Deep in the Shadow of the Emperor's Wrath

[Teetengee]

Forewarning: Official fluff is great and all but I won’t let it get in the way of writing a good story.

This is the story of my diy loyalist* chapter the Storm Reavers.

*in the loosest sense of the term.

[Teetengee]

     The inquisitor kept one eye on the battle raging around him as the black armored apothecary finished extracting the gene-seed from the Grey Knight’s broken body.

     <With that we have everything I need> mused the inquisitor, <the Emperor thanks you.>

     <Yes but the Knights certainly won’t. We need to leave now, Marcade> thought back the marine softly, surely, solemnly.

     After Marcade shot a few plasma bolts into the Knight’s body disguising the surgery, they went to their waiting transport and took off into the stars through the hail of fire scouring the shattered landscape of Armageddon. Back on Marcade’s ship in orbit around a nearby moon they stored the gene seed with the others they had collected.

     “At last,” Marcade said, more to himself than anyone in the room, “Navigator, take us to Solemnity.”

On the star charts it could be seen that the navigator had set the course for the Eye.

 

*2*

 

     They docked at the derelict hulk of the remains of a blackstone fortress split in two in some ancient war by some inconceivable force on the far side of the Eye of Terror. Marcade left the ship followed by three black armored marines, including a techmarine, and several servitors bearing a suspensor equipped capsule. They arrived at a massive laboratory bristling with arcane technologies, bustling with servitors, a veritable starscape of diodes, indicators, and worklights. Marcade and the third marine, wearing a helmet shaped in the skull of his order, looked on as the apothecary and the techmarine worked peculiar servitors to install the contents of the capsule into an ancient and bizarre machine.

     “Choragius, is the device ready?” Marcade aimed at the techmarine.

     “The re-splicer should be functional, although I doubt highly that all of the seed will come out identical.” Choragius admitted.

     “That will be Sanos’s problem and mine,” said the skull helmeted marine, “We have trained a long time for such peculiar problems.”

     “Vigilo is correct, there is no need to worry about that problem when we have so many more,” Marcade sounded increasingly impatient, “Do it, there is no need to wait.”

     Choragius engaged the device, which awoke like a beast startled from sleep by a storm, first it screeched, then it roared, and finally it settled into a quiet humming.

 

*3*

 

     Marcade and Sanos led the pack of servitors down the empty halls of Solemnity, the quick steps of the inquisitor on the metal floor echoed along the corridor beating out a frantic staccato in sharp contrast with the slow heavy clangs of the marine’s power armored footsteps. Winding down the long path into the bowels of the fortress, they arrived at a cavernous chamber sealed by great ceramite doors. Marcade unlocked the gates and led the group through. The room was filled with row after row of pods each holding a single comatose test-slave and all hooked up to advanced life support systems. Sanos had the servitors bring a pod to the operating table and removed one of the newly reformatted progenoid glands from the capsule they had brought down. He and Marcade opened up the test-slave and implanted that most sought after organ. The servitors then brought the test-slave and vat back to its storage space and brought back another.They repeated the process again and again until all the glands had been used save one. That one was placed carefully back within the capsule. Marcade then laid himself down on the table.

     “I’m ready for the first three,” Marcade spat out as Sanos strapped him down to the table.

     “I’ll be the judge of that,” answered Sanos calmly as he took samples from Marcade, “Yes, the age regression process appears to have worked, your body seems ready to receive the implants.”

     “Then get to work,” Marcade barely finished speaking before the drugs took effect and he knew no more.

 

*4*

 

Choragius’s Log

Date: Time will be meaningless if all goes well.

     Sanos tells me he has been able to slow the virus, and I can keep it mostly in check while awake, but even we must sleep sometimes. Vigilo says he has seen the future and that I have many a role yet to play in our grand scheme. I must believe them.

     Perhaps it would have gone differently if my aim had been true. Perhaps that beast would never have touched me and they wouldn’t have been close enough to hear it’s scream. Yet, the Emperor guides my arm; this must be as He intended. His will be done.

     Use the enemies’ weapons against them, that is, no was, part of our duty in the Deathwatch. Though I am probably forsaken now by them too, that is all we are trying to do. Perhaps we will be forsaken even by the Emperor after what we do now. But even if our souls be forfeit I will not forsake the Imperium. Vigilo tells of our deeds to come as unspoken, unthanked, and absolutely necessary.\

 

Note: Title logs from now on, dates are suspect.

 

*5*

 

     “Today we attempt what no loyal citizen of the Imperium has done before,” Marcade said with great import, leaning heavily on his force staff for support.

     “Let’s hope that the Xenos hasn’t tricked us,” said Choragius warily.

     “We know he isn’t lying, but let’s hope he knows what he is...,” said Sanos.

     “He does,” ended Vigilo with knowing finality, “We will be fine, the modifications to the Navigator were successful, and the food replicators are fully functional, Marcade, it’s up to you.”

     Marcade spoke the words that would potentially damn them all, “Ten years in a day. Take us through, Prometheus.”

     <Right away, sir> answered the Navigator.

 

*6*

 

     Sanos looked up from Marcade’s unconscious frame at the vidscreen. The vast cloud of green and blue surrounding the ship pulsed with malevolence. Impossible skittering horrors, made of scything claws and of malice, clambered over all the parts of the Uerisimile Conatus looking for purchase with which to tear the ship into oblivion. Sanos shuddered and returned to his work.

     Choragius’ alarmed voice rang out through the chamber from the vox as the warning sirens began to go off, “The Sensei field is breaking down near the port side engine!”

Sanos took up his bolt pistol and slammed on his helmet as he rushed out the door. <Vigilo, are you coming?> thought Sanos in earnest.

     <I can’t. Prometheus is having some sort of fit, I am putting his mind to ease.>

     <We’ll do our best without you,> thought Sanos in exasperation.

     Sanos ran quickly down the corridors, the sounds of flamer and plasma fire beginning to reach his ears over a chorus of hideous screams. The noise died down as he arrived at the engine room. Choragius stood in the midst of a pile of burnt or burning daemon corpses, slowly flickering into oblivion. “Where’s the breach?” Sanos asked quickly.

     Before Choragius could speak the hellspawn made the answer abundantly clear by tearing through the vent to Sanos’ left. The many eyed beast pounced on Sanos knocking him to the floor. Three flickering tongues licked out of its many tentacled maw to taste Sanos’s armor. It sang with impotent rage and its tentacles flared out as Sanos bucked it off to land in the corner on three sets of warp sharpened claws. Before it could stand back up, Sanos leveled a shot at it with his bolt pistol. The psionically charged bolt burrowed deep into the beasts flank before exploding in a burst of kaleidoscope gore, splattering the wall opposite with all that remained. Choragius’s accursed left arm formed the plasma rifle which he used to quickly dispatch another of the tentacle wolves. “Use this to seal the breach!” He shouted to Sanos, throwing back a small canister as he thundered down the room toward a patch of giggling daemonspawn.

     Sanos caught the canister and quickly got to work on the wall, spraying the nano-foam over the holes, sealing them tight. Choragius purged the hellish remainder congregated around a control panel with the judicious use of his servo-harness flamer. Quickly he set upon repairing the Sensei field relay that the beasts had damaged. “Field holding stable,” said Choragius over the shipwide vox. Turning, he gazed into the gaping jaw of a beast for a split second, long enough even for the spray of acidic saliva to begin to sizzle on the ceremite of his helmet, but far too short for the beasts razor sharp fangs to clamp down.Then a bead of light appeared in the beast’s forehead which expanded quickly in an explosion that painted Choragius’s armor an interestingly new pattern of yellow and pink.

     “Thanks, Sanos,” Choragius said, perhaps a bit reluctantly.

     “You're welcome,” said Sanos as he lowered his smoking bolt pistol, “Did you fix it?”

     “Yes, I repaired the breach,” said Choragius calmly, “First breach in two years, just had to happen while Marcade was under the knife. Still,” his arm reshaping into a fist, “I am surprised we haven’t had more problems, operating without a proper Gellar field.”

     “It’s the Numen’s light, the Emperor protects us still,” interjected Vigilo as he entered the room carrying the corpse of a small impish creature.      “I found what was troubling our Navigator. He should be fine in a few hours time. We will be entering realspace while he recovers. I think it will be good to see what we are fighting for. It will be good to see the stars.”

     They combed the remainder of the Uerisimile Conatus for any other daemonic incursions while the ship made the transition and then sojourn into realspace. Sanos stole a glance at a vidscreen and smiled. It was covered in stars.

 

*7*

 

     Marcade convulsed with pain. The mixture of genes roiling in his blood was tearing his body apart and building it anew at every level. With a scream and a twitch he smashed his servo-skull attendant to pieces. Sanos entered the room with a fresh batch of muscle relaxants, “Are you ready, Marcade?”

     “No!” shouted Marcade through clenched teeth, “Give me no more medicine until the next stage. I must adapt with this new body or it will kill me.”

     “If you must, but this ma-,” began Sanos unable to finish because of the psychic scream that issued forth from Marcade and echoed through the warp space around them. Fortunately, the prince of excess heard it not, with them being so far into the formless wastes. Such agony would have certainly earned his profane attentions. After pulling down the barriers he had barely been able to erect in time around his mind, Sanos finished. “Without the medicine, the process may kill you regardless.”

     “Nonsense, this is merely my first test of faith, but I thank you for your kindness Sanos. Please bring me Vigilo,” answered Marcade, breathing heavily.

     “Very well,” Sanos left to wake the Chaplain from his sleep.

     “Greetings, Sanos,” Vigilo answered, apparently wakened by Marcade’s scream. “How is Marcade?”

     “In grave condition, I fear,” Sanos answered dutifully, “he requests your presence, and I believe that his problems are not so much of the body but of the spirit. Your guidance is the best medicine we can administer at this juncture.”

     “Thank you, I will speak to him,” said Vigilo, with a far off look in his already distant eyes. Vigilo stood, following Sanos out the door, but turning towards the medical bay as Sanos peeled off to check on the test-slave vats. Walking down the metal corridors, he left a lonely echo in his wake.

     “Your council would be much appreciated, Vigilo,” managed Marcade in between wheezing breaths.

     “We are six years into this leg of our venture,” began Vigilo, “but that is nothing compared to the time we have yet to spend in our duty. From my glimpses of your fever dreams your nightmare is not to fall but to fail. I would be remiss to not remind you that they are one and the same for us. But there is brighter news. I have seen our first battles. That means we must live on for some time hence. Surely that is some small comfort. The Emperor has some purpose for us yet.”

     “His will be done,” said Marcade with the old grim, determined fire flaring once again in his eyes.

     “His will be done,” echoed Vigilo.

 

*8*

 

     “The process has worked, the blending in of all these; the eleventh, the Knights, the Children, and so many others, has produced you.” Sanos said to a silent Marcade. Marcade stared out into the maddening colors of the void as the ship tore through in glorious return to realspace. Now standing over a head taller than he did precious years earlier, he turned to face Sanos. His heavily scarred features played sharp contrast to the sleek black and gold suit of power armor he now wore. Sanos brought him out of his reverie, “Vigilo and I agree that you as architect should lead, that you should name us.”

     “Then I shall. I would be lying if I said that I have not long desired this power. But now I understand the cost. This much power in the hand of every human would tear the Imperium asunder; it is no wonder that the Imperium fears the Astartes as much as it needs them. We shall raid the warp storms; striking hard and fast. We shall ride into battle upon the steeds of our enemies and cut them down with their own swords. We shall leave a great blood wake, but we shall never rest, for we are forsaken to all who we protect. We shall be the reavers of the storms,” Marcade finished with quiet certainty.

     Sanos nodded, “We still have almost forty years until we will have enough seed to create the full company.”

Marcade replied quickly, “That assumes we find enough recruits. We need to start now,” The ship tore towards the planet below, which raged with the fires of battle.

***

[Teetengee]

Here are the colors of the Storm Reavers. Their insignia is a red lightning bolt.

[Wulfkry]

So an inquisitor is receiving SM implants using GK geneseed stolen off the fields of armageddon interesting..

[Teetengee]

Added two more sections to Chapter 1.

[Teetengee]

Added Chapter 1 Section 6 and changed the formatting for better readability.

[Teetengee]

Added Chapter 1 section 7 and made a few edits here and there.

[Teetengee]

So the rest of the chapter is up (again).

[Teetengee]

Chapter 2, Section 1:

Sergeant John Monroe knew he was dying. Already the feeling was fading from his fingertips. The corpse of the monster who had killed him lay across his legs. In a sense it was fortunate that he had already lost the ability to feel them; the massive weight of the the dead marine’s spiked armor had crushed them flat. The plasma pistol still smoked in John’s hand. John looked down to the left where the traitor’s blade had pierced his kidney. Blood pooled around him where he sat, the warmth contrasting with the cool stone wall at his back.

John closed his eyes and leaned his head back, waiting for the end to come. From behind he heard the heavy footfalls of power armor. Opening his eyes, he quietly readied his pistol. Another black armored marine walked around the corpse-strewn battlefield, checking the bodies of the dead. John struggled silently to gather the strength to lift his arm. Finally managing to lift the gun he heaved it onto the armor of the body in front of him with a clank. The marine spun at the noise, red fires burning in the eyes of his skull like helm. The marine advanced faster than John could have conceived, if not for the events that had lead to the body which lay before him. John pulled the trigger, but the weapon did not fire, growing warm with the heat it burned off the first quarter inch of flesh on the inside of John’s hand. John did not scream, the heat burned too hot and too fast for the pain receptors to even recognize. The marine stood over John in silence.

“Why don’t you just kill me, you traitorous ,” John spat out, “You had no problem butchering my men.”

<I am not your enemy, John,> The words seemed to press themselves into John’s mind. <I am here to offer you a choice.>

“I would rather die, for the God Emperor and for the Imperium, a thousand times over, than serve with traitors!” John couldn’t shout, but the hate was there.

<You very well may, John. I am not asking you to abandon the Imperium, I am asking for you to allow it to abandon you. I ask you to join me, not to destroy the Imperium but to save it. Look at my armor; it is not of your enemy. It bears the holy aquila and no trace of mutation nor ill allegiance.> The telepath paused to allow his meaning to sink into the dying soldier’s mind. <So, I ask you, will you join me and be reborn to fight anew the fiercest enemies of mankind? Will you forsake all that you hold dear, even your individual humanity, so that others might retain theirs? Will you fight the eternal war against the enemies of mankind, without hope of the friendship, or even the tolerance, of those you protect?>

“I accept your offer, although I don’t see how you plan on saving me,” John answered with grim resolution. “For the Emperor!” John coughed out weakly as he slumped forward passing out from his wounds.

“His will be done,” said Vigilo, under his breath.

*2*

“That is the third recruit we have lost to this geneseed. Why this one; the others seemed to have worked fine.” Choragius said with some dismay.
“Geneseed six seems to be inherently unstable. It is being rejected by the subject’s body,” Sanos replied, “I need more samples to fix the problem. From the nature of the mutations the base seems to be from that lone wolf’s body. Even after I increased the protein feeds by five-fold the subject burns through it far too quickly. If we are lucky we can find the vessel you detected.”

“The Ironwolf?”

“Yes, it seems the Space Wolves are the most likely to name a ship such.”

“And when we find it?” Vigilo added as he walked into the room.

“I suppose we follow it along and question one one of its occupants on his own,” said Sanos, somewhat hesitantly.

“Best be polite about it,” said Vigilo, his eyes blank.

*3*

“The geneseed we implanted in test-slave six seems to be highly unstable. Due to the nature of the complications, I believe that the Space Wolves hold the key to solving this problem. The ship we passed, the Ironwolf, sounds like it may be a good place to start.”

“No, Sanos, we do not know how long the Sensei field will allow us to stretch our time. I need you to focus on developing and duplicating the geneseed that is functional. Hopefully this flaw will be contained to that particular geneline. Make sure you keep it quarantined. Feel free to work on it when you have spare time, but we cannot waste too many resources on it. Sometimes culling may be necessary. Do you have any other news for me?” Marcade. finished

“Yes, on a personal note, your body seems to be responding well to th procedure. Also the first few recruits are soon to be ready. John in particular seems to be eager to test his abilities.”

“Thank you, let me know when they are ready. Now you must excuse me, Choragius seeks my attention.”

*4*

Choragius’s Log: The Poor

Our plan is working it seems. We captured the rhino. The neophytes didn’t even take a single casualty. But that poor creature, lost in the warp twice the time it’s been missing, had gone completely mad. I had to tear out it’s vox just to silence it’s shrill screeching. I bound it. I gave it purpose using profane rituals that have fully and irrevocably separated me from Mars and from the Omnissiah. I walk a darker path now. I have made this beast my willing hound. May we bend it back toward some semblance of noble purpose in our endeavor.

*5*

“Well done brothers, we have taken the traitor’s stronghold, you have fought valiantly today,” Marcade spoke clearly but his mind was troubled. <What happened out there? Twelve of our brothers turned into monsters and tore the enemy limb from limb. I saw it myself.>

Some hoorahs emanated from the assembled battle brothers all clad in black and gold. <It appears to be a reaction with the warpstorm that hit the battlefield. Some of it was similar to what happened to the attempts we made with the sixth geneseed. They grew fur, claws, and fangs and tore into the enemy. The others were perhaps stranger; I will tell you more when I know it. I’m sorry Sanos cannot express it to you himself, but he needs to focus.> Vigilo’s mind impressed the importance of Sanos’s work along with this sentiment.

“Take down the dedications to their foul gods; we do not want them watching us. Our long war has begun. Afterwords attend to your weapons and armour, see Choragius if anything is in need of large repairs. Get some rest but remember that we need to march on soon.” The assembled battle brothers dispersed to their various duties. Marcade went to the kitchen which had been turned into a makeshift medicae.

The walls were scoured black; all of the old blood had been sanitized only to find new blood beginning to take its place. But instead of from sacrifices this was from their own brethren. Twelve marines were strapped to either beds or walls. Eleven were relatively quiet, one was screaming. Sanos was working stooped over him at the workbench while Vigilo stood over them with his hand holding the marine’s head down. The black and gold of the marine’s armour was tinted pink with what, on further inspection turned out to be skin and blood lacing their way through the armour. Marcade spoke, “By the Emperor, what is it?”

Sanos, covered in blood spatter, finished another cut through the shoulder joint of the marine on the table before answering. “His flesh has fused with his suit of armour, it is one of those we scavenged from one of our first forays onto this planet,” Sanos had to yell to overcome the screaming. “I am attempting to remove it but I fear we will have to tear off the upper layer of flesh and just wait for it to regrow.”

“And the rest of them?”

“Some instability in the genesplicing has changed them, though most seem still able to function. I don’t think there is anything I can do to fix it. They came from mostly different gene lines so I cannot tell you if any in particular are corrupted.”

“Let me think,” Marcade thought while Sanos continued to cut away at the marine on the table. The grinding of powersaw through flesh and ceramite mixed with the screams, now grown horse even through the enhanced vocal cords of the subject. When Marcade spoke again the words were bitter on his tongue but still carried the dire weight of his authority, “Vigilo, you will guard these men’s minds and souls as best as possible. Find somewhere to keep them away from the rest of the brethren so that they do not contaminate them or cause them to doubt. We will outfit them as best we can and send them to the vanguard. Let them know what to expect, death by one means or another. They deserve to know that though their lives may only end in damnation, they have the right to serve the Emperor until that doom. Meanwhile, Sanos, once you finish here, continue to use the test slaves to replicate the geneseed, we will need much more of it to replace those lost to this cull.”

***

[Teetengee]

Edited Chapter 2 Section 1 because I don't know if I am supposed to say certain words on this forum. Which mod should I speak to to ask if it is ok for the fanfics?

[Chronotonic]

it seems that most of the people that will become astartes for this chapter are full grown men that have lived a life of some sort in the name of the Imperium...then had their age almost reversed-...per-say...then given implants and turned into Astartes to live for the Imperium again...

 

interseting...

[Teetengee]

Cough dust cough: Added Chapter 2 section 2, also fixed spelling.

[deathspectersgt7]

Has been an interesting read, look forward to reading more.

[Teetengee]

Thanks Deathspecter. Also I fixed some formatting. Also, I actually have had one other section written for a while, but we haven't gotten there yet. Do my readers want me to put it up anyways?

[Teetengee]

In light of some discussions on the Space wolves forum, and some grammar, I have made some edits to Chapter 2 section 2. Also added Chapter 2 Sections 3 and 4. I will standardize format when I can.

[Teetengee]

Added chapter 2 section 5 (I call it the cull).

[Lagrath]

Cool stuff. Just FYI, I have been calling my DIY loyalists Storm Reavers for about 15 years and I think I registered them in the DIY name databases here and some other websites, even had a website at one point, so if you run across anything from that don't think I am ripping you off :-P

[Teetengee]

Cool stuff. Just FYI, I have been calling my DIY loyalists Storm Reavers for about 15 years and I think I registered them in the DIY name databases here and some other websites, even had a website at one point, so if you run across anything from that don't think I am ripping you off :-P

No worries. Although if anything I would be flattered if you had. Also, wow I should come back to this some time.

Edited some stuff to make it read better.