Imperium Ascendant

Book II: The Great Crusade

Chapter Twenty-Three: On Silver Wings

Location: Hossak, Northern Segmentum Obscurus

Date: 890.M30

On a world far from the light of Sol, a small child awoke. The noise of waking birds and insects roused the boy from his slumber. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, Eigen son of Deir disentangled himself from the pile of dirty furs he called a bed and went to start his morning routine. He shared the shabby sleeping hut with his grandmother. She would wake soon and he hoped to get water before then. The old woman had a fierce streak about her and did her best to ignore time's slow advance. Eigen had quickly learned the only way to stop her from doing tasks her body could not handle was doing them himself. The war had claimed both his parents and Grandfather. It was up to Eigen to look after his grandmother now.

Ducking out of their small hovel, the boy walked between dingy huts, carrying a rust-stained pail to the village well. The village did not have a name. Names imply time, value or emotional investment. This was just another in a series of refugee camps created by survivors of the invasion. Every few years, the enemy would get closer and the three hundred or so people of the village would flee farther into the wilderness. This would be Eigen's third village. He lost his father at the first one and his mother at the second. His third would not claim his Grandmother, he could not- would not lose the only family he had left.

After a minute or so of walking, Eigen arrived at the well. It was little more than a hastily built pump using recycled bits of a broken land-car to dredge water up. Exchanging greetings with his neighbors also by the pump, Eigen got in line, patiently waiting for the cobbled-together purifier in the well to excrete cleaned water. The enemy liked bioweapons, they had learned that early on. The camp had an old Defense-Smith who knew who to build stuff like the Well. She was probably what had kept them alive this long. Although in the quiet of the night Eigen heard whisper among the elders. Debate on whether death by poison or the elements might be a better fate than capture.

Waiting in line Eigen's thoughts turned to the stories Grandmother told him. Stories of how people lived before the invasion. How cities filled with more people than a thousand villages gleamed under the world's twin suns. Where food was easy to come by and the occasional street gang or mutant was the biggest threat. Such things seemed impossible to Eigen. Other stories she told though, they seemed painfully real. Of how the invasion started.

How long ago the different nations and peoples of this world lived together. It was not always peaceful and bad things happened, but most of the time the people cooperated and understood each other. Of the nations, Belstadt was one of the most powerful. The Bel civilization ruled a great empire of many people for many years. Until one day, when the Star-Masters arrived. On ships of steel and fire, they came to the Bel. Anointing the old aristocracy with strange power and teaching the Bel to hate. The Star Masters said the Bel was the only one worthy of the power and blessings afforded by them. All other nations and peoples must be broken with iron and blood. Armed with the Star Masters power. The Bel started a war to end all other nations.

With weapons that were neither animal or machine, they broke cities. The ancient fleets of the other Nations vainly battled the Parasyte Ships of the Star Masters in the void. Armies of Bel made stronger and crueler by strange science enslaved entire countries. They sent millions into death camps that fed their war machine. The other nations of the world formed an alliance and fought bravely. Not knowing the Star Masters weapons could kill through more subtle means. Water and Food were tainted. The cruel strength and goals of the Bel infected thousands of free people. Who immediately turned upon family and friends before surrendering themselves to the extermination squads. After nearly three decades of fighting, the powers that be became desperate. They sought salvation or at least evacuation. The best and brightest were drafted to build a fleet of arks. Ships that would take the last of Hossaks free people to a distant star.

It took years but eventually, the exile fleet gathered everyone it could and fled to the stars. Nobody knows what happened to it. Some still prayed that they would return one day, to rescue those they had left behind. Others listened to the Bel propaganda announcements, believing the Ark Fleet was cast into Hell as they ran like cowards. Eigen didn't think the truth mattered all that much. Over a century had passed since then. Year after year, the Free Peoples were ground to dust under the enemy assault. Bel soldiers born and bred for War were pumped out of She-Beasts, women mutated by the Star masters to create more of their chosen people. After many fierce battles and brutal years. The last cities and fortresses of the "inferiors" were stamped out. The fight against the Belstadt Empire collapsed. The Free Peoples were struggling just to survive, hiding and traveling across the wilderness. Fearing the Untehounds of the Bel that hunted them always.

Eigen knew the enemy was all around them. More than once he had hidden in some rocky cove or ruined building, holding his breath as a patrol of Bel Troops marched by. The roving village Eigen belonged to was luckier than most. They had survived on the run for almost two decades. Losing some members to raids or Bel patrols yet still surviving. Even at the tender age of ten, Eigen knew the ugly truth of the village. Eventually, they would be caught. You can't run forever, and the enemy ruled the rest of the planet. With every passing day, more resources would be put to wiping out the last few pockets of "inferiors." As much as the village tried and no matter what Eigen hoped, the enemy would find them. In the end, all they could hope was another day of freedom. Even if the next day was the last, and today would be the last.

Eigen was third in line for the well when the first shot was fired. For a second a whistle filled the air, and then the ground shook. His ears rang and stars floated past his eyes. Eigen had been knocked to the ground by a shockwave. Focus returned to his vision just in time to see a glossy black attack craft hover over the village. Shaped like some foul bug the craft floated by, kept aloft by roaring turbines. Machine and even Flyers were rare but not unheard of for Eigen. Looking up at the eerie craft he got a strange sense. As if it was not truly a machine, but something wearing a machine. The way it moved, how its gun ports scanned the village, or its flaps shifted. Eigen was reminded of the great Arachnids of the Noyn jungle his Grandmother told him about.

At that moment, as he sucked air back into his lungs and fought off the concussion racking his body Eigen made two realizations. The first was that they were under attack, and the second was that he needed to get to Grandmother. With painful slowness, the boy pulled himself to his feet. A staccato of gun-fire cracked through the village. Eigen ducked and felt the heat of bullets fly past him. He watched the rounds slam into the steel sheeting of a nearby hut and bounce off. One dropped to the ground next to him. It was soft, made of some sort of putty. Enough to disable but not kill. The Bel intended to take prisoners. Children in the village were taught from the time they could walk that death was better than being captured

Running between the shacks, he tried to ignore the screams and explosions echoing through the village. Eigen was small and fast, able to dart through buildings and pathways. He was getting close to his hut. A little farther and he could reach Grandmother. A nearby scream brought him to a skidding halt. Hiding behind a flimsy wooden wall. Eigen peaked out from behind the building he sheltered next to. In an open space between huts, which had once served as a meeting place. Over a hundred villagers were corralled together like livestock. Black-armored Bel soldiers guarded them with cruel indifference. Still, more soldiers and untehounds entered the makeshift plaza from other side roads, marching and in some cases dragging captured villagers to their fate.

Eigens neighbors, friends and people were being branded and manacled. The scent of fresh blood and expended ammunition wafted through the camp. The boy did not fully notice either of these things. His attention was stuck on the leader of the Bel. Standing taller than the tallest man he had ever seen, was a thing of nightmares. Human in shape along, it was hairless, dreadfully pale and clad in armor that seemed to fuse with its flesh. Cruel cables of woven veins and fluid tubes traced the nightmare's body. One hand was a collection of sinuous tendrils and manipulators. The other, a chimera of steel, tissue, and bone that was shaped into an alien facsimile of a hand and churigon tools. Despite its swollen and distorted form, and its grotesque perversion of the human figure. The thing's face had a beautiful, human elegance married to its biomechanical horror.

Dread and revulsion filled Eigen. He had never seen anything like the nightmare before him but he knew what it was called. It was a Bel Noble. The selected of the selected. Those chosen by the Star Masters to be elevated past humanity. They were physically and mentally augmented in countless ways. Every Bel was raised to worship and emulate the Nobles. Hoping they would be found worthy to join the growing ranks of the chosen aristocracy. Pulling his eyes away from the foul thing. Eigen tried to fight off the mind-shattering fear the Noble instilled in him. One of the arriving soldiers pushed a new figure into the plaza. Even while enthralled by terror Eigen realized who it was. The soldiers had captured his grandmother. ŗäＮοＢĘŝ

Without thinking he ran forward, rushing to the old woman. Weaving past the soldiers and embracing her. Looking at her last grandchild she whispered in a sad rasp "Oh Eigen, why didn't you run?"

Failing to hold back his tears, Eigen hugged his grandmother and wept. He had no answer other than a pure desire to be with his family and not leave her to die alone. Cold, hard hands grabbed Eigen by the collar and pulled him away from his grandmother. Hot metal was pressed to his neck and the boy screamed. A brand to identify and track him was seared into his flesh. The Bel Soldier pulled him further back, holstered his brander and locked ugly cuffs to Eigen's wrists. The plastic insert in the manacles swelled to trap his small hands, locking him in irons like the rest of his people.

Once every villager was accounted for, the soldiers locked their human quarry to a great chain that connected to a Bel troop carrier. Marching behind the convoy of armored vehicles, the villagers despaired. The strong helped carry the weak. The young and old were guided and protected. After nearly three hours of marching the prisoners reached their destination. Laying between rocky outcroppings and stunted trees was a great machine, shaped like some eldritch wyrm of metal and flesh. With insectoid segments that could open up to carry cargo. Easily large enough to carry the people and all the belongings of ten villages. This was another thing Eigen had heard of but never seen. An Untapede. It would load him and his entire village into its hold. Then slither across the ground like a gigantic serpent. Taking them to the final solution the Star Masters had decreed for the unchosen.

One by one they were marched into the pitch-black container-segment. Eigen and his Grandmother stayed close to each other. They were to the back of the line. Pulled forward slowly into the maw-like Untapede hold. Ahead of them, Nivic, daughter of Malai, a young woman from the village started to panic. Pulling on her chains she wailed and begged the Soldiers around them for mercy. A blur of motion flitted past Eigen and before he could process, the Noble was next to Nivic. Expressionless it peered down at the sobbing women. Her screams died as dread filled her mind. Nivic slumped to her knees and stared up at the towering mass of flesh and metal.

The noble's mouth changed. Opened was not the right word. Unfolded was probably closer. Plates of chitin and plastic designed to mimic skin shifted inhumanly. The Noble's jaw split and extended, leaving room for a… thing to stir out of its throat. Like some primordial worm, dredged up from the ocean's bottom it extended. Sickly pale and fleshy. The animated appendage stretched out of the noble's maw and approached Nivic. It twitched and moved, sensing the environment and the young women before it. Then in a flash, the worm struck. Its tip unfolding into a horrid chimera of stinger and mouth. The Worm stabbed into Nivic's forehead, puncturing her skin and skull, thrusting the fleshy protuberance into her brain. The noises Nivic made while she died were beyond expression. However, her screams and seizures could not fully cover up the horrific sounds of the Noble feeding. It sucked the neural tissue from her brain like an arachnid drinking its trapped prey.

After far too long the noise stopped as the Noble finished feeding. The worm pulled itself from her corpse and returned to the Nobles body. Its mouth resealed itself and the monster stalked away from its kill. A pair of Bel soldiers grabbed Nivic's corpse and hauled it away. As they left Eigen heard one remark to the other: "Unchosen harlot should be honored Margraf Rachhet chose her as feed. Our lady lowered herself to devour this sow."

Eigen and his Grandmother were loaded into the cargo-segment along with the other villagers. The segments door squeezed shut and the nearly three hundred survivors were packed into the container designed for carrying livestock. A single high up slit in the door provided the only light for them. Holding his grandmother's arms Eigen started to weep. Soon others joined him. The only noise in the box was the gentle murmur of crying. After what felt like an hour, the distant engines of the Untapede came to life. A deep vibration passed through the craft and it started to move.

The Untapede scuttled across the ground, taking them to their fate. It traveled for hours, no food or water was provided. Some of the more injured prisoners collapsed from exhaustion. Eigen and his Grandmother passed the time singing old songs from a nearly extinct culture, seeking to comfort each other. They traveled for at least twelve hours, the scent of soiled clothing and misery started to fill the segment. Some people had tried to sleep, others watched the environment for whatever next threat appeared. Eigen felt himself fading into unconsciousness, the gentle rumbling of the Untapedes movements strangely soothing.

Just as he teetered on the brink of sleep the Untapede came to an abrupt halt. The former villagers were tossed about by the rapid deceleration. The segments floor shook as a great explosion went off nearby. Soon the silence of there transport was replaced with gunfire and heavier discharges. Screams and thundering explosions could be heard, getting closer with each passing breath. The crackle of flames and ripping metal added to the cacophony. With what little space remained the villagers huddled into the far wall. Away from the door and whatever was happening outside.

A scream of steel being torn filled the segment. Two massive blades ripped through either side of the door. The metal plate designed to keep bovines penned in was shredded. The rail system the door was locked into was torn out. A pair of hulking hands punched through the sliding doors front. With great effort the hands ripped the metal door in half, sending each part flying in each direction. Sunlight poured into the segment, the second of Hossaks twin suns still in the sky. Eigens eyes adjusted and his mouth fell agape. Standing before them was an Angel.

Clad in ornate armor of red and gold. It towered over Eigen and was the size of the Bel Noble. Great wings of steel protruded from its back. Feathers of shining metal slick with blood. Its face was a helm of noble countenance and a great blade and gun were sheathed at its waist. The villagers were too tired to scream, only stare up at the supernatural giant. Its head cocked to the side slightly. Descending slowly, it rested on its knee. The great wings protruding from the Angels back folded behind it. Armored hands that had ripped apart solid steel reached up to its helmet and removed it with a click. Beautiful features and short golden hair spilled from the helm. The Angel spoke in a deep, rich accented voice. "Fear not! I am Battle-Brother Yasen of the IX Legion. Ancient Terra has come for her children."

Behind him, they could see the last of a battle being raged. The corpses of Bel soldiers dotted the ground. In a nearby crater, a teardrop-shaped machine opened up like a flower of metal. Donning his helmet the Battle-Brother spoke again: "You are under the protection of the Angels of Death, we have come to save your world from its Xeno invaders. The Auxilia will be here soon. All will be well."

Not fully understanding what was happening Eigen felt himself speaking despite himself. If this Angel was truly here to help them. It must stop the thing of living nightmares. "Angel, is the Noble dead? Did you kill it?"

Before the Angel could respond they got the answer. A blood-curdling scream echoed through the air. The Bel Noble pounced over the Untapede and slammed into the Astartes. Its bulk and momentum Carrying the Angel of Death to the ground. The Astartes brought his hands up and threw the creature off of him and scrambled to his feet. Hissing slightly the Bel-Noble landed a dozen feet away from the Untapedes segment. Drawing his chain-sword with both hands the Angel flared his wings menacingly. Shouting over his Vox: "Khrave located, possible uninfected civilians found. Take to the skies, my brothers!"

With a great downbeat of his metal wings, the Astartes shot forward. Propelled by superhuman muscle and archeotech wings. Brother Yasen brought his chainblade down towards the Khrave. Its engine roaring for blood. The Xenos wrapped the tendrils forming its right arm into a solid mass and cloaked it in psychic energy, blocking the chainblade just in time. The impact pushed the Xeno back another few paces. Its face near touching the Astartes helmet. In a voice, both fearfully human and greatly alien the Xeno spoke: "We are Khrave no longer, now we are Rangda."

With great effort, the Rangda-Khrave pushed Yasen back. Lifting its left arm, bolts of psychic lightning discharged from the horrid claw. Yasen cloaked himself with his wings, blocking the bolts and rushed forwards. His wings expanding out in great arcs of killing edges. The Rangda-Khrave danced backward. Its armor scratched by the very tips of Yasens feathers. Yasen then pushed forward. Unholstering his bolt gun he emptied its rounds into the Xeno. He attacked four different ways. His wings moving with impossible grace to parry and slash. Chainsword and Bolt Pistol striking out with methodical accuracy.

Snarling slightly the Xeno fired a heavy barrage of Warp-Energy from its claw-cannon. Enough to force Yasen to momentarily pause his attack. The Rangda-Khrave's tendril-blade split. From one great blade to a dozen lashing whips coated in psychic power. To Yasen's horror, the whip-blades started to chip and crack his feathers and blade. The Xeno had turned its weapons into formidable force-weapons and its technique was truly formidable. The mechanical precision of each blow, combined with a feral animalistic power was dangerous.

A singular deft strike lashed across Yasen's chest and forearms, splitting through ceramite and drawing blood. Larraman's Cells quickly closed the wound. Yasen ignored the pain and the psychic-feedback of the Weapon, which could cause minor seizures to mortals. Snarling with a mixture of contempt and rage the Astartes pressed forward. His chainsword and wings catching the many blades of the Rangda-Khrave. The Astartes and Xeno locked blades and matched strength. The Xeno was stronger, no doubt of that, but not enough to easily overpower an Astartes. Staring into the horrific face before him Yasen spoke: "I am the anvil of War."

From above the Rangda-Khrave, another voice answered: "And I am the Hammer of Wrath."

A power-sword came down in a perfect arc. Bisecting the Xenos head and upper torso. Another of Yasen's squad had arrived. An Astartes using his mighty wings and armor thrusters had flown a short distance and cleaved through the Xeno. Yasen pulled back and ripped his chainsword through the Rangda-Khraves torso. Splitting it in half. Both Astartes backed away from the Xeno, dislodging their weapons from it. An opaque white fluid poured from the grievous wounds. The new Astartes, a Battle-brother named Araqiel pulled out his Volkite pistol and prepared to burn the Xeno. Yasen stopped his squad-mate when he saw a slight movement in the shredded body.

Yasen plunged a gauntleted forearm into what was left of the Rangda-Khraves chest. With a grotesque squelch, Yasen ripped a massive worm from the corpse. It thrashed in his grip and hissed with its sucker-fangs. Fleshy roots, attached to its host-body snapped like viscous threads. After studying it for a second, Yasen squeezed the pale worm until it popped. The Xeno worm splattered into a pool of broken tissue and white fluid. Tossing it to the ground Yasen nodded to his battle-brother. Using the miniature underslung flamers provided for this mission and Araqiels volkite they turned the Rangda-Khrave into ash.

The Battle-Brothers shook hands, locking wrists in the typical legion fashion. Araqiel spoke: "It's a good thing you checked. The main body could have escaped into the soil while I burned its exoskeleton."

Shrugging slightly Yasen responded: "I should be thanking you, Brother, it pains me to think how much longer I could fight the enemy. I do not doubt your Volkite could have reduced it to dust before it could escape. My goal was to check what the Adeptus Umbrex reports said was true. This Xeno filth has turned this entire planet into a factory farm. Consuming most of the population and using the collaborators to breed better host-bodies. That thing was once human, now it was a suit of mutated flesh worn by a Khrave-Worm."

Araqiel gripped the handle of his power-sword tight enough to crack granite: "So the Khrave we have in the Lexicanum records were not using stolen human flesh? Wearing some other poor Xeno. Brother Maniul said the ones he fought while deployed on Expedition Fleet 93 had mandibles and four arms."

"It seems so, our records show the Khrave preferred warp-craft over other technology. This biological and technological mutilation is also new. We must send this data to command. It can be sent along with the freed prisoners. They will need to be tested for contamination." responded Yasen.

Araqiel bid his squadmate goodbye and took to the skies. He was part of the Legion minority that could do more than glide or slightly hover with his wings. Yasen would catch up with his squad soon. He knew they needed every blade they could during the conquest of this land-train station. Even so, he had sworn to protect the mortals he had found. Without the IX Legions interference, they would have been sent to one of the many "farms" scattered around the Belstadt contient.

Returning the terrified villagers, who had not left the Undtpede segment. For fear of provoking his or the Xenos wrath. Yasen spoke to them. Explaining the Imperium of Mankind and why they were here. He was no Iterator but the IX Legion always had a certain charisma to them. Within a few short minutes, an Auxilia transport arrived. The landing craft easily overshadowed the Land-Train his squad had stopped. Adding a mixture of awe and even more fear to the villagers.

The ship's landing doors opened and Solar Auxilia poured from it. Squads, transports, tanks, prefab buildings and more exited the lander. A well-armored Troop Master approached the Astartes and saluted. Yasen returned the salute and spoke: "Troop Master, I have refugees and tactical data. Ensure both get to command. These civilians have suffered greatly, treat them with the respect any Imperial citizen deserves. I know I can count on the good men and women of the Auxilia to do this."

The Troop-Master glanced over the freed prisoners and spoke: "On my honor as Troop Master of the 5th Red Kestrel Terico I swear to you Angel of Death." The Astartes handed the Troop Master a cogitator disk dispensed from his armor with all the data recorded from his fight. Yasen saluted the prisoners he had freed and returned to the battlefield.

Turning to her soldiers Troop Master Numeria Aibara barked: "You heard the Astartes, get some ration packs to these civilians and tell the churgion to prep his tools. I want each of these people, fed, inspected and ready to launch by sundown."

The Enginseers assigned to the Terico got to work cutting the restraints off the freed prisoners. Having spent years among the soldiers of the Imperium these Martian adepts possessed manners enough to try and not frighten the shocked survivors. Soon enough the former villagers found themselves within a prefab building. Eating surprisingly decent rations, talking with Auxilia in the make do mess hall. Waiting for them to be taken one by one to be examined by the Churgion. So far results were good, the isolated nature and filters used by the village had protected them from the contagion unleashed by the Xeno invaders. The Churgion theorized the century or so of surviving the biochemical assault had given them minor resistance to the agents used. Or the Khrave had simply wanted the refugees and other similar "wild game" fresh and clean. The latter seemed more likely since the biological agents found in the wilds of the planet seemed tame compared to the ones used in the "farms" liberated by the IX.

Holding his Grandmother's hand and listening to an energetic Auxilia describe the Solar System. Eigen felt safe for the first time he could remember. He had watched an Angel risk his life to protect them. The Az-tart-ess as the Soldier called the Angels had been created to destroy monsters and keep humans safe. By this account, Eigen felt they had succeeded in this purpose. The man in the white robe had given him and his grandmother a shot, and he enjoyed the bowl of warm food in front of him. They had survived, in the century since the Bel's complete conquest the survivors had seen little but the very worst mankind could offer. Now the very best had arrived. Bringing deliverance on Silver Wings.

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