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Edge of the End

743.M49
Cypri Mundi

How had it all come to this? Samuel Talonis stared into the massive cogitator screen that spread from wall to wall of the bunker. Endless battle logs, pict cast recordings, and schola histories scrolled down the screen endlessly. He buried his face in his hands and not for the tenth time asked himself aloud “How had it all come to this?” This time he received an answer. One of his young adjutants Lt. Eli Ney had entered the deserted command post. “My Lord? My lord are you quite alright? I have several requests on the command comm--” But Talonis cocked his head slightly and waved him silent. He slowly rose from his chair and pointed sadly at the screen, bright light illuminating the darkened room. “Don't you see my boy? It's all over. All over...” Lt. Ney shifted uneasily on his feet, rubbing his combat boots together, nervousness etched into his face. “But my Lord...My lord sir Lord General Krautz is urgently requesting you release the Titan reserve, and Lord--” But again he was cut off. Lord General Samuel Talonis was a grizzled veteran with more than two centuries of campaigning experience under his belt and the cuts, scars, and whirring of machinery in his arm spoke as a testament to that fact. But the image he projected today was that of a broken man. He looked at the boy in front of him. Straw haired, freckled, rosy cheeks, and blue eyes that showed stress and fear... he shook his head. The Lieutenant couldn't be more than twenty years old.

But Talonis turned away from Ney and pointed once again to the screen he croaked “It's been over for far too long... within a few centuries everyone will know it...” He saw the nervous expression on the boys face grow. He waved his hand “Relax Lieutenant, there is more brass on Cypri Mundi than we know what to do with. The Lord Commander supersedes me, he will release the Titans in good time.” Ney untensed a little “That is very good my Lord. I trust in yours and the Lord Commander's judgment as ever.” But Talonis looked back at the screen sadly and shook his head “But that's part of the problem isn't it... We've reached the edge. We have a Lord General Militant and the Lord Commander in battle on the same planet? The capital and nerve center of the entire Segmentum no less? None of this seems wrong to you?! The day is lost my boy.” His shoulders sagged a little at the blatant defeatism. Perhaps he just wanted someone else to share in his misery. Finally the young Lieutenant who had seen the degeneration in Talonis over the past few weeks could take no more “My lord! I...I cannot abide this any longer! This is treason! Infamy in the face of the Traitors themselves! I must report this!” And yet at last Talonis didn't care, he felt relief at the confession of his depression. Lord General Talonis simply pointed to the door “Fetch whomever you must, I'm sure there are more than enough inquisitors and commissars running around who would be thrilled with your report. Go now Lieutenant.” With a look of terror and anger on his face Lt. Ney turned on his heel and virtually sprang for the door.

At last Talonis sat back down in his chair. The command deck was empty. He had dismissed his officers to assist with efforts elsewhere in the massive ground facilities, ostentatiously on missions of real utility. In reality he had desired solace. He knew the end had come. The 17th Black Crusade had finally achieved what all the others had failed to do. The overwhelming of the Cadian Gate and the destruction of large swathes of the Imperial Fleet. In M47 the onslaught of Hive Armada Tyrant had overwhelmed the defenses of the Segmentum Tempestus and in a few centuries despite the best efforts of the Imperium had pressed on the military capital world of Bakka. Splinter fleets had even begun to roam into the now beleaguered Segmentum Pacificus. The only way to prevent the complete the collapse of the entire Segmentum in the space of the next few centuries was the rapid mobilization of massive reinforcements from the huge fleets and armies of the Segmentum Obscuris, specifically from Cypra Mundi and the Cadian Gate.

Warmaster Adonis had take charge of the combined forces and in brilliant actions had managed to purge the Tyranids the Segementum Pacificus and in joining with the fleets and armies in Segmentum Obscuris had managed to finally break the waves of the Tyranid advance in one of the largest campaigns the Imperium had seen since the march of Lord Solar Macharius. However it took more than two centuries of ceaseless engagement, and with several Ork Waagh's pulled into the fray infinitely more difficult and bloody. At last Hive Armada Tyrant was declared 'defeated' and Imperial fleets and armies were dispatched to engage individual Tyranid hive fleets and reclaim the many systems that had fallen to Tyranid hordes, the Ork Waagh's, and the scores of worlds and systems which had simply seceded in the vacuum of Imperial rule. Talonis pulled up the list at the corner of the screen with a quick flick of the key's. He laughed sadly, all those systems and worlds remained outside the control of the Imperium. In fact in the past two thousand years more worlds and systems had been lost due to renewed Tyranid and Ork onslaughts and increasingly secessionism.

And so...and so when the hammer fell and the hordes poured forth from the Eye of Terror the Imperial legions that had barely contained the 16th Black Crusade were overwhelmed. Billions upon billions now poured forth from the gaping maw. The shattered Imperial fleets along with their Astartes counterparts fell back repeatedly and were splintered in successive offensives. Finally, several Astartes chapters broke off to defend their home worlds. The Space Wolves, along with a sizable fraction of an Imperial Fleet had retreated with the goal of evacuating their homeworld Fenris of its precious artifacts, adepts, recruits, and technology. But it was not to be, it was as the fell Magnus had desired. At last he stepped forth from the immaterium leading his own Legion and tens of millions of traitor cultists along with a major splinter fleet and savaged the Imperial forces in orbit over Fenris. The Astartes deft and skilled as always had managed to wreak terrible casualties on the Traitors and in a daring boarding brought down the Battle Barge the Photep. However it was to no avail, the planet was overwhelmed and the Imperial fleets all but obliterated. It was said that the Fang had been converted into a palace of sorcery for Magnus, a grim copy of his tower in Tizla. A company or two of the Wolves had managed to evade destruction but according to the blinking text on the cogitator screen their location was unknown. Talonis shrugged, perhaps it was just Imperial rumor and nothing more.

With the emergence of the Traitor Legions and the mauling of the primary Imperial forces in the Segementum, whole systems were laid bare. In less than a century entire systems either turned traitor or were laid to waste. The loosening grip of the Imperium seemed to encourage heresy and rebellion everywhere. It was like a vision from the darkest days of the Heresy as loyalists and traitors tore each other apart. Hundreds of billions perished as worlds were burnt to a cinder. Assistance from the other Segmentums was limited as they tried to cope with the crushing burden of Xenos and Traitor onslaughts on all fronts while the Solar Segementum pulled in shattered fleets and armies to fortify the outer systems of the capital Segmentum.

Talonis was interrupted by the now blaring red comm link. Sighing he flicked the switch and the image of Lord General Krautz appeared on the screen. “My Lord! We can no longer reach Lord Commander Ulfang, we need you to authorize the release of the Titan Legions! The traitors have pushed towards the Del Niyus Shipyards we can knock them back but we need your authorization.” Talonis's shoulders sagged it was a blow to realize that the traitors had pushed that far already. As well as the unspoken but implicit news of the Lord Commanders death which meant that the administrative nerve center at New Corinth had fallen. But without support from orbit... He resisted the urge to ask the General what the point was. He nodded “Yes General, in the name of the Emperor we shall crush the heretics beneath the iron of his holy machines.” he keyed in the proper authorization. Seemingly invigorated the Lord General saluted and began rapidly issuing orders, Talonis broke communication.

Turning his attention to the massive cogitator screen he picked up where he had left off. Despite the best and most protracted Imperial efforts within another two centuries in 554.M49 the last great collection of Imperial ships and troops were defeated in a major counter attack towards Cadia. It was an epic and bloody affair, in fact it was one of Talonis's first major campaigns. However the combined might of the Traitor Fleets and the augmenting of their power with the Blackstone Fortresses eventually overwhelmed Imperial forces and in a devastating retreat that occurred they reconsolidated in the northern arm of the Segementum. The Traitor Fleets believed they had a free walk to the nerve center of the Segementum at Cypra Mundi but perhaps they had grown overconfident as it took them more than a hundred fifty years to breach the system as ingenious Imperial delaying actions dealt tremendous damage. It was a century of unrecorded heroics and gallantry.

Talonis pulled up a map of the planet, areas controlled by the traitors were covered in red. A majority of the map had been colored red and landings were being marked all over the ship yards. He smiled a sad smile again he laughed a little to himself “And yet it was not enough...” His command bunker was located at the Omega Fortress which guarded the primary cluster of Shipyards and kept the shields up over the facilities. Having finally battle there way to the capital of the Segmentum they had taken a full decade to batter through Imperial defences. Overcoming the formidable Imperial fleets in orbit around the planet and the six gigantic orbital fortresses had taken years and had taken a major toll on the traitor forces. It forced Abbadon to recall major forces from elsewhere in the Segementum and nearly five full traitor legions. It was only as the orbital fortresses fell and the fleets melted away that Talonis had finally lost all hope. No reinforcements were en route.

For the past six years they had engaged the traitors on the ground. Billions had died in inhuman carnage, billions upon billions of refugees were butchered in the deep tunnels and coves of the planet armed often with nothing more than shovels and lasguns. Now at last it seemed like the end had come, at least for Omega Fortress. Traitor Astartes and millions of cultists and the foulest daemons pressed on their defenses, while the unholy Titans poured death into the gaps. And yet a mix of Astartes, PDF, and of course Guardsmen returned the death in turn. In a matter of days millions of traitors piled up and yet they inched closer and closer to the shield generators. Desperately they had resorted to arming millions of Imperial Navy crewmen and throwing them into battle tenaciously biting back at the enemy. And yet it seemed as though the last gasp had come. Pulling up pict recordings and current battle reports he could see the last of the massive plascrete edifices being chipped away as artillery smashed at the generator bunkers.

Talonis was surprised at how quickly it had all happened. He knew it must be bad as dust and rockcrete fell from the ceiling from the incoming artillery. It was only when he saw traitor forces withdrawing on the screen that he knew the end had come for the defenders of Omega Fortress. He doubted anyone would know the extent of their heroics here. And at last, at long last he felt a twinge of shame. The men under his command had led and battled ferociously indeed he saw them fall second by second on the cogitator screen. What had he done? He looked around the darkened room and pushed the chair out. He had hidden away in his despair. A last bit of defiance welled up in his chest “If this is how we fall...so be it.” He flicked open the door to the command bunker and pushed his chair out, he pulled out his sword and plasma pistol and exited to the control room. It was a hustle and bustle with aides, officers, and troopers rushing about the room as they tried to prepare for evacuation to the lower tunnels to continue the fight elsewhere. They suddenly stopped cold, they hadn't seen the commander in days. Almost at once they seemed to scramble to attention but Talonis held up a hand “At ease, at ease. I would just like to tell you all...” He paused as he surveyed the men drenched in sweat worked to the bone over the past few weeks, fear and defiance in their eyes. Talonis cleared his throat “Tell you all how proud I personally am of each and every one of you. The Emperor would---”

He was interrupted by a seismic quake that rocked the control room. Talonis like most of the men in the room was knocked to the floor dust and rockcrete scattered everywhere along with shattered cogitators. A tech adept grasped the command console and heaved himself up looking into the damage reports his eyes went wide “Evacuate! The shields are down, that was a probing shell from orbit!”

People tried to run down the stairs to the tunnels but Talonis didn't even try. He pulled himself to his feet and hefted his weight against a cracked wall. Next to him lenaed a terrified wounded young trooper who gulped and whispered “It doesn't matter...does it Lord?” At that last piece of primal desperation Talonis was at last overthrown. His mind raced “Why! Why has the Emperor forsaken us! The Imperium teeters on the brink of collapse! Is He... Is He even there?” Talonis battled against the desperation. Finally in those last seconds as Talonis teetered on the brink of Heresy he looked back at the trooper and grasped his shoulders pulling him close into a tight embrace. With firmness and meaning the like of which he had never felt before “It is never for nothing. We have served Him and Humanity. And be proud soldier, be proud until the very end. For the Emperor, Praise His Name. ” The soldier swallowed and nodded, and so Lord General Militant Samuel Talonis was redeemed from Heresy. Right before a sky scraper sized shell splintered Omega Fortress to its very foundations.

The Holy Throne Room

Lord Constantine Valdor, most ancient of the Emperors servants and his loyal Companion was the Lord of his masters personal guardians. Tall and grave he stood head bowed in deep thought before the Golden Throne. What would his master desire of him? And yet for once he could not bare his thoughts to the Lord of All Men, the one whom quadrillions called their God. He was forced to look inward, towards his own heart. And at last he felt as though he had an answer. He summoned his closest lords and confidants, the chief's of the Custodes. “With the fall of Cypra Munda and the collapse of the Segementums into war and heresy my heart tells me the time has come.” The assembled Custodes were stone faced. Undeterred he gestured to the holy edifice “We have increased the amount of offerings a thousand fold but to no avail. My heart tells me it is no coincidence that his throne fails as his realm fails.” He paused a moment to survey the lords again, he could divine nothing. “The time has come. Is there dissension?” No one raised a voice. But slowly one by one they nodded their heads in assent. He nodded “Then it shall be done. Make the preparations. Once we are committed there is no turning back. We shall make contact, activate our agents.”


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This is my first story I'd be happy for any feedback you guys have. I also wanted to take a point of apologizing early on for any errors grammatical or otherwise you feel have been made and to point them out of they seem egregious. Also the later chapters will not be as intensive on the chronological detail or campaign summaries, but I felt it was necessary to render a plausible outline of a dramatic decline in the Imperium so as to effectively convey the dire straights they find themselves in. This is a storyline my friends and I had always nerded out to and it seemed like time enough to try and write one. What better place to test our nerd wank.

Hope you guys enjoy!

With no death date or fate proscribed for Valdor, I have decided to include him as a central character in my story as the still living guardian of the Emperor. Perhaps masking his identity over the millenia, but that might be fleshed out later.

I find myself intrigued. I presume you're playing off the Star Child prophecy or some variant thereof? But whatever you're doing, by all means, I'd be happy to read if you continue.

Well I'm really happy to see you comment, I think I might do just that and continue to another chapter. Thanks a lot!

Looks very intriguing.

I'd be glad to see this continued.

Are... is...

Is he waking up?

Chapter 2
In Search of the Phoenix
748.M49


It had taken several years to make the necessary contacts and several more to plan the meeting. First, contact had to be established, and with a group like theirs that was a difficult prospect. They had survived as long as they had because they had managed to evade the ever searching arm of the Inquisition. Which brought them to their second problem, undertaking the expedition and activating their agents without arousing too much suspicion or attention from the Inquisition. This too had proven exceedingly difficult and required several years to enact the surreptitious placing of assets, quietly making the first contacts, cutting off false trails, and finally arranging the meeting. Once contact had been made and their authority had been proven, a meeting place had to be selected. The decision was eventually made to meet at Colcha, an Imperial Agriworld in the Segementum Pacificus.

The trip through the warp had gone smoothly enough, Lord Valdor had personally recruited the navigators and crew for the mission after all. However distance from Terra to Colcha was still staggering and they had spent months in transit. Even the normally stoic and reserved Centurion Damasteen was relieved to be back on solid ground.

The convoy trundled along the cobbled road of Meridian the capital of Colcha. The city of only a few million made for a quaint diversion from the urban planet scape of Terra, while it was intriguing to be able to see blue sky instead of skyscraper and clouds of pollutant. The lead chimera approached the steps great forum of the capital. It was a wide square several hundred feet long and wide with gardens and walkways intersecting every which way. Overshadowing the plaza was the great cathedral, shooting up into the sky, it's spire scraping close to a thousand feet in the air. The wide arches stretched across the width of the forum, stained glass depictions decorated the high flying structure, while a greatly decorated door stood at the top of the stairs. It was the shrine capital of Colcha, and had been for more than 14,000 years, or so the local officials like to say. It was always hard to tell with claims like that.

The mission had been camouflaged as a routine mission of the Ecclesiarchy. Damasteen was disguised as a member of the honor guard for a high ranking Bishop. Unwilling to paint his armor in order to blend in, instead he had consented to wearing a long black robe decorated with the images and symbols of the Imperial Cult. The entourage made their way up the stairs to the Cathedral entrance, Damasteen stood at the rear, while two columns of a dozen stormtroopers formed up the center with the 'Bishop' standing at the head. As they approached the door two guards with halberds barred their path, but the 'Bishop' spoke “Peace brothers, we walk in the Emperor's light.” Nodding in ascent the halberds were removed from their path and the door opened. Leading the way in, the column filed behind the Bishop. Damasteen took the final step across the threshold and the door closed behind them. Walking forward through the massive edifice passing row, after row of pews they finally stopped before the dais at the end of the hall. At the dais an incredibly young man in the vestments of the Imperial Cult stood and watched them. He was tall, easily over six feet tall, with kempt black hair, shaved a little on the sides and with hauntingly piercing brown eyes which were perceptible even from such a distance. The entourage and the man stood in silence for a moment, before finally the man spread his arms “We meet at last, I am Anaron and we have much to discuss.”

At this Damasteen took a step forward and pulled back his cowl. His skin was bronze, his eyes blue, and his hair non-existent. An incredibly spartan appearance common to his kind. But the hint of gold armor at his neck plate, revealed what made him truly special even amongst the Astartes. Taking another step forward and approaching the dais he waived his hands and the troopers immediately dispersed heading for the doors and exits act as watchers and security. Coming before the dais he bowed his head in respect “So you are the Cardinal? An interesting position for one such as you.” The man at the dais smiled “Is it? We all revere our father on the throne, my reverence is perhaps only slightly more personal.” The carefully crafted reply was the confirmation he needed, and he quickly dropped to his knee showing the reverence owed to such a man his massive halberd held at his side “I am Centurion Damasteen, servant of the Throne.” Anaron nodded and waved for him to rise “Follow me my son, we have much to discuss.” The Cathedral apparently secure, Damasteen and Anaron disappeared into a secret door that led to the equally secret inner sanctum office of the Cardinal behind the dais.

Anaron took his seat at his desk and almost made to motion for Damasteen to take a seat, but stopped himself realizing the impracticality of the hulking Centurion finding a seat anywhere in the room. Damasteen nodded at the attempted gesture. Finally Anaron broke the silence “I am glad to see that you have made it all this way to Colcha, it is a long way from Terra. But that is as far as we need go with formalities. You know who I am, and what my order represents or you would not be here. We are the hope of the Emperor's rise, the hope of his rebirth, the resurrection that can save Mankind.” Anaron spread his arms dramatically “We are the Sensai, and I am their chief and have been for a length of time that even a mighty Custodes would have difficulty fathoming.”

Even though he knew what his mission was when he came to Colcha, and he had been prepared and had been working for this mission for years to hear it from the lips of the Emperor's first biological son was difficult to take in. Dropping to his knees he felt awe, respect, joy, and finally even disbelief crept into his mind. He looked up into the eyes of Anaron, for a sign. Though he could feel no psychic emanation, he could see the divine spark, that intangible thing that made the Emperor what he was, and after that moment he knew no more doubt. Rising to his feet “Forgive me my lord, but you believe your father can be resurrected as does my Lord Valdor, I am here to arrange the preparations for this great undertaking.” Talking about such a thing was dizzying even for Damasteen.

Anaron smiled “Yes my brothers and myself can, and we have been waiting for the signal from your Lord for many thousands of years. He discovered our existence not that long after the fall of our father through means even I do not fully understand. However I suspect it was a final psychic message from our father in the temporal plane of existence, for your Lord insisted that the time was not ripe. That it might never be ripe. Not till we stood upon the edge of annihilation could we be summoned. So we waited. Our order and mission was discovered, and believed to be tricks of the Ruinious Powers by the fools of the Inquisition and even many in the Ecclesiarchy, and so we were hunted. And yet we survive and endure, and we wait. Until today, for the day of action has come.” He laughed suddenly as the cutting through the echoing chamber “You look uncomfortable, that was very melodramatic no? But it feels good to reveal it at last to another outsider.”

Centurion Damasteen shifted uneasily as he looked around the chamber “No lord it isn't that, but it seems risky to be discussing it so openly, I fear for prying ears and our enemies.” Anaron stopped smiling and nodded gravely “Indeed, but there is no where safe anymore. Now we must discuss how to accomplish this. There are 953 of my brothers left in the entirety of the Imperium, and as many of us as possible must be brought into the Imperial Palace as possible for our task to be achievable.” He caught the quizzical look on Damasteen's face “You wonder how I know the exact number? While it is true we are psychic nulls as you have perhaps been briefed we share some of the Emperor's essence. What that means I cannot say, but practically it means we are aware of all of our brothers. And to answer your next thought, yes I know when one is killed.” Leaning back in the chair he stared back at Damasteen “You seem to still be offput Centurion, what is the matter?”

Struggling for words Damasteen finally managed “You seem too human.” Perhaps realizing the bluntness of his words he tried to retract his comment “Lord, what I mean--” But he was waived silent. Anaron stood up and walked around the desk and stood before the mighty Custodes. As tall as he was the Centurion stood almost a meter above him. Pressing his finger against Damasteen's armor running it along the edges and shapes of his armor. “Despite all of this armor, all of your enhancements, you are human in the end. Though closer to me than a normal Astartes, you are still human. Do we so easily forget that at his core the Emperor was, is, a Man? He is human!” Walking around the Centurion and back to his desk he turned back to face Damasteen “The closest I can come to describing the Emperor is the divinity of Mankind made manifest, and even that brings up contradictions and confusions.” He took his seat again “Suffice to say I am a man Damasteen, I am human, the Sensai are perhaps his mere humanity made manifest.” Letting the words hang in the air for a moment he cracked a wry smile “But if all goes as planned perhaps you will be able to ask him yourself.”

Satisfied and enlightened the Centurion bowed his head in respect before continuing. “Lord our plan was to use the cover of pilgrimage ships to shield your arrival to Terra. We the the agents and capacity to get you past the line of common pilgrim barges, and get you onto Terra with relative speed. It is how the elite of the Imperium make rapid pilgrimages. From there we will begin to gather you with our own drop ships when you come closer to the Imperial Palace. It will arouse attention from everyone, including the Inquisition but they will not easily fire on our ships. Once you are inside the Imperial Perimeter we can protect you as you carry out your task.” Anaron raised an eyebrow “You would fight the Inquisition or other forces on Terra?” Damasteen seemed surprised “For the Emperor my lord? Of course we would.” Smiling Anaron nodded for him to continue “The issue remains for you to make contact with your brothers, gather them in the proper places that we shall indicate so they can board the ships, and then we can begin the operation. Lord Valdor anticipates this taking no more than five years, six if we are to be extra cautious.” Anaron simply nodded his assent “It seems well enough, as much risk as can be expected.”

They discussed the details of their plans for another hour before finally rising to leave. As they headed for the door Damasteen deigned to ask him the question that had been burning his heart “Lord? How exactly do you plan on bringing about the Emperor's return?” Anaron smiled “By doing what we were born to do.” He said no more.

Centurion Damasteen was the first to exit the door, but as he opened it he immediately threw Anaron back into the inner chapel, the Sensai chief stumbling back into the room. Damasteen blocked the massive entrance with his equally massive form. Some two dozen soldiers were in the front pews of the Cathedral, his hyper reflexes identified silenced lasguns and stubbers in their hands, tools of the Inquisition. By the dais was the body of the loyal servant who had acted as the 'Bishop', a man was looking over his body checking pockets and the corners of his robe.

Before the man could look up Damasteen had already killed two of the men. He brought up his halberd built into the head of the weapon was a storm-bolter. Rushing through the pews wood shattered as explosive rounds rang out in the Cathedral. The first man exploded in a mist of red, the second tried to raise his rifle only to be detached at the spine. Blood spattered against his face as he cut his halberd in a sudden wide arc cutting two men two just above their pectorals. It was then that fire began to patter against his armor. The man by the Bishop's body jumped to his feet and screamed “Imperial Inquisition! Inquisition!” He jumped into cover behind the stone and marble dais and fired off a few rounds from a bolt pistol that had been holstered on his belt. The rounds mostly went high, those that impacted did nothing to deter him. Damasteen whirled about gunning down two more troopers as he did, facing the dais. But he made a calculation to avoid the dais for now, and pivoted to his right charging down a small group of six troopers in the alcove. Lasgun and stubber fire did nothing, as he closed for the kill he noticed fire and splinters smacking against his back, it was only in the next split second as he impaled the first of the troopers that he realized it was a poor attempt to take him down with a grenade.

The Inquisitor had rallied and had dashed across to the far left alcove and brought his troopers to bear with him and they let loose concentrated fire on him. At this point his black robe had been mostly cut to pieces. The golden armor, and the markings of his duty were laid bare. But the secret nature of his own order, protected him from recognition. The Inquisitor only had enough time to think “Not of the Ruinous powers?” The thought was cut short as his men were slashed to pieces. The chattering of storm bolter fire as Damasteen charged had turned most of the men to bloody pulp. While the final two were split in half by two quick cuts of his halberd. Turning quickly instead of delivering the death blow he grabbed the Inquisitor by the throat as gingerly as he could without snapping his neck.

With the man in hand he slammed him against the wall, just enough to leave his bones only a little rattled. Damasteen tore off the tattered remains of his robe. “I am Centurion Damasteen, servant of the Imperial Throne, I answer to none but the Emperor. Explain your purpose here at once.” Overawed, surprised, and terribly afraid the Inquisitor choked out “I am Inquisitor... Beren... I'm here... to investigate... a cult... of the dark powers...!” Damasteen nodded “And that is it?” The Inquisitor swiftly nodded. The Centurion bowed his head in relief. He looked up after a moment “In the name of the Emperor” and crushed the throat of the man and dropped him to the ground. He whispered “As a servant, in death you will understand.”

Turning back to where he had left Anaron, he opened the door and found the Sensai Chief sitting at his desk, a plasma pistol in hand. He made no reaction as the door opened and smiled “Only a precaution, I expected nothing less from my fathers own guard.” Damasteen bowed his head in respect “I am pleased lord, the Inquisition had no knowledge of our plans, though they were close to finding you. We must flee, I can bring you back to Terra, you can organize the mission from there.” Anaron pondered for a moment “I can come to Terra, so long as I do not enter the throne room until the time has come.” Centurion Damasteen nodded and spoke into his own private comm bead. “We have to go now.” Rushing down the corridor trampling over bodies, blood, and splintered wood they exited into the main plaza. A camouflaged gunship which had been on standby in the routine air traffic control corridors broke its cover and hurtled for the Cathedral. It arrived only just in time and swooped over the plaza to collect them.

The battle and escape had taken place over the course of minutes. Yet only a few minutes after their escape Arbites and PDF poured into the streets to secure and avenge the apparent taint at the spiritual heart of their world. They would never know the chain of events that had been started there that day.

Edited

Hope you guys like it, as I said I'm treading into some areas that have not been intensely covered by 40k fluff so I'm molding it a bit, and later I will be molding it more and more. There are obviously a lot of issues that have to be squared with the the Sensai, the Emperor, the Imperial Truth, Imperial Cult, etc and I will do my best to accomplish that.

Thanks for the comments.

Are the Sensai your creation? I havn't seen much fluff, so I don't know about them.

They're an established bit of fluff actually. The sensei are the descendants of the emperor. They're immortal, powerful, and hunted down by the inquisition so their bodies can be rendered down to make psycannon ammunition.

Yes they are established fluff, and what Todeswind said is correct. Though the fluff has been fairly murky over the years, so a lot of the time I'll be forced to make my own interpretation. But the general outline is there, including the belief that the Sensai are required to 'bring back' the Emperor.

When you say 'descendants', what does that mean? Biological offspring? Constructs made by his own hand? Primarch-lites?

Biological offspring, the Emperor's been around since ancient Mesopotamia. Condoms weren't exactly in vogue till the 1900's.... suffice it to say he fathered a few heirs who fathered children in return.

From what I've read, the Sensai are supposed to be sterile, but I'm presuming that there's no reason to believe the Emperor stopped getting his groove on in 2011.

superskippy wrote:From what I've read, the Sensai are supposed to be sterile, but I'm presuming that there's no reason to believe the Emperor stopped getting his groove on in 2011.

Well he did walk the earth for like 30,000 years, and the Sensai are immortal. I do not remember, are Sensai psykers or anti-psykers?

I think they are nulls, but I'm not sure I'll have to check. Sorry for the delays you know classes and all, I hope to have another chapter up soon.

I wonder, have the Eldar managed to survive as a power until now? Even if they haven't, the Phoenix Lords are supposed to be in on the Final Battle. The Eldar call it the Rhana Dandra - the final battle between Chaos and the material universe, and it has quite a few similarities with the Star Child prophecy. I think even Ahra, the fallen Phoenix Lord of the Striking Scorpions, is supposed to be present - a common theory is that he founded the Dark Eldar Incubi.

What about the 'crons? You mentioned 'nids and Orks in the first chapter, and obviously Chaos is involved, but if Chaos has made such great gains, the Necrons' tombs should be flashing their equivalent of Red Alert. Which would have interesting implications when combined with the general loss of faith, if the Guardian of the Void Dragon weakened.

And if the Blackstone Fortresses are tooling around under Abaddon's orders, I wonder what's been happening over the last six millenia with the one that Eldrad Ulthran was sucked into? Hell, is Abaddon even in charge anymore, or has someone competent finally replaced him?

I wonder if Ciaphas Cain is still on the Munitorum's rosters, and they've been trying to call him up for the last few millenia?

Great story so far, looking forward to more!

Im hopeing Ciaphas Cain will return and save the day "(again).

He still "is" in active service and i think the burial with full military awards was a scam...