imperium to provide food security, shelter, and luxuries even to the poorest. I was also going to expand the military to a great degree in preparation for my role in the Great Crusade.
I had been given zettabytes of information about the Imperium – everything from technology, the history of the Unification Wars, the military campaigns of the Great Crusade, the Expeditionary Fleets, the workings of Warp travel, important players in the governments, and details on economic output and dependencies, to the histories of Mars, Saturn, and Luna. Even with my immense mental faculties, I had yet to fully digest it all, so I focused on areas of immediate need after gaining a bird's-eye view of the situation.
The Mechanicum would be sending their Tech-Priests and had originally been slated to handle the administration of this Forge World to be, or at least its manufacturing and industrial base. To put it bluntly, I did not like the Mechanicum. I knew of the treaty the Emperor had with them, and it was one of convenience, as it directly contradicted the Imperial Truth that the rest of the Imperium had to follow.
Hypocrisy aside, the idea that these 'scientists' thought you had to pray to get technology to work offended me. Now, in some sense, what they did was useful. Their rites and rituals included diagnostic checks and sound technical practices within them. Some machines had something to them, bits of code that seemed similar to what some would call AI, but not the 'bad' kind. Rather confusing all together trying to pick apart where a 'Machine Spirit' and 'Artificial Intelligence' were different.
Ultimately, though, everything came down to binary. All processes were endless on/off configurations at the core of any technological program. From the most complex war machines, such as Titans, to a simple bolter, technology functioned through predictable physical interactions – not the absolute nonsense they preached.
That said, their basic schematics and processes, sans the religiosity, did work and often functioned at a higher level than even the Tech-Guilds could manage. I intended to learn all I could, as the Mechanicum was coming to my world regardless. First, to ensure that no forbidden technology was in use on the planet. Second, to determine if there were any STCs to be found. Third, to conduct a survey to assess the appropriate tithe level to the Imperium. And fourth, they intended to improve the world's technological base. That final goal relied on the assumption that they would take control of the new Forge World, at least where the industrial base was concerned. That was something I had no intention of allowing.
The Tech-Guilds' industry had to be upended to produce what I would need for my Legion. The entire point of negotiating with the Emperor had been to control my own logistics. The Legiones Astartes required many things to function. Bolters, power armor, chainswords, jump packs, and other equipment could begin being manufactured easily enough, as could the medical facilities needed for gene-seed implantation. The existing tanks, crude walkers, and transport vessels could be upgraded to match the designs of the Imperium, though that would take some time.
And the best toys are out of reach for now.
However, if I wanted to meet the ambitious targets the Emperor had set for me, and maximize what I was being given while continuing to act with the desired autonomy, I needed an edge. In reviewing the history of the Nineteenth Legion, I saw that it was exceptionally adept at stealth operations. It was eerie how closely this mirrored the regular missions I had undertaken during my second life, when my battalion would carry out headhunter operations.
Here was an opportunity to modify the existing Thunderhawk. The Thunderhawk served primarily as a troop transport for Space Marines. It could be launched from larger ships in space and operate both in the void and within planetary atmospheres. Within most atmospheres, it could reach speeds of up to 2,000 kilometers per hour.
It had a carrying capacity of three squads, or thirty Space Marines. One might think this too few to make much of a difference, but even a single Space Marine was horrifically deadly. With their armor, each weighed around 1,250 kilograms and was quite literally bred for war. A Space Marine was many times stronger than a normal human, far faster in terms of reflexes, capable of surviving in toxic or irradiated environments, and able to fight for days without rest.
The Power Armor itself was absurdly resilient. It was a completely enclosed suit of thick combat plating, constructed from adamantium and plasteel, and encased in ablative ceramite layers. It could withstand 20th-century tank shells with ease. The autopistols carried by the guards on Deliverance would not even register as an impact. Armored in it, a single member of the Legiones Astartes could physically overpower hundreds of regular infantry armed with standard weaponry.
Of course, they were not invincible. Arms and armor would always be locked in an arms race. For example, the primary weapon of the Space Marines – the bolter, or boltgun – fired mass-reactive bolts at its targets, each one a self-propelled miniature missile that exploded with devastating effectiveness. A weapon that could accurately fire .75 caliber rounds in rapid succession was not something even my own enhanced physique could endure.
Bolters could shred Power Armor, though the thicker sections could withstand multiple rounds. Because bolters were capable of killing a Space Marine, an even stronger suit of armor was developed, known as Tactical Dreadnought Armor, more commonly called Terminator Armor. Even an entire squad of Space Marines firing bolters would likely fail to bring down a single Terminator Marine. Of course, specialized weapons like meltaguns could still do the job.
The point of it all was that three squads of Space Marines could shatter strongpoints and utterly crush even entrenched positions. Along with its payload of Space Marines, the Thunderhawk carried its own armaments, including twin-linked heavy bolters, lascannons, and Hellstrike missiles. Its armored plating was incredibly thick, capable of withstanding all but the deadliest anti-air weaponry.
That wasn't good enough for what would be my Raven Guard. I wanted a Thunderhawk that could get in and out undetected. My absurdly proficient brain tackled the problem and came up with all sorts of ways to minimize its profile and nearly eliminate its presence on radar, augurs, and other sensors. Using thermal masking and sound-dampening materials, while also moving the engines within a bubble of null space, I had the perfect tool for Space Marine infiltration units.
Shadowhawks would begin production at the same time as Thunderhawks. But my scheming was not done yet. Ground combat was only one dimension of infiltration. Moving from planet to planet involved Warp travel to the outlying edge of a system, then sub-light travel within the system itself to a world. When it came to vessels that sailed the black ocean – the void, otherwise known as space – I also wanted something that could be surreptitious.
Most capital ships had Void Shields. A Void Shield was a specialized form of energy field powered by Warp-based technology that displaced ranged attacks traveling above a certain velocity. The power demands of such devices were immense, yet they served as the first line of defense against macrocannons, missile launchers, torpedoes, and various weapon batteries. Thick meters of armor plating of many kinds formed a second, crucial line of defense, but even in the best cases, some repairs were inevitable after battle. It was far better to let the shields absorb all damage when possible. These shields could be overwhelmed by concentrated fire, but the workings of the technology intrigued me.
I worked with some of the most brilliant minds Kiavahr had to offer and began altering existing technology in ways the Mechanicum had not considered. Technology to keep things hidden was not new, but the type of Reflex Shields I intended to fit on my Warp-capable craft was a new adaptation. These shields would render all radiation signatures entirely absent from augurs and even optical sensors. There were drawbacks, as Void Shields themselves were incompatible, and the amount of energy the Reflex Shields could contain was limited. This meant I could choose to move swiftly with strong shields ready for battle, or be neither fast nor combat-ready but nearly undetectable.
The shipyards that existed were nothing like those on Mars or Olympia. I would not be producing Battleships, Battle Barges, or even Cruisers—at least not in the near future. After upgrades, I could manufacture Frigates and Destroyers. Since the Raven Guard was attached to the 27th Expeditionary Fleet, which already possessed a vast array of heavy capital ships, my focus would instead be on leveraging the strengths of my legion and my Reflex Shield technology.
I would be introducing a new Destroyer, a somewhat barebones modification of the Cobra-class Destroyer. The Cobra-class was typically used as a small escort ship for larger capital vessels or as a patrol vessel. It measured 1.5 kilometers in length, could accelerate at 7G, and normally had a crew of 15,000.
Which was utterly wasteful. Such a large crew would not be necessary for what I had in mind. I would strip out a vast amount of the crew quarters, the torpedo bays, and other wasteful components. This would be a Raven Guard Space Marine vessel. By removing much of the life support needs, munitions, and crew, it would be left with a small laser battery, Reflex Shields, and a large – for its size – hangar bay capable of holding three Shadowhawks. This would be the ultimate infiltration vessel and ideally would never be involved in a single firefight.
The Legiones Astartes had specialized roles, including the Techmarine, a Mars-trained Space Marine skilled in caring for and maintaining technology. I wouldn't tolerate that in my Legion. Still, I valued the role. The gene-seed enhanced super warriors did not necessarily gain greater intellect, but they did gain faster thought. I believed that with dedicated study and those enhanced speeds of thought, Space Marines could quickly become just as skilled and talented as the best innovators in the Tech-Guilds.
I wonder if I'll have to call them something else. According to campaign reports, it isn't uncommon for multiple Expeditionary Fleets and Legions to work together on challenging assignments. Half the naming conventions are throwbacks to more ancient times. Let's go with… Forgemarine.
In any case, those Techmarines would be responsible for operating and maintaining my new Raven-class Destroyers. I believe it should be possible to operate a vessel like that with fewer than fifty Space Marines. This would make it vulnerable to boarding actions, but again, it should ideally never need to involve itself in combat. It would be able to ferry nearly an entire company of Space Marines to wherever they were needed, almost undetected, from the void of space down to the ground.
Infiltration teams could do so much. Decapitate enemy commanders, sabotage the void shields of hive cities, disable ground batteries, destroy ammunition depots, and much more. This was the secret sauce that would allow my corporation – err, Legion – to succeed and meet the targets the Emperor provided.
It was not all warfare, of course. The goal of the Great Crusade was twofold: to unite humanity and eliminate threats against it. Whenever possible, we sought to bring the disparate splinters of humanity back under his banner without bloodshed. However, that was often not possible. The primary threats came from Xenos. The most common type of Xenos threat was the Orks, but they were far from the only foe.
In almost every case, first contact with alien races was nothing like Star Trek. Records from the Great Crusade and the Age of Strife show Xenos preying upon mankind at every turn. Their mindset was too alien and too antagonistic toward human life to be allowed to survive.
It does smell a bit like propaganda to me. Seriously, not a single Xenos species wanted to be friends? I'll do what I must, of course. At least with Orks, there is more than enough evidence to show they need to be eradicated.
I had two years here, then I would spend some time on Terra. The Emperor had thought it likely to be at least two years. From there, I would have a ten-year period to bring a certain number of worlds into Compliance and deal with Xenos threats as needed. Should I succeed with the minimum expectations, which seemed slightly less than what the average Legion would accomplish in the same time, I would continue to enjoy my autonomy and freedom to rule the territories I captured as I saw fit, so long as I provided the Imperial Tithe, enforced the Imperial Truth, and avoided forbidden technological research. For good reason, the development of true AI was verboten. While my freedom-loving heart hated the idea of centralized restrictions on research, I understood it.
If I succeeded beyond the minimums and achieved the next tier, I would be granted additional supplies, access to auxiliary forces I could call on, and the ability to request reasonable additions to my personal fleet. The final step, achieving maximal results comparable to the 1st and 16th Legions, would bring even greater boons. I was warned that this first ten-year period would not be the norm, as expectations would increase as I grew into my role.
I believe the Emperor will be fair about this. Our agreement's purpose was to secure my buy-in and push me to greater effectiveness, but my baseline will need to exceed the performance of an average Legion to justify my special status.
Time was a limited commodity, and I had much to accomplish. A key aspect was finding roles and integrating the leadership of the freed slaves into Kiavahr. Reqaui and Manrus, two of my more favored initial tutors, would be given control. I considered allowing democracy to exist, but one with strict guidelines that was more advisory than anything else. You cannot vote your way out of the Imperium, and I was not going to tolerate anything that cut into my ability to meet my quota. Principles were fine, but I had to be pragmatic.
I learned that many of the freed slaves who were not too old could be implanted with the gene-seed originally derived from my unique genetic code, designed by the Emperor. They could become Space Marines.
Branne, Agapito, Kaedes, Torisian, Nykona, and Alvarex, along with countless others, were eager to join the ranks of the Legiones Astartes. Like in my second life, I was once again surrounded by battle maniacs.
The five Custodes who watched over me in groups of three at a time were an odd bunch. Their leader was Amon Tauromachian Xigaze Lepron Carin Hedrossa Pyrope – and that wasn't even his full name. He did not seem to take amiss my simply calling him Amon, though he showed little emotion except grim determination. Small talk was not in his vocabulary, but I did manage to get him to chat with me, and even spar with me.
That was important because he was the only one who could truly challenge me, though not by much. Our first bout was with metal weapons fashioned to imitate the Guardian Spear he wielded. I tried to modulate my strength. Despite Amon's clearly superior physique compared to regular humans, I was still far stronger. In the few calendar years since my arrival on Deliverance, just months after my meeting with the Emperor, I had reached my full height. Amon was maybe a centimeter taller than me, and his four companions were shorter than me. I felt reasonably satisfied with that until I learned I was shorter than all my brother Primarchs.
Curse you Being X!
I was apparently shorter by a full meter compared to the likes of Vulcan. At least I would likely be taller than everyone in my Legion, barring some rare exceptions from gene-seed implementation. It had taken some convincing to get Amon to spar with me, but I pointed out that he was there to protect me and it was easier to do so with relevant combat experience. Slaughtering the overseer guards on Deliverance did not count as relevant combat experience.
I had taken to questioning him about Terra, the Emperor, and my brothers as we fought. I strove to keep my natural speed and strength in line with his. He was extraordinary, every motion fluid perfection. Were I to use my full might I could crush him easily, but when I matched him evenly, our bouts would last hours.
Multitasking was the name of the game, and while I sparred conservatively with him, I also kept my comms device in my ear, listening to reports at quintuple speed to stay abreast of the transformations on my world. As combat, conversation, and reports only took up a fraction of my time, I also pondered technical schematics in my head, considering advances in technology and reviewing various formulae I planned to try once I arrived on Terra.
It became obvious after reviewing all the data I had been given access to that my magical talents were Psyker in nature. The Imperium relied heavily on Psyker abilities. Faster-than-light travel was only achievable through Warp travel, which required a specific Psyker mutation allowing Navigators to navigate the chaos of the Warp. Since FTL communication did not exist, the alternative was to use another type of Psyker, called an Astropath, who communicated with other Astropaths. Frustratingly, messages were often distorted by the turbulence of the Warp, making communication unclear at times.
On the other hand, it really is the perfect excuse for 'radio interference' if you ever want to avoid doing something you'd rather not do.
However, Psykers were dangerous. Tales of people literally exploding because they tried something they should not were a reality. Darker stories of madness and individuals using their gifts to harm and murder others were also frequent. Within the Space Marines, some of my brother Primarchs had created the Librarius Project, which codified the use of Psyker powers for the good of the Legion.
The powers used by the Librarians were very similar to the magical formulae I employed. Force domes were simply larger protective barriers. Summoning fire and lightning would likely prove similar enough to optical beams and explosive spells. Strangely, nothing in the documents given to me detailed the formulae behind this sort of phenomena. It was something I looked forward to learning when I arrived on Terra.
"Amon, you have fought by the Emperor's side for some time. Have you also fought beside my brother Primarchs?"
"I have."
What a wonderful conversation partner.
I gave him a smile as I let a fraction more of my strength flow into my strikes.
"Which ones?"
"Horus Lupercal, Fulgrim, and Ferrus Manus."
The 16th Legion, the Luna Wolves, was led by Horus. Fulgrim commanded the Emperor's Children, the 3rd Legion, and Ferrus Manus led the 10th Legion, the Iron Hands. Reviewing their military records, Horus stood out as the best at Legion management, though this was partly because he had been leading longer than the others, having been the first Primarch found by the Emperor. Fulgrim had made significant progress rebuilding his Legion, which had been in rough shape when he was found. His list of achievements lagged behind those of Ferrus, but more recent campaigns showed their effectiveness to be closer.
"What do you think of them?"
"It is not my place to speak of the Emperor's Generals."
"This isn't a meeting or something that will be disseminated. I am simply curious about my brothers."
He was silent for a moment before he relented.
"Horus is a brilliant warrior, always eager to take the offensive. He is steadfast and loyal to the Emperor's commands. Fulgrim favors grand displays, yet he too follows orders. He seeks opportunities to fight alongside his two brothers, even when it is not the most strategic choice. Ferrus speaks little, but like his brothers, he obeys the Emperor." The Custodes parried and then jabbed at me in quick succession. "I saw you had studied blueprints of artifice – something you and Ferrus share in common."
At least that was something. Amon's answers rarely offered more than the bare minimum unless I pressed him. I kept at him, asking about their fighting styles, how their Legions operated, and other details. What he chose to answer – and what he left unspoken – helped shape my understanding. For example, his silence made it clear a Custodes guard was no ordinary soldier. Was it because this body was female? Or because I was a Psyker? Or perhaps it was the unusual agreement I had forged with the Emperor?
This isn't an honor guard; it's the Emperor watching over me. I'm fine with that. I have nothing to hide, and it's another source of information I can access.
Amon didn't strike me as boastful, so I believed him when he said the Custodian Guard were superior fighters to the Legiones Astartes. I pressed him further about why that was and about their origins, but he mostly clammed up. Still, I learned that they were physiologically different from Space Marines and did not possess a gene-seed. Space Marines reproduced asexually in a way.
A Space Marine is not born but created. A gene-seed and several specialized organs are surgically implanted into human volunteers. After an intense and grueling process, they either reject the treatment or transform into powerful warriors of the Legiones Astartes. Over their lifetime, each Space Marine produces two gene-seeds, which can be harvested and implanted into two more volunteers. This system allowed fleets, sometimes away from Terra for over a century, to replenish their ranks and replace losses.
Gene-seeds could also be produced on Terra within the Emperor's genetic laboratories, though the exact methods were not something I was permitted to know. Likely by design, considering the monumental power granted to a Space Marine compared to the capabilities of an average human soldier.
The Custodes were not like that, though I could not discern how they were created. Beyond their physiological differences, they possessed superior arms and armor. Their Guardian Spears were more potent than any traditional power spear or bolter. They were a deadly and versatile fusion of melee and ranged weaponry.
Their armor was forged from an auramite alloy, far superior to Space Marine power armor. I was insanely jealous, and should I achieve all of my stretch goals, I intended to inquire how I might secure suits for myself and my most trusted commanders.
Amon did not share any information regarding the construction of the armor or the sourcing of the auramite, but he did reveal that its defensive capabilities surpassed even those of Terminator armor, all while lacking its notorious bulk. My curiosity was well and truly piqued, and I added a whole slew of questions to the growing list I intended to present to the Emperor when next I saw him upon Terra.
Chapter 4Chapter TextChapter 4
Our Legion and those of the 20th waited as patiently as we could. After Angron's recovery, our concern only grew. Why hadn't our gene-father been found? Was he lost for all time? Had some misfortune befallen him? It was an honor to be regularly called upon by such an esteemed Primarch as Lupercal, but we longed for a Primarch of our own.
When word came that our Primarch was found, we rejoiced. Yet we found not a gene-father, but a gene-mother – something that should have been impossible. Nonetheless, we were eager to take our place as a full Legion, united under a single commander, rather than scattered across myriad campaigns as a fragmented force.
Little did we know just how different Corax would prove to be compared to the other Primarchs…
- Arkhas Fal, XIX Legion Master
I left Reqaui in command of Kiavahr and Deliverance. He was too old for gene-seed implantation, and all those young enough to attempt it were eager to do so. I brought with me all the stalwarts I could fit aboard the cruiser. The vessel was mammoth, just over five kilometers in length. And yet, the flagship I would soon command was said to be five times its size. The sheer scale and resources required to construct even a single battleship defied comprehension.
The would-be Legiones Astartes were excited to be leaving their home system for the first time, and I was curious too. But when we transitioned from realspace into the Warp, I felt myself being watched. It was eerily familiar, though less immediately threatening, like the moment I was first cast into this universe for my third life. I let my senses expand, and I could feel intelligences just beyond perception, lingering outside the vessel.
Amon shifted and I noticed him staring at me even more intently than normal.
I had best get used to this, for my part in the Great Crusade would involve a great deal of travel like this.
The one person I brought with me who would not be undergoing organ implantation was Nasturi. For whatever reason, the female body was incompatible with gene-seed implantation. This had disappointed her, and in a moment of weakness, I had consented to let her accompany me.
She'll get to see the homeworld of mankind and her presence will help lift my spirits.
I felt a twinge of disillusionment as I explored the ship. The Imperium of Man was supposed to be better than Deliverance had been, but even aboard this vessel, there was a stark and troubling reality to the lives of some aboard. A few had been press-ganged into service. Their work was often exceedingly dangerous, even outside of combat. And worst of all—there were the servitors.
Servitors were once human, but now were cyborgs that handled mostly monotonous tasks, though not always. They were flesh-robots. What level of sentience they had varied, but the simple and crystal-clear reality was that they were slaves. It was an abhorrent waste of human resources that filled me with a disturbing amount of rage.
I had studied the military campaigns – I knew the Emperor had no qualms about making hard choices – but this kind of inefficient inhumanity galled me. The only silver lining was that my instincts and desire for autonomy had clearly been the right call. Servitors like these would not be found on my worlds, not while I had any say in it.
I crouched down and gave Nasturi a sideways embrace. "I'm told the first time traveling this way can make people nervous. But I knew you wouldn't be."
My statement was true. Every perceptive bone in my body told me she was calm and content. No trembling hands, no quickened pulse. She was simply at ease, just glad to be there.
"You'll protect me if anything happens."
"I will. Have you considered what you want to be when you grow up?"
"Hmm, maybe I'll pilot a ship like this! That way I can still go with you as you go crusading."
"You could do that, yes. You could also serve as an administer on Deliverance. I need people I can trust to handle things while I'm away."
She shrugged. "I want to stay with you. Promise me you'll let me."
I shook my head. "I will not. I won't risk you needlessly. When things are safe, you may stay with me, but I'm not taking you into battle – void or ground – not until you're older and have a profession that necessitates your being aboard."
Nasturi gave a dramatic sigh, and I couldn't help but smile. Counting all three of my lives, I was getting on in years. My rational heart felt a softness when it came to her. I couldn't quite explain why, but I intended to keep Nasturi around for the long haul. She was still a child, but eventually, she would grow old. There were rejuvenation treatments and advanced technologies that could allow her to live twice as long as humans from my first two lives. Beyond that, there was also the possibility of even further extension. It was something I would begin to investigate at what possibilities existed.
I felt the outside of the ship shift and frowned. Something was afoot, and I strained to hear without ears and to see without eyes. For a half-second, I glimpsed the Warp. The walls of the ship vanished, revealing the churning riot of color and energy. I saw creatures, monsters really, clawing at the vessel, held at bay by the Geller Field. I shook my head rapidly, and the vision was gone.
Imagination formed from my worries and concerns? Am I truly this nervous about the journey? Focus, Tanya. You have schematics to review and knowledge of spaceborne vessels to acquire.
***
Terra looked nothing like Earth. The skies were the wrong color, and there was no hint of proper landmasses or oceans. As we descended, I felt a measure of disquiet. Numbers on a dataslate could only convey so much. With a population in the hundreds of billions and countless wars over dwindling resources, there were no longer any large bodies of water. Great cities were stacked atop one another, and I knew they also extended deep into the ground.
The Emperor's Palace was immense, a city unto itself. Care had been taken to make it gleam with glory, but hidden turret emplacements and countless disguised gun positions were visible to my enhanced senses. As I disembarked, I was greeted by a number of officials.
My gaze was naturally drawn to the largest man – three meters tall, in gleaming warplate. His face was noble, fierce, full of amusement and wisdom, framed by a well-trimmed topknot of dark hair. Based on the context of the situation, this could only be Horus Lupercal. The plating of his armor was ivory white and lunar grey, adorned with the wolf's head sigil of his Legion. The suit was a work of art, its shoulders draped with a heavy cloak of deep green edged with gold, and its breastplate engraved with the Imperial Aquila.
It doesn't fit the diagrams of Terminator Armor, but it isn't the Mark IV or any other listed Power Armor in the schematics given to me.
The Astartes next to him wore standard Terminator Armor and bore the colors and heraldry of the Nineteenth Legion, my Legion. Had he not been in Terminator Armor, I would have been taller – but that type of armor typically adds almost half a meter of height. Even encased with the thick plating, he looked a shadow compared to the towering majesty of Horus Lupercal.
The man between the two looked old and was positively diminutive in comparison to the two massively armored titans. His staff was topped with the double-headed eagle of the Imperium, but otherwise he seemed simply attired. His robes were unadorned, and he met my eyes as I approached.
Based on the context here, I placed him as Malcador the Sigillite. The Emperor had stated that Malcador was his most trusted advisor, who oversaw the Imperial bureaucracy and managed affairs on Terra in his absence.
As I reached them, Malcador spoke first. "Welcome to Terra, Tanya Corax. To my right is Horus, Primarch of the Luna Wolves. To my left is Arkhas Fal, Legion Master of the Raven Guard." His lips quirked upward. "At least until you take your place at its head."
I inclined my head toward Malcador.
"Thank you. I have been given a tremendous responsibility and look forward to working with you closely."
Horus took that moment to advance on me and engulf my hand in his.
"Sister! You are an unexpected delight; we are no longer only a brotherhood. Be welcome to the cradle of humanity. Ever since Father shared the joy of your recovery, I have longed to meet you in person."
He seemed enthusiastic, and I felt my lips tug upward in a smile I had not consciously chosen to make.
Odd… is he using a formula or Psyker gift? I don't detect any soothing scent or chemical additive that would promote trust. His voice is commanding and melodious, but that should not impact me. For some reason, I want to like this person, and I suspect there is something more at play than polished looks and a welcoming tone.
"I am pleased to meet you, Horus. I greatly admire the pluck of the people in the System where I was found, but I am eager to match wits and words with those closer to my own capabilities."
Horus laughed. "Well said! It is a pity that the great work of the Great Crusade cannot be halted. Else I would summon our brothers to come to Terra and greet you."
"I am sure I will meet them in time." I turned to Arkhas. "While I was lost out in the galaxy, you led my Legion. I have studied the archives of the Nineteenth's performance and salute your discipline, vigor, and command capabilities. Know that I intend to continue making use of you in the wars to come."
"Thank you, Lady Corax!" He slammed his fist to his chest, his voice practically bleeding with gratitude and pride.
Malcador explained what would happen next. I was to meet with him over the next several days to help me understand my role in the Great Crusade. After that, I would be given to an impatient Horus who wished to know more about me. Finally, I would be granted time to meet the rest of the Raven Guard gathering in the system.
"I thought I would be here for at least a couple of years before beginning."
"You will, or perhaps not. Horus has designs on your time, but I will allow him to discuss it with you later." Malcador's eyes gave the Primarch a glance before turning toward mine. "It will take a significant amount of time for the Raven Guard to gather. Of primary importance is not allowing their recall to impact the speed of our critical purpose. They will arrive piecemeal, and you will have the opportunity to modify their organization as you see fit."
As for the recruits from Deliverance, they would be taken to medical teams to begin the process of determining compatibility for gene-seed implantation. Nasturi would be watched over and taken on tours of the more interesting places of interest. Malcador was a busy man, so soon I was secluded with him in a room that contained some very interesting technology, likely used to ensure no eavesdropping could occur.
"I am sure you have many questions, but before anything else, Tanya, we need to discuss your Psyker abilities."
I gave him a confident smile. "I've followed the Emperor's instructions and avoided experimentation. I do have questions about it and am keen to learn how to use my talent safely."
He stared at me. "Remarkable. I too am a Psyker, and one I dare say is quite accomplished. And yet you are an enigma to all my senses in that regard. Your genetic template was built for stealth, and somehow this has also given you the ability to utterly hide your thoughts from other Psykers even without actively taking precautions. Quite extraordinary, but also troubling."
Had he tried to read my mind? Rude. But understandable. They were about to put an army under my command. If I had an easy way to ferret out a subordinate's intentions, I would be tempted to read their thoughts as well.
"Formulae that can read people's minds? Useful, but invasive. They hardly endear trust."
He laughed. "You have a point. But I am curious – your way of viewing your Psyker abilities is not at all common. You call them formulae?"
I nodded. "Yes, permission to use verbiage that may be offensive?"
He wrinkled his brow but gestured that I continue.
"My Psyker abilities are the deliberate use of mana to interfere with the world. It is a method that allows the apparition of phenomena by giving appropriate stimulation to the point of application. Just as gravity can be calculated, so too can the use of mana. By structuring the stimulation with a magical formula, I can predict the results and create the phenomena I desire."
He blinked. I realized that the way I utilized magic must be quite different than the way it was typically used.
"Intriguing concept, Tanya. Please demonstrate for me and I will observe."
I nodded and use a simple flight formula to levitate myself in the air. His eyes shine with interest and I could feel him doing something. My mana senses were tingling and I felt my own mana become disrupted as I fell back down to the chair.
"Your craft weaves like a filament of gossamer, bending the material world with the barest touch," the voice intoned. "Such precision is a mark of mastery." I had no time to savor the praise delivered with the gravity of a verdict, before he continued. "But delicacy invites disruption. Strengthen what you have wrought and resist my attempt to unmake it."
I puzzled over what he was suggesting. Were there formulae that created barriers to magic taking hold? I didn't want to experiment just yet, so instead I layered the flight formulae a half-dozen times. Again, I plopped back down on my chair swiftly.
"Again."
I repeated it and other spells multiple times. In time, I began to feel my body grow weary. I wasn't hemorrhaging internally, not yet, but if I kept going, that would likely be the outcome. I told Malcador that my strength was fading.
"Your stamina falls short of Magnus, your brother, who shares the gift of the Psyker. Your body should be more resilient than this. You continue to intrigue me, Tanya. I fear you are a puzzle that might keep me from my duties for years to come. Over the next weeks, I will push your limits and establish guardrails for your work. I also require you to record every formula you employ for my inspection."
I nod in agreement, easy terms.
"All Psyker activity makes use of the Warp. It is dangerous for anyone to do so. However, your unique way of wielding your powers is truthfully one of the least dangerous methods. The danger lies in the temptation to do more than what you know will work. I will guide you in the use of other abilities – by the time you take command of your Legion, you will be in contact with your own Legion's Librarians, who use their Psyker talents in more common ways than you do. But there are far more topics than just your own abilities that we must discuss."
I quirked an eyebrow. "Go on."
"Your Legion's gene-seed was made when you were still male. After you and your brothers were scattered into the Warp, some of you changed. Sanguinius grew wings, and that was not due to any artifice of the Emperor's. This is not unprecedented; nonetheless, we come to a fork in the road. Do we attempt to use your new genetic template to craft more gene-seed, or do we continue the present course?"
The choice was obvious to me. Variety was good. You needed some employees good at training, others needed to be good at sales, and of course, you needed management. My reading had determined that the gene-seed conferred unique abilities. The Raven Guard seemed to have a phenomenal skill at moving unseen and unheard. The Space Wolves were devastatingly effective close-quarters fighters. Given that divert of talent was good for business, I wanted to have both.
"We should test a small group to ensure it even works. Since problems can arise as we proceed and the original gene-seed has proven stable, I will not want to use the new gene-seed frequently. After the first small group, I'd want to expand it so that 10% of fresh gene-seed implementations incorporate my new genetic attributes. After some decades we can reevaluate."
Malcador's lined face softened into a kindly smile, unassuming as a scholar of Terra's ancient halls.
"A sharp mind, Tanya," he murmured, his voice gentle. "Some of your gene-forged kin, in their pride, would insist all new Astartes bear your warp-touched legacy as it now stands. Others would decry any deviation from the Emperor's pristine design as a violation of His intent. Yet you, I see, tread a pragmatist's path, much like Roboute, whose stratagems bind worlds to the Emperor's grand design."
I smiled in return, both because 'mirroring' was a useful tool for interpersonal relationships and because I was pleased with the compliment. Roboute Guilliman was the commander of the 13th Legion and had an impressive string of victories under his belt. He was certainly among the high performers of the Primarchs in terms of the number of worlds successfully inducted into the Imperium.
"How soon can it be tested?"
"We can begin right away. If there are any initial flaws that lead to swift rejection, we will know within weeks. However, full integration and maturity will take a minimum of five years. Only then will we know the results and how they compare to the original gene-seed."
That decided, we discussed other matters. I learned much about protocol, how assignments were divvied out, what the expectations were for a Primarch, and further clarification on how reinforcements and resupply functioned.
We then discussed his concerns about the deal I had made with the Emperor.
"Your desire for independence has troubled me. It may end up being a threat to the unity we are attempting to form. It may also divide your loyalties. This, like your gene-seed, is an experiment. Competition between Primarchs is something He views as beneficial for the Great Crusade. But due to our inability to read your thoughts and your desire for quasi-independent rule, I will tell you that there is concern. We will be watching you with both open agents of the Imperium and hidden ones. Any hidden ones you uncover should not be harmed."
I grinned. "Fair enough. Amon was there to report on me, but I don't mind him. Having extra protection is never a bad thing, and I enjoyed our spars. If you wish to have the Custodian Guard join me in greater numbers, I will have no objections. If you want other Legions to help garrison worlds I have brought into Compliance, I will enthusiastically endorse it, as that frees up more of my own Astartes for hitting my stretch goals."
He nodded affably. "You are so very different from your brothers. It remains to be seen if that is for good or ill. I will make arrangements for the 1st Legion to have a company of Space Marines assigned to Kiavahr. Deliverance will also house a regiment of the Solar Auxilia. These can be used in defense against assault, but otherwise their sole task will be to oversee and inspect what is done on those worlds. A world with the capability of being a true Forge World outside of oversight is a risk I am unwilling to allow."
I thanked him for the 'gift' of additional manpower to defend my holdings. Amon would continue to be with me, which led me to ask questions about auramite and how I might get my hands on some.
"No, Tanya, and not for the reasons I spoke of earlier." Malcador's voice was a low, measured cadence, each word etched with the weight of unyielding authority. That more than anything let me know this was as good as final until I had a chance to speak with the Emperor. "The Emperor's decree would deny this to any of His gene-forged progeny, Primarch though they be. His master artificers labor even now in the forges of Terra, shaping warplate bespoke to your form and function. It undergoes final refinements and, within a cycle of Luna's tide, you shall don it for trial. Forged not of auramite, yet its resilience rivals the panoply of the Custodes. The Master of Mankind Himself guided its design, wrought to amplify your genetic gifts."
I resisted the urge to rub my hands together. I did love having access to specialized equipment and additional tools to help me survive.
I won't press him, but was this armor designed around this body's original genetic gifts? Or what I am now?
***
Horus had many siblings, but Tanya Corax was singular. No other Primarch was like her. When he had pestered his Father for an answer, he was told that, like the Angel, Corax had changed during her transit to the world she ended up on. Primarchs varied in size. Magnus and Vulkan were outliers in one direction, and now Tanya was in another.
Malcador had secreted her away to begin her education. Primarchs could absorb information faster than any normal mortal, even faster than post-human Astartes, but the Imperium was a complex, multifaceted beast. No doubt the old man also wanted to ensure the changes made to Corax were benign, like the ones that affected Sanguinius.
He had always appreciated the talents of the Nineteenth Legion and respected Shade Lord Fal. He was no Ezekyle Abaddon, but his First Captain was singular among the Legiones Astartes. Only Sigismund among the Astartes could match him in a duel, and warfare was more than dueling. The Legion Master of the Raven Guard had served well, supplementing the Luna Wolves' lightning-fast assaults with stealth units already in position to maximize enemy confusion and chaos.
I will miss their talents, but I hope not too soon. As I mentored Fulgrim and taught him what it means to be a Primarch, so too do I wish to guide Tanya.
As the first-found son of the Emperor, it had been his honor to show what it meant to be a Primarch and a loyal son. It was unfortunate that not all had heeded his hard-won wisdom, but most had. He counted the majority of his brothers among his beloved.
As of yet, Malcador had denied his request to have the Raven Guard and Tanya join him and the Luna Wolves. The Sigillite had stated that Tanya Corax wished to rule worlds with a more direct hand, and that to be granted such a boon, she would have to prove herself capable. That required her to operate independently. This displeased Horus, and he intended to bring the matter to his Father when possible. However, with the vagaries of Warp travel and the difficulties of making his case through Astropaths, his options were limited.
He did manage to convince the old man to allow Tanya to accompany him in responding to an Ork incursion in a surprising sector near Sol. Orks were hard to stamp out, and a large horde of the ogrish brutes had crashed into several worlds. Instead of having the Solar Auxilia handle it, since Horus and several Chapters of his Luna Wolves were in-system, he wished to deal with it personally… with Tanya. Bonds forged through bloodshed were the ones that meant the most.
Malcador had considered it and ultimately allowed him to ask Tanya if she wished to participate. The new Primarch had many duties to learn, especially given the course she had chosen, so Malcador would not order her to join Horus. He was eager to begin, and the days felt long until Tanya was made available.
The first thing he wished to do was speak and engage her in close combat – to test her mettle and see what she was capable of. The Primarchs often wrestled and dueled with one another, though rarely with the full force of their power. It was difficult to gauge how much trauma even a Primarch could endure. His brother Primarch Vulkan had confessed that he held back for fear of wounding others.
"Sparring? I would be glad to; I have only been able to do so with Amon."
"Father's guardians are talented, but they pale before us, sister. Come, let us see how well you can brawl before we take up the blade."
Horus found Tanya a difficult opponent to pin down. Her movements were unorthodox but effective. In the end, he was far more practiced and had a noticeable edge in strength. Horus frowned.
"Are you holding back?"
"In terms of speed and power? No, brother." She rose to her feet, her face slightly bruised. "I am not. However, I am avoiding strikes that could be debilitating or life-threatening, such as a blow to your throat, eyes, or temple."
Sanguinius's alteration granted him soaring majesty, a peerless reflection of Father's grand design. A pity, then, that my only sister's change has left her lesser than her brothers. She is formidable, far surpassing any Astartes, yet I sense a frailty where I expected unyielding strength. No matter. Under my guidance, she will be honed to her utmost potential, as all my siblings must. I am the Emperor's first son, and it falls to me to shape them into weapons worthy of His Great Crusade, though some, in their pride, spurn the wisdom I offer.
She also seemed more lethargic after their bouts than his brothers would have been. Primarchs rarely slept, and while listening to the old man's lectures might have been mentally taxing, it should not have left her physically drained.
"Shall we take up blades, sister? Even among our kind, crossing a Primarch tests the limits." His voice was light, free of scorn. Horus would not shame his sister after grappling with him at a level no Astartes could match.
"Absolutely. This has been humbling, but it feels good to exert myself. I already feel more capable after matching against you." Tanya smiled, and Horus nodded. She may not have been as physically strong, but she understood the benefit of his tutelage.
With swords, she suffered a disadvantage in reach, but here, where skill played a greater role than pure strength, the field was less lopsided. Horus still won each match, but he couldn't hold back as much. She was an inventive opponent who kept him on his toes.
As they sparred, she also began peppering him with questions. She asked about campaigns and the most dangerous forms of Xenos. Beyond combat-related topics, she sought answers about diplomacy and what approaches worked best with the differing societal structures among the scattered worlds of mankind.
Horus found himself deeply enjoying the day and was all the more determined to see Tanya succeed with her Legion.
"Sister, you are more than equal to the challenge the Orks present. A splinter of one of their hordes has been sighted, and I mean to suppress it soon. I would see you fight beside me, that you might witness how the Legiones Astartes conduct war."
She met his gaze evenly. "I would be honored to, but I would need to know a few more details. How long is the anticipated Warp travel to and from the target? How long do you believe the campaign will take?"
Horus's smile held a predator's quiet triumph; her probing questions betrayed a mind now ensnared by his call to arms, eager to join him in scouring Xenos by his side.