Imperium Ascendant

Chapter Twenty-Six: They Came From the Stars

Date: 802.M30

Location: The Primarchs Quarters, Imperial Palace, Terra.

Every family develops an internal cipher composed of shared memories and experiences. Words that can communicate complicated meaning easily, or conjure up crucial events. This is true of all families, including the Emperor of Mankind's. When the Imperial household spoke of "The Argument", those belonging to that pedigree clan knew of what exactly you referred to. It was the day when the nascent Master of Mankind quarreled bitterly with his teenage sons. It was the day when a small but noticeable schism opened up in the Royal Family over what would be eventually known as the Xeno Issue.

Like so many arguments within a family, it originated when the young and brash challenged the views of their elders, a time-honored tradition found even in a family of demigods. Marcus Augistio, Primarch of the XIII found something in the scraps of human history Malcador and his father had managed to preserve. He discovered records of ancient alliances, friendships, and coexistence between Xeno and Humans. Worlds where a dozen species, including humanity, lived in peace for thousands of years. Pacts of mutual defense between stellar federations and alien civilizations were honored by both sides a dozen times over. Marcus read stories of love, kindness, and coexistence utterly anathema to the lessons in Xenocide he and his brothers were taught. It shook the XIII Primarch to his core, this idea that some Xeno's might warrant mercy was outside the world view his tutors and family had instilled in him.

At the same time, Marcus also found many other sources that vindicated his Father's viewpoint. He and his fellow bookish siblings poured over accounts of atrocities and betrayals describing literally inhuman evil. Isolated human colonies kept as livestock, diplomatic envoys returned in a dozen pieces yet still capable of screaming, refugee ships directed towards Orkish territory, and most damning of all, the actions of the Aeldari Empire in the lead up to its harrowing fall. These stomach-churning texts painted a picture of a hostile and violent galaxy teeming with abominable organisms slithering across the void, in search of helpless prey. Further sources muddied the truth even more, with damaged text, contradictory accounts, and centuries of missing context.

Ultimately Marcus and his closest brothers in this regard decided to speak to the Emperor. They wished to get an answer from him, to try and understand why he wrote off all Xenos as monsters when some were clearly not. Alexio, Konrad, Marcus, Magnus, and Kota, the II, VIII, XIII, and XIX Primarchs respectively sought answers from their father. To this end, they amassed knowledge and came to the Emperor in his private study, seeking an audience and an explanation. As the ringleader of this effort, Marcus initiated the conversation, asking for the Emperor's time. With his father's permission, his brothers entered the ornate office of the Imperator, home to countless other curious relics, including the strange fossilized skull that eventually fell into Baraca's possession. Knowing the time of the Emperor is precious and not wanting to avoid the question at hand, Marcus opened the discussion with a blunt question: "Father, why do you aim for the destruction of all Xenokind, when some are salvageable and even worthy of our protection?"

The Emperor did not react at first. He sat at his desk, lost in thought, a distinctly human expression for one so far removed from his parent species. Each Primarch saw something different looking upon their father. Marcus saw the great statesmen who had governed empires and guided civilization. Magnus saw the eldest and most powerful Magi, keeper of secrets and wisdom beyond comprehension. Konrad and Kota saw opposite sides of the same coin, the ultimate judge and source of justice and vengeance. Alexio saw the curious adventurer who had weathered countless storms and charted courses never before imagined. Those interpretations were all equally valid, only grasping part of the whole, yet all five of them saw something similar in response to Marcus's question. For just a brief moment the handsome bronze face of their father seemed to wither, centuries of age marked him for just a second. His posture at the desk became a stooped elder, held down by countless worries and miseries. Those fateful eyes that flashed dark brown or shining gold seemed to glaze over with exhaustion and sadness. His mouth froze in a rictus of both anger and resentment, with just a hint of regret. The change lasted a mere moment and any mortal man would have not noticed the crack in the Emperor, but it did not escape his sons.

Slowly the man once called Revelation, now known as Imperator, rose up from his desk. The shadow of some old pain still traced his face, but he hid it well. "Come, let us go to the Courtyard, summon your brothers." the Emperor whispered softly, almost too low for unaugmented ears to hear. "we shall discuss this as a family. All of you will hear my explanation and understand it."

At the Emperor's summons, the twenty Primarchs assembled, joining the Emperor at the small amphitheater within the greenspace in their quarters. It was an elegant thing, carved from old stone, a place for young Demigods to practice rhetoric and debate each other. Now the Primarchs sat in the audience, awaiting their father's words. Revelation took his place at the focus of the Amphitheater. Gazing up at his children he was reminded of the thousands upon thousands of such speeches and lectures he had given over the centuries. He was Revelation, and to bring about understanding was his nature. A duty the Emperor had long cherished and missed. How many millennia has it been since he could focus on showing humanity the truth, instead of protecting them from it?

The topic of this debate had been made known to all twenty brothers. The subtle divide among the Primarchs was a clear indication this discussion had been going for some time before Marcus had decided to get him involved. Marcus and Alexio were chief advocates for diplomacy and openness on the Xeno problem. Eddard and Tyric followed their father's path, lacking patience for their sibling's perceived foolishness. The majority of the Primarchs did not strongly align with either faction, finding the debate an amusing distraction. Now it was time for this casual discussion to enter its next phase.

Moving to a simple stone throne, the Emperor ceded the amphitheater to his thirteenth son. Calmly, the Emperor asked for Marcus to explain his position. Relate the information he had discovered in the Imperial archives and his opinion on it to the assembled demigods. The XIII Primarch did so with the rhetorical skill and poise one might expect of him. His genetic and psycho-spiritual heritage traced back to the Eternal City and its millennia of political intrigue. Marcus laid out a case for tolerance and coexistence with other sapient species, stating mankind is not the only race of beings struggling against the encroaching darkness. Other potential allies and subjects dwelt out in the void and could be aided by the Great Crusade. It was in mankind's best interest to make as many friends as the Imperium could in a galaxy full of enemies.

Marcus argued with a perfect mixture of ethos, logos, and pathos. He argued that it was the duty of the Primarchs to protect every being in the galaxy worthy of their aegis. He and his brothers have a moral imperative to aid all they could. Additionally, every bolt spent eradicating a potentially useful vassal was one not aimed at the true horrors of the galaxy. Why should the Imperium spend valuable resources in places diplomacy and soft power might be used for more constructive ends? These proposed avenues of unity had worked before Old Night, why would they not in the coming dawn? Marcus listed off accounts of close Xeno allies recorded from the Golden Age, relating the millennia-long friendship and alliance between the Third Solar Federation and Xeno cultures like the Xo'rani-kur, Plankit Alliance, Neo-Vori League, and 10011010 Commonality.

The XIII Primarch ended his speech, his logic impeccable and rhetorical skill unquestionable. So as he finished, whirling to meet his Father's eyes, Marcus's twin hearts sank. A look of weary sadness touched with what might have been pity shrouded the Emperor. Slowly, the ancient elderly god known as Revelation took back the amphitheaters focus and gestured for Marcus to sit. The weight of millennia hung on the Emperor's shoulders, the weight of countless sins both past and future apparent on the normally timeless and indomitable Anathema. The Emperor spoke with simple plain words, not even attempting to match his son's display.

"Marcus you speak logically, and with great reason and understanding, but you lack the full picture by no fault of your own. The records do not speak of the fate of mankind's Xeno allies. Do you or any of your brothers care to guess what happened in the end?"

"Did they betray us when the Age of Strife began? Is that the missing piece?" Marcus responded cautiously. "Forgive my blunt words father, but it's insufficient in my eyes to take an ugly moment from an ugly era to characterize an entire species. You yourself have spoken of how barbaric and horrible elements of humanity have become in the Old Night. Why should we so disregard the circumstances of a calamity we ourselves barely survived?"

With a single firm gesture, the Emperor silenced Marcus, the stern Judge of countless worlds and cultures suddenly looking upon his sons. With no emotion, the Emperor answered his son.

"No, the betrayals we experienced during the collapse were by far perpetuated by vile Aliens little better than Orks and similar. Spared by misguided compassion and overconfidence in humanity's genius, they struck in the moment of weakness as was their nature. The beings you bring up, the long time allies of mankind did not betray us as the myths would have you believe. In truth, they betrayed themselves. They went utterly insane with the horror of an encroaching Dark Age and the laughter of a Thirsting God. Humanity was not the only one to experience the horrors of a sudden explosion of psykers."

Leaning back into the carved stone throne the Emperor shut his eyes and remembered darker days. "The Xo'rani-kur had no concept of hate, they were kind gentle beings who narrowly survived the first contact with the Orks thanks to humanity's aid. They loved and lived as close to pacifist ideals as one can. So when the madness of Chaos came, when one in a billion psychic spawnings became one in a million and a thousand times more powerful, they lacked the cruelty to push back against the monsters. Their homeworld burned for seven solar months in a multicolored fire in the end. Parents would not and could not fight back as Neverborn wearing their children's scales as masks ate them alive. The Warp in their home sector still reeks of the despair and pain the Xo'rani-kur experienced."

Distant tragic memories flowed from Revelation as he thought back to long ended tragedies.

"Other species with the strength to fight back often fared little better. The 10011010 Commonality blurred the lines of social and eusocial behavior. The great web of their silicon-based neural matrixes cracked when countless Warp storms manifested in PA6's afterbirth. Each cracked and isolated segment fought so hard to unify with the whole, to help each other at the cost of themselves. In the end, the Commonality stretched themselves too thin and paid the price. One of the first WAAAGH since the Cullings ended, crushed them to dust."

"I don't know if any of you knew this, either from the records or speaking with Malcador, but the Orks were the first sapient alien species humanity encountered. My own efforts to prepare humanity for that dreadful possibility were almost not enough." the Emperor continued in a monotonous chant of grim data and horrible memories. "The ancient Cylinder and Cyro Ships had been lucky. The found innumerable worlds fit for habitation, misplaced inheritance from the Old Ones and Aeldari that could, and would, fill the galaxy with life. Those ancient predictions in the days of Drake and Fermi were laughably inaccurate. Life is common in our galaxy, but so is death. The Greenskins act as the ultimate filter of sapient life. Without fail, they will destroy those without a great capacity for violence from the face of the cosmos. This galaxy is the brutalized remnants of a no-man's land from a war millions of years ago, filled with countless horrors unleashed by that dreadful conflict. To survive the unbound weapons of that war, successful sapient life must be capable of profound cruelty and viciousness."

Before Marcus could respond the twins spoke, using Alpharius's voice but sharing the same mind and soul. "What are you saying, father? How do the Orks and psychic awakening relate to the policy of Xenocide?"

An utterly out of character grimace flickered over the Emperor's features before he responded to his youngest sons. "In the days before the Age of Strife, when the Primordial Annihilator barely stirred, and when the fickle Aeldari still culled the Greenskins, it was possible for sane, righteous species to survive in this galaxy. That is not the case any longer. The Warp is now fully awake, stirred into a festering nightmare not seen in millions of years by PA6's birth. Products of countless fallen empires and long-forgotten conflicts stalk the stars. Time is running out, the Star-Eaters and their slaves awaken soon. Now, this galaxy can only produce broken and foul sapients, subject to the whispers of Chaos and similar predation. The galactic Dark Age we call Old Night is not unique to mankind. Every other civilization and species not already enslaved by Chaos or destroyed by the Age of Strifes calamities have been mutilated."

Pausing the Emperor pulled a hefty tome from his tunic's folds. With a slight telekinetic push, he levitated the book over to his sons. The Chronicles of Ursh fell into Marcus's lap and opened to a page describing the forces of Overlord Kalagann himself. Armies of Daemonhosts, Gene-Drinking Cyber-Strigoi, Wraithsinger Necromancers, Shackled Silica Intelligences, and even stranger things beyond written description. Watching the Primarchs look over the pre-unification text, the Emperor continued. ȓἈΝОᛒĘṨ

"The Old Night has reduced much of mankind to horrible monsters. Abominations unfitting to be called Homo Sapian infest many worlds and engage in foul heresy on incredible scales. Ursh was just one example of these degenerate human cultures. It and others like it are what humanity will devolve into if we do not salvage what we can in the Great Crusade. With hindsight, we can look back at how I bested Kalagann and wiped Ursh from the face of Terra, but it was no certain thing. On more than one occasion, the fate of the homeworld hung by a thread. Any battle I personally fought I could win, but I cannot be everywhere at once. City-states sworn to my banner were reduced to corrupted ash at every opportunity the Urshites saw, the alliance I later consolidated into the early Imperium almost collapsed at least twice. If it had, Terra would have been swallowed piecemeal by Ursh, ensuring mankind's damnation."

Staring at the Primarchs with a dread focus, Revelation growled. "That was the situation here on Terra, on a planet under the direct protection of an Anathema. In a situation, I had prepared for and anticipated to a degree. I have groomed mankind to survive the horrors of this cosmos over my lifetime, ensuring we were strong and cruel enough to survive the Orks and Chaos, yet still worthy of existing. I've guided the genetic and cultural development of this species to walk a razor's edge between weakness and strength. I tempered our worst nature but never letting humanity be its best version. By my will bloody wars, countless atrocities, and multiple genocides have occurred. All were done to ensure humanity might survive. All of that effort and horror to keep a single species on the golden path. That is what it took to keep the Age of Strife from swallowing Humanity whole. Leaving enough for us to salvage after a disaster the likes not seen since the War in Heaven's end. Mankind faces a perilous path to avoid extinction, the presence of Xenos makes that path even more difficult. It is a risk I cannot allow us to take, the fate of trillions rests on our ability to sacrifice what we must."

The bitter anger and spite that washed off the Emperor were unlike anything the Primarchs had ever seen. The normal golden radiance of the Human Anathema's being shifted. From the glow of sunlight and polished gold to the sterile sick shine of white-hot radiation. The Emperor's true name of Atham translates into Revelation, the one who lays bare. And at that moment a part of the Emperor's nature was revealed to his sons. He was an immortal monster who intended to break the universe to his will and force the very cosmic into subservience. Defy fate, reason, morality, mortality, and everything else in the name of enforcing his vision. A part of Revelation no less true than the Ancient Sage, Eternal Warrior, Divine Father, or any other aspect the Primarchs and other witnesses have seen. The Emperor intended to save the human race at any cost. The ugly truth of that fact and what it might mean was sobering for the Primarchs.

"If the Age of Strife has caused such damage, what about Xeno's born after it or too young to be affected by it?" Tengri Khagan, the stoic Vth Primarch asked. "Such youthful species might reach compliance easily, sparing bloodshed and a stain on our honor. Our duty is to protect humanity, should that not also include protecting its soul?"

Slowly the anger faded from the Emperor's face as he responded. "To protect humanity's soul is exactly why we can have no tolerance for the Xeno. I cannot protect alien intellects in any fashion. Not in life or death, and methods of detecting corruption are not universal across species. Each Xeno alive and in contact with humanity is a potential vector for Chaos or other infections."

Cutting off Tengri before he could respond the Emperor continued. "Even if we develop foolproof methods of stopping corruption in such vassal races we would face more mundane threats from them. No sapient species would accept subservience to something fully Alien. The accounts of Xeno's treachery after the Iron War are exaggerated but there were some truly horrible betrayals. Malcador and I estimate the Great Crusade will only be the beginning of the coming wars. If we are lucky, humanity will only face fifteen thousand solar years of unending warfare. The potential dangers of 'loyal' Xeno vassals might destroy us all. The Shining Path is so precariously thin, any such distractions might end in the death of not just humanity but the entire Universe. The Primordial Annihilator is rising, the Star Gods will not sleep for much longer and the Great Devourer stalks between galaxies. So much work lies before us, becoming distracted by such hypotheticals serves no purpose."

With unexpected venom Konrad Cruze interjected. "What's the point of surviving all of this if humanity just ends up as monstrous as the things my brothers and I were born to kill? After countless Xenocides and aborted timelines, mankind would become so tainted that it would be like nothing we did matters. Why stop the Yngir, Chaos or anything else if all we do is replace them with a version of humanity as brutal and vicious as them? Why not just fight for the best possible fate of the most humans, instead of aiming for a nearly impossible endgame that will drown the galaxy in blood?"

For three seconds, forty-two hearts stopped. Sheer rage poured off the Emperor of Mankind in waves of fury. It was enough to stun the Primarchs, knockout nearby servants, and permanently kill half a dozen minor Daemons hiding in the Warp near Terra. An intensity that had literally cracked Planets and tore Stars from the firmament was turned on the Primarchs for a few terrible moments. In a voice, they more felt than heard the Master of Mankind growled out a response.

"Because death is eternal, extinction cannot be reversed. It eliminates every possibility of a being's future. Including the most important thing any who sin or fail can do. Redeem themselves. If the monsters in the dark are allowed to win it will make every struggle against them pointless. Every life lost, soul broken, mind wounded in the efforts to stop those myriad evils would have been wasted. If humanity wins and finally exiles the nightmares into myth, then the true work can begin. The universe could be rebuilt in a better image, planting the seeds of Paradise across a billion galaxies. Every atrocity, every death might be redeemed by a trillion better lives."

Soon the anger dissipated and a rare bit of insight into the Emperor of Mankind became apparent. He could not give up, he had given so much and done so many things in this pursuit of a redeemed Galaxy. For close to forty thousand years, a single human had stood virtually alone against the worst possible things imaginable. He was a scared, exhausted old man trying with all his might to protect those he cared about at any cost. A being who would do anything to save the species entrusted to him, only seeking the reward of a peaceful rest when his charge was safe. Like the ancient Gyptian Prince he had guided through the desert the Emperor knew he would not live to see the promised land, only long enough to ensure his people's journey was at an end.

The shock was evident on the Twenty Brothers' faces. It is the nature of their Father to reveal and illuminate, and nothing can be as great and terrible as the Truth. Seeing the surprise and feeling a twinge of guilt, Revelation regained his composure and looked at the floor and the planet beneath him. Feeling the ages of life and death below, a billion-year history of the homeworld echoing in the spiritual galaxy of the Emperor. In a sad bitter voice, painfully human in its tone he spoke.

"Even if there was a way, even if we could save some precious few Xenos, it is only delaying the inevitable. The Shining Path is one mankind cannot share. How loyal and supportive will our allies and vassals be when they learn there can only be one ascendant species? Oh, my sons, we argue over hypotheticals and theoreticals when destiny is already written in this regard. It's better to just wipe the Alien out now when mankind is still savage enough to stomach the deed"

The Primarchs knew their father hid secrets and mysteries beyond even them. Hints of which they were only just starting to see. Even Marcus started to wonder what dreadful visions and facts was the Emperor privy to that made him so certain of this grim proclamation. Silence filled the amphitheater for a long moment until the Magi shattered it. Magnus Rubicar, the XV Primarch spoke with adamant confidence: "You are wrong father."

Standing up, the destined Master of the Golden Throne turned his gaze to the Emperor and continued. "This is just like our first conversation, the one before my birth. All your knowledge and power, and yet you only see the options before you. Fate, destiny, impossibilities are all the talk of the Gods. Not of what you are, what we are. We are human and in the face of two bad options, we make a third. That's why you created us, is it not father? To do the impossible? So why not let us try in this regard. Even we do not have the right to condemn entire species on theory and prediction. We might not have a solution now, but we will find one. Let us judge the Xeno on their own merit."

Letting out a deep sigh, the Master of Mankind did what all parents must eventually do. He began to acknowledge his children might have knowledge and insight that he lacked. "You speak true Magnus, we will defer the Xeno question to see if another answer is found. Until then, use your judgment in the coming wars. But be warned: if any spared Xenobreed proves unworthy of your mercy, then passing judgment and facing the consequences of such failings will fall to you. I hope none of you experience what I have, standing over a world burned by one spared in an act of kindness."

As the discussion finished the Emperor hoped that when the inevitable consequences of this leniency came it would fall within his more favorable predictions. If his sons needed to learn this lesson through fire and iron so be it. He just hoped by the end they would forgive him, and themselves.

Date: 888.M30. (One Solar Month after the Battle of Tragedy)

Location: The Crypt Huaca aboard The Righteous Fury, Flagship of the XII Legion.

She had died sometime after Baraca entered Shellmounte Nonus. Hidamia the Brave passed on in the company of a few close attendants and long-serving Astartes guards. Sharp and strong-willed until the very end, she listened to the battle reports as she entered her final moments. As victory was announced and her adopted son's acceptance of the Trileen's offer of surrender and negotiation became known, Hidamia the Brave had been born a slave, fought for her freedom, and lived a life of honor and dignity. Now that life that had helped shape a Demigod ended. Her official last words were recorded as "Only in death does duty end." as according to Imperial tradition. But only her closest aide and friend holding her hand at the end heard the second sentence. One that was saved for her son alone. "Be more than a great man Baraca, be a good one."

A message that the XII Primarch had taken to his very core. A message that echoed in his mind as the Primarch looked at the simple urn where his mother's remains rested until they could be cast into the recently revived Atlan Ocean of Terra. Speaking to a memory that would live eternal in his divine mind Baraca Themistar spoke. "The Trileen have gladly accepted our terms and are already crafting crude Aquilia flags out of coral dyes. The Orks are gone and we are moving to meet with Horus and Iskandar pushing deeper into the Wastes. Ogadin is moving to help the Abhuman coreworlders, Culian and Kota are pushing in as well. And who knows where Tengri and his sons have gotten to. Sorry for making this sound like a military report Mother. It's just hard to say this and I'm stalling. Thank you for everything, goodbye and I will always love you"

Wiping away the beginning of a tear forming in the corner of his eye, the Warhound of Mankind felt his emotions come and then fade as he centered himself. Looking down at his left hand, the scar his father's gift had created itched painfully. Reacting to his intense emotions for some unknown reason. Taking a deep breath Baraca left the Crypt and went to join his sons. There were oaths yet to be fulfilled and duties to be carried out.

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