[h3]000.M31 Akhiina System Saravata Subsector Ultima Segmentum LEGIO I et LEGIO XVI[/h3] [hr] Iniephor felt the howling in his mind abate as they left the Vast Sea. Akhiina System, Saravata Subsector. A new xenos race, and one that the Edict of Tolerance did not encompass, and so, the Imperium did what was needed to ensure mankind’s physical survival. One of his siblings had already found themselves carrying out the grisly deed, but he had been relatively close by- a few weeks Psailing at most, and the opportunity to document and research a race before their mark on the galaxy was irreparably erased was too juicy a chance for him to pass up. As his capital ship- The Glory of Wisdom, fully exited the Sea, he would arise, and with but a careful thought serfs would come running. His armour was not needed for this, but he still needed to look his best. Soon enough, he was prepared. Purple robes clothed his form, adorned with golden chains and the fetishes of a Knosson magus. A magnificent cloak, colours shimmering even in the flat light of the vessel was affixed to his back, and in one hand he grasped a long, thin golden staff, sigils and runes carved into it. By his side walked his sons- honour guards, force glaives and arcane works in hand. He supposed, as this was his first meeting with a new sibling, he ought to take a gift, and as he had done with every previous one he had met he knew what he would offer. Bound in leather, the front stamped with the symbol that more and more legions were using to represent their psykers- his horned skull. Some might find it insulting, he merely found it amusing. The skull was but a vessel for the glory of what was contained within, nothing more, and nothing less. If it had been up to him, he would have made the symbol a stylised brain, but nobody ever got everything they wanted. Grasping the book in his free hand, he would step from the Glory onto a smaller shuttle, and once all were aboard and the mag-locks were cast off, he would be on his way to meet this sister of his. __________________________________________ “My Primarch, we have received word via your astropath of the imminent arrival of another of His Sons.” The words filtered in through a dizzy haze of pict-feeds, comm-links, and auspex readings. The maelstrom of information fed its way through the cables implanted in the base of her skull, where the Primarch sat enthroned. Her eyes stared at everything and nothing as she monitored and coordinated the battle on the ground. From her mind flashed orders to the commander of the eighth Desayta, to hold fire until the assault craft of the 9th had finished their strafing run. Xenos war suits, resembling the hunched over primates of Terra… gorrillas, they were, erupted in flames as the diamantine tipped shells of Avenger strike fighters tore fiery gouts in the armor of the invaders. At a missive from her, fed through the comm-links of the artillery of the 2nd Battlegroup, the vast batteries of earthshaker cannons and other ordnance opened fire. Great eruptions of dirt and the mangled corpses of xenos invaders ballooned from the planetary surface as the fighters pulled up from their dive, and the rumbling and squeaking of the treads of Dracosan transports spinning into gear as the eighth and ninth Desaytas prepared to pinch off the salient they had prepared upon the planetary surface. This arm of the incursion had been soundly defeated in the void, and all that remained was to excise their presence from the world upon which they had been landed. And then would commence the next phase of the operation. And the next. And then the next. Until the vile servants of the Malevolent had been pushed back from Imperial space and returned once more to their rightful place within the stars. Almost as an afterthought did the Primarch speak aloud, her attention scarcely budging from the constant stream of information. “Who is it, Rhena? Please do tell me it is not that loathesome crustacean. I have no desire to speak to him, nor do I believe we have sufficient butter stored within the ship’s larder for a crab dinner.” “Er, no, my Primarch.” Came the response. “It is your Brother, Iniephor. He wishes to meet with you.” A frown pierced her taciturn expression, and from the ship’s databanks into her mind flashed all of the information available on the other Primarch. She had never met this one before, that much was self evident, and thus it would be unacceptable to merely communicate via vox, let alone Astropath. An audible sigh passed her lips, and quickly information relayed to the commanders of each Battlegroup. Additional coordinators stood ready at her signal, likewise plugged in via neural connection to the unfolding events on the ground - though there were far more. The Primarch herself could handle the mind boggling array of information, no single mortal mind, no matter how augmented, could handle such a deluge. In truth, this came at an inopportune time. Had her brother arrived merely a dozen standard hours later, the affairs upon the planetary surface would likely have been resolved, and she would not be forced to delegate the coordination of the military to her subordinates. It pained her to think of a single life lost due to the inefficiencies of the decentralized coordination, but the potential cost in spurning the first meeting between sibling Primarchs could cost far, far more in the long run. At a signal, marked by grunts or hisses of discomfort from many, the data stream shifted and split, and her mind was free. A tech-priest hurried over, whispering silent cants under his breath as he performed the delicate procedure of disconnecting her implants from the ship. She winced as a spike of pain marked the final disconnect, and rose from the chair, massaging her neck. “Really, Serkei, could you not give some warning next time? It is unpleasant enough without not knowing when it will come.” She raised a finger before he could utter a response, a small smile on her lips. “I am not above petty vengeance, you know.” Came a whisper to him and him alone. “For I know there are more sacred unguents you keep in your quarters, prime targets for a little tampering.” Beckoning the Ensign who had alerted her to her brother’s arrival, she began to walk from the Bridge, making her way to where her armor was stored. It would not do for the first meeting to be her in but her simple bridge-clothes. “Please, enlighten me further while I dress.” ____________________ Armored, now, she stood waiting for her brother’s arrival. The ensign blinked nervously, her pristinely starched uniform streaked by cold, anxious sweat that beaded from her low cropped military hair. “My Primarch, are you sure you do not wish some of your Daughters to accompany you?” “I am certain.” Eiohsa replied calmly, “This Brother of mine is no barbarian like some. I doubt he will care, overmuch, whether we meet in the bridge itself or in some small mortal cafe upon the most insignificant of urban worlds.” She paused, before smiling, “And even if it is not so, I have you to protect me, do I not?” The Ensign gulped, and looked ahead once more to the chuckling of her commander. __________________________________________ Two by two by two entered the honour guard. With their glaives and their books and their fine gilded robes they looked as regal as the Emperor’s own custodes, but they fell to the sides of the gangway quickly and cleanly as the tallest figure strode out from behind them. Horns curling upwards, moustache and goatee meticulously curated, chains jingling slightly, Iniephor would bow at the waist, offering the book he held out with two hands. “Greetings sister. I am Iniephor, Sorceror-King of Knossos, known as the Scholar. Please, take this- a small token of how glad I am to meet a new sibling of mine, and I hope that it’ll serve not only you, but also your legion well in the centuries to come.” Eiohsa winced slightly at the brightness, the sheer power of her Brother’s soul. It glowed brilliantly within the warp, a beacon of psychic energy that outshone all others she had glimpsed. All but one. The Emperor. “So, you truly are as they claim.” She said to him, inclining her head slightly in respect. “The greatest psyker amongst our number. Second only to the Emperor. Forgive me, your presence is… bright.” She took the proffered book in hand, gazing idly at it with some interest. “A treatise I take it?” She mused, feeling its heavy weight in hand. “Collection of your insights into the Supermaterium, perhaps? We will use this knowledge well, I thank you.” “Ah. You have pelagic vision then. I had rumours.” He would wait a moment, then nod, causing his chains to jingle again. “Indeed. You call it the Supermaterium, I call it the Vast Sea, but it is the same thing. Composed during my time prior to my meeting of the Emperor, although it lacks some of my more recent studies into Mind Sharks.” He would wave a hand dismissively. “If you require further copies, feel free to contact my legion. Our Librarius is filled with them, but none as beautified as that.” He would turn to one of the bulkhead windows, and stare out at the planet below. “I must admit, that whilst I was fascinated to come and meet one of my siblings, my predominant reason for coming here was what lies upon that planet. The xenos you’re fighting will soon stop existing outside of history books, and I hope to be the one to write said history book. That being said, politeness and courtesy costs nothing.” “We call it merely Sight.” She responded, nodding solemnly. “The rumours are correct, every single soul upon that world, I feel them live and die. These xenos… they… they are not those whom I would save. Much as it pains me. The serve the Malevolent, I fear. Knowingly or not, their existence in its current form is a blight upon the universe. Perhaps there was a time they could have been saved, but when I look upon them I see nought but devastation for my people. And so I will fight them. We have obtained many corpses in excellent condition for study, you may have full access to them as well as my scientists’ findings.” A nod to her Ensign, and a dataslate brimming with information sat in her hand. A high resolution pict-gallery displayed detailed three-dimensional scans of their anatomy. “They bear a cursory resemblance to gorillas of old Terra, but are hairless in entirety, and seemingly amphibious. What we have recovered of their suits indicates they contain liquid water to moisturize the skin. Their weapons technology is impressive. It is reminiscent of some of our own mass-driver technology, but considerably more compact and reliable, and utilized at small scale. We are hopeful that, if nothing else, this technology can assist in the improvement of our bolt-weaponry.” “Gorilla like and with advanced technology. A distant relative to the ever-useful Jokaero, perhaps?” Iniephor would consider it for a moment and then shake his head. “Never mind that. My researchers will have more than enough time to be able to examine the intricacies of this race on their own terms. For now, I know very little of you, and you in turn presumably know less of me. Is there a place we can go, to talk privately among ourselves? My honour guard shan’t be staying for much longer.” “My private quarters, if you wish it.” Murmured Eiohsa in response, nodding in turn towards Iniephor’s honor guard. “I bid you well, sons of my brother.” To her Ensign, likewise, she nodded. “Thank you for your company, Rhena, I will meet with you again on the bridge. I have matters to discuss with my Brother. Please confer full operational autonomy to the general officers.” She turned back to Iniephor, “Please, follow me - unless you wish to converse upon your own vessel?” The honour guard offered a curt nod to show that they had heard and acknowledged their aunt-in-arms, before turning and marching back into the ship. “No no,” Iniephor would insist. “T’is a simple shuttle, not suited for the talk of superhumans.” He waved his hand dismissively, and then fell into lockstep with his sister, eyes panning across the ship as the pair walked through its halls. Eiohsa shrugged, “If you say so, though I referred to your own flagship. My apologies.” She beckoned him, and set off at a quick stride, deftly maneuvering through the streams of officers and other personnel aboard the ship, cutting through side passages and shrinking her form to duck through a small hatch. Her quarters were located deep within the vessel, far from the potential for an enemy projectile to impact. They were simultaneously plush and utilitarian, the bed itself was a simple affair - olive drab sheets and plain cushions. An enormous desk of sturdy make and brutalist aesthetic dominated the room, at which sat a wide array of pict-screens wired to a powerful cogitator that hummed quietly. Piles of tomes and myriad mechanical intricacies adorned the shelves and a workbench set into an alcove, bristling with tools and the disassembled components of the Xenos’ rifles. A thin privacy screen hid another part of the room from view. The walls were adorned in artwork from her homeworld, many of them surrealist in nature or evidently religiously inspired. A vast chart of the galaxy filled nearly half of one wall, dozens of pins placed on it and connected via notes and threads. “My quarters. Larger than I need, in truth, but comfortable I think.” In truth, Iniephor was a little astonished that she shifted her form so casually. He could manipulate his size as well, but, if he was honest, he found it to be not only discomforting, but also rather disconcerting. In his life he often stared into things alien and abominable, but it was when he himself changed that he most often felt dysphoria. Her quarters as well were quite different to his own inner sanctum. His was books, data slabs and magical artefacts, hers… Well, it was different he had to say. Taking a seat, he would stretch himself out, chuckling a little as she described how she thought the room was a little larger than she needed. “In truth, I appreciate a little lavishness. I grew up in palaces, something like this seems almost drab to me.” Reaching to his hood, he would let it tumble down onto his shoulders; revealing his visage to his sister properly. From the blonde ends of his mane to the horns that jutted out from his temples he had the slightest touch of the bestial to him, but the rest- the kohl around his eyes, the carefully trimmed moustache, was far too tamed to truly give the illusion of a uncivilised savage off. “So then. Where are we to begin?” Eiohsa smiled, “Well, brother-mine, tell me of your homeworld. I know so little of you, our databanks are practically bereft of any and all information of you. I can see that you are a prodigious psyker - obviously the greatest of us all. But what homeworld did you fall on to enkindle such learning and wisdom of the Supermateri- ‘Great Sea’ that you could write such a tome on its nature?” She raised an eyebrow, beckoning to a plain looking but evidently well used chair in the corner of the room, “Please, sit.” “My homeworld…” Iniephor reached up, twirling the hairs of his moustache, lip curling slightly into a half-amused smile. “Knosson.” He would say, definitively, silence hanging in the air for a short while after. “Well, you must understand that my homeworld had little consequence towards my mind. Knosson was a world caught between its past and its future, and I represented the best of both.” “I uncovered the past of my people whilst guiding them towards the future, and it was with every dig that I realised that despite its isolation, Knosson was far from uninhabited before its current settlers made it its home. My explorations into the great sea came later- after I was crowned but before our Father found me.” Eiohsa nodded, her eyes scanning the form of her brother, picking out every eccentricity in his form. She digested his words slowly, “Then you have stood upon the shoulders of giants to gaze deeper into the mysteries of the warp. Who were these earlier inhabitants that not only predate Knosson’s current inhabitants but spurred you to such curiosity? Do you know?” “Hardly. The people of Knosson knew not of what had made the vast, what were to them magical walls that kept them safe from the storms and crashing seas. They understood little of what had scored the surface of her moons, and what lay underneath their feet. They were barely feudal.” He scoffed slightly. “Knosson had been resettled three or four times by humanity; and it was the third one that had stuck the best. They had put up some kind of tidal controllers that kept the cities safe, but then a catastrophe or malady had claimed them and society had degenerated… But beyond the signs of humanity, I found signs of xenos, and then, when I landed on her moons… I met xenos.” Eiohsa raised an eyebrow, her posture shifting visibly as she redoubled her focus. “And, pray tell, what did you do upon meeting them?” She asked, frowning. “Please do not tell me you are yet another Brother who seeks naught but death and annihilation for that which does not share similarities in the temporal form? Do these xenos you met still breathe, or were they destroyed? You seem unlike the others in many ways, so I pray it is the former?” She paused, “And for that matter, who where they?” “I spoke with them, as best I could. They warned me that to investigate the planet would invite doom upon my people, and then we amicably parted. As to what xenos race they were… I do not claim to be an expert on xenos races, and this was but a few minutes of an encounter, and so I cannot truly say. They were tall and lithe; humanoid and graceful. I would not mind meeting them again and talking to them.” “Eldar…” Murmured Eiohsa, her eyes widening in surprise. “They were Eldar, brother. Hated by many within our Imperium. Loathed, purged whenever they’re found.” She frowned, “It is lost upon many that they, like many xenos races we encounter, are not some unified hive mind of malevolence. Those who raid our settlements for slaves and plunder are nothing like those clad in white armor. And yet they look and act different and some of their ilk have committed atrocities, thus they must be purged.” She sighed, “I take it you have had no further contact with them, then? Their presence in the warp is… it is impressive. I know many in the Imperium would seek my end for saying this, but I believe you are not so blind. I hope to learn from them, in truth, the nature and mysteries of the warp and the forgotten, hidden realities of the universe.” “I submit to your authority on this matter then… But enough about me and my homeworld, what about yours? Your daughters are… Peculiar, by the standards of our ostentatious father, and I suspect that there is something lying behind all of that.” Eiohsa raised an eyebrow once more, folding her arms semi-defensively. “Do you refer to our wargear, brother? My Legion sources the bulk of our material from our realm of Saravata, and we found the production of standard Astartes power armor burdensome and overly complicated. The design was fraught with numerous instances of unnecessary waste and material usage in place that conferred almost zero advantage. Thus, utilizing many of the same STC designs and the ingenuity of my own people, we constructed suits of armor that, while somewhat less protective in limited areas, cuts down on the wasteful production techniques and results in a far more cost-effective design. We have further limitation, that the tech-priests of Mars are loathe to grant us more supply than we absolutely need, is the reason for my legion’s utilization of Dracosan pattern fighting vehicles in place of Land Raiders, among other differences. We do not paint our armor in garish colors that do little but signify to enemy forces that we are present. It is a matter of pragmatism, that is all.” “Hmph. It certainly takes a special kind of individual to accuse the Mechanicum of being inefficient to their face, as opposed to merely acknowledging the fact in private. As for colours…” He would shrug. “For the Lantern Bearers, our colours are our pride. Our powers and tactics are not conducive to sneaking through woods, and nor would we wish to adapt them to such. We are the hammer of our Father, and we will smash through with mental power never before seen. But, then again,” he would finish with, grinning a little and displaying perfect pearl white teeth; “different strokes.” Eiohsa returned his grin with one of our own. “I would hardly call the tactics my Daughters use ‘sneaking’. We simply see no reason to give the enemy even more of a target.” Her smile broadened, “Though in truth it is hard to maintain accurate fire when under bombardment from thousands of earthshaker cannons, so that may also be a contributing factor.” She paused for a moment, before continuing. “We utilize rapid mechanized assault tactics with heavy artillery and close air support. There are those who would describe themselves to be hammers, yes. I would describe my legion as a bulldozer.” So the conversation would continue; discussions about this and that, later and later, until both Primarchs had gotten thoroughly acquainted with each other. It was a pleasant scene, so pleasant that it was easy to forget that below them men and women and xenos alike were fighting and dying by the droves, but such was the way of the Imperium. With a shake of their hands and a promise to work together in the future the two would depart, and thus, the galaxy’s fate changed the littlest of paths. [hr] [h3] ... End log ... Terminating connection Thought for the day: Abhor the Malevolent. Cherish the Good. The Fate of All rests upon thy shoulders.[/h3]