Weapons of the Emperor, Chapter 1

“This is Magos-Biologis Harlon Gayl of forge world Ryza, calling for assistance. I am in command of Exploratory Fleet 1101, positioned in high orbit over Imperial world TF19-38, Uhulis sector, Segmentum Tempestus. My forces are under attack by an unknown Xenos assailant. We cannot accurately measure their numbers, nor can we seem to fend off their assaults. We require immediate support from Astartes force of company strength at the least. We have recovered biological data which cannot be allowed to fall into Xeno hands.”

    The message ended, and the room filled with the harsh noise of Vox-static. Every man present stood in quiet contemplation, sizing up the situation. They were all officers of the legion, as was evident not only by their size, and the ornamented cloth tied over their ruined eyes, but by the air of quiet authority that surrounded them. They were composed, even in the face of dire news, not one muscle fiber twitched involuntarily. They thought over every angle of what the call they had heard might mean without saying a word. They waited for the right to speak to be passed to them.

    Behind them, sat two plain, but massive figures. Both possessed a wiry build, lean and muscled, not nearly as bulky as most other space marines. One, even sitting, could look even the tallest man in the eyes. He wore only a simple robe of cotton and silk, both materials the purest white. And across his eyes, he wore a blue ribbon that covered the ruined mass of scars, old augmentics, and the sightless white orbs they surrounded. His head was recently shaven, and his body was neatly groomed. He even glowed, just a little, as the wells of energy that infused him leaked out as light. He was Ayumu Haruka, warden of Arashi Tatara, Master of the Sightless, Primarch of the Sons of Thunder.

    At his right sat the other figure. She was shorter, but only by a slight margin. She had a long mane of neat raven-black hair to frame her face. Her eyes were uncovered, and colored of the purest green. The resemblance between her and her father was uncanny. She was Asano Haruka, the firstborn of the Primarch.

    Ayumu spoke first, as was his right. “This message has been authenticated as a sanctioned request for aid.” His voice cut the silence, and illuminated the room. “Our seers detected the astropathic signal in the Empyrean just three hours ago, until now, only they and I have known about this.” There were a few unsure shifts in posture, subtle signs of discontent and uncertainty that the officers dared not give voice to. “We used the fragments caught by all of the seers, and my own observations to reconstruct that message.” he gave the appropriate pause to allow one of the officers the opportunity to speak.

    Shuzuko, captain of the Hayabusa Chapter spoke up first. “Lord, How far away is this fleet?” Haruka let the light around him shift its color and dim; it was his way of silently asking someone to explain themselves, few of the men could see it, but all of them could feel the psychic resonance, and recognize the feeling. Asano knew that her father understood full well why Shuzuko had asked his question, and he only did this to prompt his captains to speak more boldly in his presence. “I ask lord, because I suspect that we may be unable to reach this fleet in time to render our aid.” He swallowed a mouthful of nervous saliva and continued, “The warp travel alone may take us years if the distance is too great.”

    Ayumu did not respond immediately, and a different captain opened his mouth to speak, only to shut it immediately as the Primarch’s aura changed color again. Ayumu said, “I have consulted the star-charts, and The world in question, TF19-38, known to the locals as Hryðjuverkum is four months warp travel away.” He was calm and confident as he spoke. his tongue never stumbled, not even over the bizarre, alien word he called the planet. Everyone paused again to contemplate this new information.

The captain who wanted to speak earlier seized his chance now and asked, “Will there be any survivors to rescue if we reach them four months after their distress call?” His voice marked him as Captain Tukora, master of the Toru Chapter. “Their adversaries are unrecognized and capable of doing battle with explorator class vessels, we may encounter nothing but wreckage.” He kept his voice level and controlled, but his uncertainty bled into the thoughts of every one of the psykers who were listening to his soul in addition to his mind.

    Ayumu smirked, and replied in a mischievous tone, “But, this message has not yet been sent.” There were one or two muffled gasps, and more slight nods of approval. “Our seers were listening to the whispers of prophecy, and by a stroke of luck, we heard this before it was sent.” He straightened his posture and said, “In two months time, this message will be sent, and in six months, the nearest space marine force will mobilize to respond. We can be there first, before any other part of the empire knows of this tragedy.” He paused to collect his thoughts, or at least to give the appearance of collecting his thoughts. Asano knew that he was almost giddy with excitement, but he wanted to assuage the fears of his captains, for he had only been reunited with the legion for a scant few years, and the legion was slow to trust.

    “When I came to you, your eyes were failing, your honor was smeared, and your victories were few.” Every syllable was resonating with psychic energy, creating a feeling of calm and confidence that permeated the air. “You were the least appreciated legion under the Emperor’s command, and you wept for the honor you thought you would never see.” He let the colors around him change slightly, and he adjusted the frequency of the psychic vibrations. “I taught you how to unlock the potential locked within your gene-seed, and then I showed you the way of the eyeless sight.” He let his hands move ever so slightly from their meditating position, to rest on his knees, transforming him from a meditating monk to a concerned father. “I rekindled the art of the oracle, and created the Hall of Seers.” He paused, and nudged Asano ever so slightly, using a mote of telekinetic force.

    “But everything that has happened over the last decade was not just my doing.” He smiled slightly and addressed the captains with beaming praise. “You taught yourselves how to fight with the eyeless sight, you created new tools to secure victories for the Emperor, and you built this monastery up from the bones of my old prison.” He did not need to lace his words with emotional conditioners, that sentence alone was more than enough to raise the captains’ spirits. “You have done much, I have done much,” he gestures with his hand towards Asano, “My child has done much.”

    “Now is the time to make use of all of the preparation we have toiled for. We have a chance to redeem ourselves of the unjust skein of our past.” His voice took a harder edge as he said that, making his conviction clear. “We can do something that no other legion can do… We can strike at a foe faster than any of our brothers can, because we know where the enemy will be before they even decide to act.” His aura began to shift and spin with multiple bands of colored lights, in conjunction with his voice rising above a casual speaking tone. “We will save these tech priests, and salvage the data they have recovered, and crush the foes that is striking at them.” He stopped. and let the bands of light around him slow down, calming himself and everyone around him.

    Asano was impressed by her father’s gusto. She had spent her whole life around him, yet she had not seen him become that energetic before. In all circumstances, he was calm, controlled, and very measured. But in that last burst of speech, he almost shouted in excitement. It was fair to say, that this conflict may yet be the first victory for the Sons of Thunder since their reunion with their Primarch.

    Ayumu, composed once more said, “I have conferred with the Fabricator General, and he has confirmed that Magos Biologis Harlon Gayl is investigating the indigenous species on TU19-38, he has found a mutational deviation of the human species that is highly resistant to foreign toxins and chemicals. the last update that Mars received claimed that he was on the edge of a breakthrough in adapting this resistance to Space Marine Physiology.” He let that information sink in. The captains knew what was at stake here, if this information was brought back to Terra, all Space Marines could be improved, and the honor of the second legion would be restored.

    Before anyone could volunteer to lead the mission, he said quickly, “Asano will lead this response.” That caught many of the captains off guard. They knew that a Scion was tantamount to nobility in most legions, but they had never seen her command before, nor had many of them see her fight. In an army of seers, she was an unknown factor. “She will choose who shall accompany her on this mission, the rest of you shall be divided into six tactical response detachments, deployed across the sector.” He paused, again, only for effect. “I will remain here to guide the seers, and coordinate the legion’s efforts from afar.” Asano thought she might have heard something strange in that sentence, but it was gone before she could identify it.

    All of the captains nodded in acceptance, burying any feelings of discontent from even the deepest of psychic probings. But Asano still had the eyes she was born with, and she could see the uncertainty on their faces. They didn’t know what to feel, because too much rode on this mission. They had all lead the legion through it’s darkest years, through all of the dishonor and shame that plagued them. they remembered the times when they were unfit to be used as garrison guards due to their eyes, and they wanted nothing more than respect and admiration from the other legions. This made them wary of Asano, she was their Primarch’s daughter; but as far as they knew she was untested in battle.

    Asano considered their doubt, and then looked over each of the assembled captains. Shuzuko was the master of Hayabusa Chapter, and he had many ships under his command, large ones too. Tukora had the battle-tanks of Toru Chapter, which she suspected may not be of use in a boarding action or void campaign. Captain Kogame, commander of Gankona Company was the only one with any experience with complex boarding actions, and his soldiers were very disciplined. The others; Kai, Hiraishi, Tsuki, all had several decades of experience under their belts, and something different to offer to her, but she was not sure which one’s skillsets would be the most useful.

    She was going to engage an enemy in the void, that meant that she needed ships and boarding marines; thus, Shuzuko and Kogame were her logical first choices. But Shuzuko struck her as a man with many worries and doubts. She had no need for a naysmith among her command staff. The other fleet captain, Tsuki, he had some dozen strike cruisers in his fleet, no battle barges or super-heavy carriers, but she suspected that those smaller ships could be used like scalpels to quickly incapacitate a slower enemy. She wanted her force to strike quickly and accurately, withdrawing to regroup and relaunch their assault after every raid. She learned of this strategy from the White Scars, and she believed that it was wiser than standing the path of enemy fire and slugging it out as many other space marines chose to do.

    “I shall take two chapters.” she said this with a soft, lyrical voice, imitating her father as best she could. “Gankona and Bōfūu will accompany me one this.” There were subtle nods of approval and acceptance. It was clear from their faces and surface thoughts that many of the captains would have chosen Shuzoku for his heavier ships and bigger guns, but they saw her reasoning for why she chose who she did.

    Haruka nodded and said, “It has been said, and so it shall be done.” then he raised one finger, and changed the color of his aura; it shifted from amenable green to a more hazy blue. “Asano will take half of each chapter.” She was startled by this caveat, but she understood. “I shall leave the division of each chapter to its master, but know that the marines left behind will be deployed with the rest of the legion into response teams until such a time as we gather here again.” He lowered his finger and finished, “I give you, Asano, three days to prepare, and then you must depart.”

    She nodded in acceptance and understanding. Then Ayumu Haruka, the sightless master, simply vanished from the room with a soft popping sound, as the vacuum of air left in the space where he was filled itself. The captains took this as a sign that they could take their leave, and one by one, they filed out of the room, leaving Asano with her quiet thoughts.

    She sat in her chamber, breathing in the world around her through her mind. The monastery of the Sons of Thunder was at first, built by monks who venerated technology, and the expansion if the mind. They had the whole structure built with psycho-resonant materials inside the walls. There were crystals from the caves of Lokirsandren, wraithbone taken from the ruins of an Eldar warship, and fungal fibers taken from the screaming jungles of Menazoid delta. The whole building thrummed with psychic energy whenever psykers walked inside it, and the echoes of their thoughts carried far. there were no secrets inside the monastery, nothing could be hidden from the senses of the Primarch and his brood. Similarly, the building blocked any attempts to scry from the outside, so the thoughts that were plain to all inside, were concealed to those beyond the walls. The building was built by Psykers, but the monks lost that gift over time, and the monastery served them only as a silent place to ponder the mysteries of the physical world.

    Asano was alone in her chamber, her internal senses were closed off, and she was alone in the silence. It was a comfortable feeling, she was free from the needless rules and traditions that her father had forced upon his legion. They struggled to conform to cultural rules and norms that they had never encountered in their lives, and they were failing. One of her few sources of solace was freedom from it all, being alone in a silent room.

    Around her, there were few mementos of her childhood, it was too brief to have had many happy moments. She and her brothers grew rapidly, and painfully. Their bodies warped and grew far too quickly, and their minds blossomed like dangerous, fiery flower blossoms. Asano was the only child of Clan Haruka who was chosen to become a Scion, only she had the discipline, the control of her mind and body, and the humility to listen to her father. She received the augments, and trained with the legionaries for three years. She rode with the sons of the Khan to learn the ways of other legions. And she studied in the libraries of Magnus to sharpen her mind. Now she was among her own legion, and her own family, and she was to go out on her first command.

    She wanted to feel pride, or joy, or glorious majesty; but her father would see it, and she would be reprimanded for her vanity and childishness. She had loved the wild abandon that the Scars felt as they rode their skyhunters through low orbit onto the battlefield, cutting down the enemy and leaving the survivors with nothing more than the fading sound of their laughter, and the exhaust fumes from their bikes. She had greatly enjoyed the smell of the musty old tomes and scrolls in Magnus’ library, and the daily discoveries she made. She was a better warrior from her time with the White Scars, and a better sorcerer from her time with the Thousand Sons, she only hoped that those made a commander, and a daughter, worthy of her father.

    It was not that he was a hopeless master, whose expectations greatly exceeded the limitations of reality, quite the contrary. He set his expectations for her just out of her reach; if she wanted to meet them, she would have to rise to the challenge, or leap and pray for victory. He loved her, and wanted her to be everything that she could be, so he challenged her to be better. However, Asano could never help but worry that the challenges set before her would soon be insurmountable. Doubt ate at her mind like rats upon carrion, one tiny bite at a time.

    Asano opened her eyes and looked about her room. On one wall, her warplate stood in its maintenance cradle, polished and buffed to a blinding sheen on the white and blue enamel. Hanging next to the cradle was her tiger. She and Ganzorig had hunted that beast across the steppe for two days, and it took them an hour to bring the ferocious creature down with their lances and knives. They had tracked it from horseback, and they tanned its hide on their own. She was rarely without it.

    On a rack on the adjacent wall, her weapons hung in magnetic suspension. The sword and the naginata. The sword was once carried by the master of the legion, it was older than it had any right to be, and in fine shape due to the constant upgrading and modifications its wielders had performed on it. It’s blade was studded with adamantium discs to help it withstand the molecular stresses of its artificer-wrought power field. It had weights added and subtracted to balance it perfectly, it would be clumsy in the hands of a normal human, but to an Astartes, it was an artists tool, as delicate as a paintbrush, and lithe as an eddy of wind. It was a badge of office more than a weapon, it was older than even the thunder warriors, and it was claimed by the legion’s master before the Primarchs were ever conceived. It was the blade of the legion, and the hand that wielded it, wielded the legion. But her father favored the spear, and handed the artifact down to his firstborn without a second though to the symbolic consequences of that action.

    Underneath the gilded sword was her naginata. It was a gift from Dra’Vlas, the sword-smith of Nocturne. They had met on Terra, and he had shocked her with his gentle charms, and his skill with the smithy hammer. She made for him a thought captured inside a psychic medium, impressed by her ingenuity, he forced her the foe-splitter. It was mostly adamantium, taken from the core of a death world. The haft was hollow, and contained seven tubes of mercury. As she swung the baroque weapon, the liquid metal was pulled towards the head of the weapon, not only did this make the head heavier, it also activated the very powerful, and nearly explosive power field. That polearm could rip a terminator to pieces with a few artful strokes.

    On her nightstand she had a pile of picts, some were of her and her brothers in the less painful moments of their childhood, others of her time with the other legions. There were pictures of her preparing her mount before a storm ride. Pictures of her hunkered down behind a wall of ancient tomes. Pictures of her feasting with her fellow Scions after the great hunt. She had the paper squares facing down, so that she could not see the happy memories. She needed to keep her head clear, free from distractions.

    She had the bolt-shell necklace that Ganzorig had strung together for her after her first battle hanging on the handle of her door, a solemn reminder of the joy, and the terror of that battle. On top of her footlocker, she had the Illuminated manuscript that Hermea had let her take from the Library of Prospero, it had not been touched since she had entered the system. None of these mementos brought her the comfort that she sought, because to touch them and read the psychic fingerprints left on them would reveal their secrets to everyone in the monastery, and then they would cease to be special to her.

    There was a rap at her door. She looked, and allowed herself to smile a little. She called out, “Come in.” The door slid inside the wall, and a slight woman walked in. She was not old, but she had to lean heavily on a cane, and her steps were short and shaky. She was dressed plainly, white silk with blue trim all over her, save for the golden diadem on her brow. Asano stood and greeted her, “Mother, it is good to see you.” She walked over and helped her mother to the edge of the bed where she might sit. With her natural Primarch’s genetics, and the Astartes augments, she towered over her mother a whole meter.

    Her mother said, “You are too kind Asano.” Without any ceremony or grace, she fell onto the edge of the bed, relishing the release from the standing-pains. She had borne three living children of a primarch, as well as many unspoken miscarriages, and her lower body was ruined from the experience. Each birth had broken her pelvis, and even with apothecaries overseeing her treatment and care, the bones had not healed properly. She could barely walk, and any time spent on her feet was excruciating.

    She looked up, to stare her daughter in the eyes and she said, her face beaming with pride, “I hear that you will be leading a rescue mission.” Her tone concealed nothing, she was proud of her child, concerned as well, but mostly glad to see her daughter come this far.

    Asano nodded in reply, a warm smile on her lips. She looked around the room briefly and said, “I am glad that I can do this, but I wonder why Father will not lead.” Her mother made a gesture, chastising her for criticizing her father, or her primarch. Asano plunged on without heed, “This is the first military action of the Sons of Thunder under this banner, father should lead it.”

    Her mother said simply, “He is leading it, in his own way.” It was Asano’s turn to give her mother a funny look. She in turn made a face, but couldn’t hold it for long before they both broke down and laughed. Her mother said, once she had regained her composure, “That pelt.” she pointed towards the great white tiger skin in the wall. “You tracked that beast down on Chogoris, yes?”

    Asano nodded, then said, “Yes, with Ganzorig.” She made only a token effort to hide her true emotions as she said his name aloud. Her mother could see the affection in her daughter’s face, and nodded briefly in approval of it.

    She continued, “Of all of the legions you could have studied with, have you ever wondered why you stayed with the two you did?” She had a mischievous edge to her voice, a familiar tone that reminded Asano of her brief childhood.

    Although, come to think of it, Asano had never really given much thought as to why she stayed on the worlds that she did. It made sense to visit Prospero, Magnus and her father were close, and the libraries there helped to strengthen her mind, a weapon that her father knew needed sharpening. Although, with regard to Chogoris, she could see no reason for her father to choose that place. Asano looked to her mother and replied, “I do not know. would you care to enlighten me?”

    Her mother chuckled and said, “Would that I could” softly. Both women laughed, and even after they stopped, the sound could be heard echoing down the hallways, and the walls were vibrating the pulse of psychic energy from Asano. Her mother continued, oblivious to the psychic discharge, “Your father is not without counsel,” she pointed towards her own breast, “And I made that decision.” Asano wasn’t truly surprised, but she was comforted by the knowledge.

     “He consulted his seers,” she continued, “And thought that it would have been best for you to stay with Dorn, or Guilliman.” Asano started to laugh at the thought, but her mother held up a finger and said quickly, “This was after he first considered sending you to stay with Perturabo or Ferrus.” The laughter died in her throat, and Asano was simply confused, and slightly concerned. Before she could even ask ‘why’, her mother kept talking. “He was only concerned with your discipline, and those living machines were his first choice. But he thought it over, and decided that they weren’t good choices because their idea of warfare was standing still and shooting.” She was pantomiming and putting on a stern expression as she explained, which put the smile right back on Asano’s face. “He thought next that you needed to see honor and duty to temper your understanding of discipline.

    “What I told him, and what he listened to was that you didn’t need to reinforce your discipline, but your humanity.” Asano regarded her mother in a new light, she was as crafty as a fox, and she knew her children and her husband better than any of them knew was possible. “I told him to send you to the Space Wolves, so you might experience their wild joy and barbaric glory. That way, when you came home, you would see what we had built, and appreciate it for everything that it is.”

    Asano was shocked. “Mother… The Space Wolves, truly?” she was completely dumbfounded.

    “Of course not!” her mother snapped. The room was silent for a few heartbeats before a grin spread across her face and she said, “I wanted you to go to the White Scars, but if i asked for what I wanted, I wouldn't get it, so I asked for too much.” Asano stared at her mother for a few moments, absolutely awestruck at this revelation. “Asano, I had him send you there, right at the time of the great hunt so that you could learn something about what it means to be a human, as well as what it means to be a space marine.” She stopped talking long enough to look her daughter up and down, taking in her massive body that somehow managed to maintain some supernatural grace. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it, still fixated with her baby girl.

    Asano said, “Well I’m glad that my path took me where it did.” Both women shared the unspoken end to the sentence, and let it drift away before anyone listening in could catch it.
Her mother said, “Ah, but we’ve forgotten why we are here!” She tapped Asano’s knee and said, “Your father is not leading your rescue mission, because he can better help the legion here, leading the seers.” He wants nothing more than to lead a glorious host in the Emperor’s name, and to reclaim the honor that his legion is due. But, we are not like other legions, and we should not act like them.” She straightened her back, and only slightly winced with the pain that brought, “You will be the glorious leader, while your father orchestrates hundreds of simultaneous victories in the Emperor’s name.” She pointed at the sword on the wall, “That is why you carry that weapon, not your father.”

    Much became clear at that moment, hundreds of questions were answered, and her mind was cleared of most of it’s doubt. She felt more at peace right there, on the edge of her bed with her mother, than she had in a very, very long time.