Kapitel 53: Chapter Twenty-Three: On Silver Wings (Part II)
Trembling with emotion Dante hugged his father and burst into tears. Looking up at Revelation the young Primarch asked in between sobs. "The-then what a-about the rage within me? How can tha-that be good for mankind? I fear what might happen if I lose control!"
Staring into his son's eyes Revelation could see the wrath within Dante. This was no foul pollutant of emotion like the blood-hunger of Chaos. Nor the petty rage of tyrants and thugs. What lay within his Ninth Son was righteous fury. Mankind's incarnate struggle against the dying of the light. "Oh my son" the unwilling Master of Mankind spoke.
"That rage within you is not some petty temper of mortals. When I say you are incarnate of mankind's hopes and dreams. I do not speak in metaphor. Along with each of your siblings, you are bound to humanity in a unique way. You, Dante, are what mankind dreams of. What we hope and need for the future. Dante my son, you were born to ensure mankind's survival and fulfill its hopes of a better future. On some primal level you can feel what humanity needs to survive. Of all your psychic and physical might, that is the power that sets you apart from your brothers. It touches your mind and carves itself into for better or worse. This power is valuable beyond words and dangerous too. What mankind needs is not always what we would wish. Mankind needs the beauty, heroism, and compassion you are capable of. It also needs the desperate fury and infinite hate inside of you. We want, and we need to strike back against this sadistic cosmos. To survive in this galaxy, the ability to create and protect is sadly not enough. We must also be able to destroy. Dante that fury inside you is mankinds. It is the rage of trillions suffering at the hands of our enemies. It is the bitter fury of the survivor hoping to push back the dark just one more night. You will use that rage, that hate to do good. Just as you will with your compassion and love. To survive our people need an Angel of Wrath as well as an Angel of Hope."
Absorbing this knowledge the Primarch sat there with his father for a long time. Slowly but surely new understanding entered him. Looking past his fear and trepidation. Dante looked, truly looked at the rage inside of him. Past the screams for blood and vengeance he saw it for what it truly was. It was the pain of trillions. The calls for aid that would never come. The maddening rage and grief of a mother desperately trying to ward away cerebevores from her children. Shock and hatred of a militiaman on some distant world realizing the Orks treated the destruction of his homeland like a sport. Bitter fury pouring off a child who watched her grandmother be fed to the sacrificial pits once she grew to infirm to slave away. The human species wanted to survive and it wanted vengeance. To finally strike back against the evils of the universe. To break the things of nightmares and finally know they were safe.
Swearing a silent oath to himself Dante decided from this day forward what he would be. To the lost children of Terra, he would be a deliverance on Silver Wings. To the cosmos's myriad of evils he would be a Destroying Angel. Like the Elohim of Terran myths, he would protect the chosen people and be blazing doom to their foes.
Location: Vostroya, Northern Segmentum Obscurus
Date: 890.M30
The lessons taught and the knowledge gained that fateful evening would echo for centuries to come. Particularly during the early years of Imperial expansion into the galactic north. When the great Primarch Dante Uriael and the IX Legion were dispatched on the first expedition to those distant reaches. The IX was renowned across the growing Imperium for its compassion, honor, heroism and martial talent. From Lord-Commander to Neophyte the Legion was forged in the Primarchs image. Skilled in more than the ways of War. The IX Legion is a brotherhood of artists and soldiers. Renowned for winning the compliances of hundreds of worlds. Through refined diplomacy or red-tinged fury. Ranking both in the top three for martial victories and peaceful unification among the twenty legions. These combined reputations and countless merits earned the IX the arduous task of entering the mysterious stars of the galactic north.
A region with scant records and little contact with the rest of the galaxy. The Halo Stars and Ghoul Stars formed a grim crown for the galaxy. Places rife with legends and stories of monsters and fiends. The Imperium had focused on a balanced path of expansion across the galaxy to ensure supply lines were not overstretched or threats were overlooked. Logiticians and other experts in math-lore estimated the Imperium would make its first forays into the galactic north by 925.M30. Recent events had forced the Imperium to move up the time table and dispatch the IX Legion in a macro-expedition to the sectors that bordered both Halo and Ghoul stars.
This exceptional act of dispatching an entire Crusader Fleet and accompanying forces was not without reason. Disturbing reports were coming in from the Imperial system of Vostroya. The industrial world of Vostroya Prime was one of the more important centers of Imperial power in the Segmentum Obscurus. Recently a worrying event rocked the system. Thousands of warp-signatures erupted without warning at the Mandeville point. A massive fleet of unknown origin was warping into the System. Astropathic distress calls were sent. The systems PDF and Mechanicum maniples readied for battle. As the unknown fleet entered into realspace it was bombarded with Vostroyan scans and hails. No response came and the fleet of countless divergent vessel designs simply hung in the void. Silent as the grave.
A strike force of resupplying Solar Auxilia quickly assembled and prepared to board the largest ship in the Ghost Fleet. All auspex scans came up with no signs of life and only the bare minimum of ship functions. Once aboard the seemingly abandoned vessel, they were shocked when its primary airlock opened itself to them. Preparing for the worse the soldiers entered the vessel.
As they skulked through the empty halls of the ship it became apparent something was incredibly wrong. The ship had been vented of atmosphere and its systems seemed to be only operating at the bare minimum to ensure functioning. The first sign the ship was, or at least had been crewed appeared as they approached the bridge. A single human hand clenched around a support bar. Frozen solid and severed at the wrist it showed all the signs of rapid-decompression and void-death. Suddenly very thankful for the Solar Pattern armor they wore. The Auxilia continued into the vessel.
Signs of violence dotted the hallways as they drew closer to the bridge. Las-burns dotted bulkheads. Flattened slugs dented the metal walls, and most worrying of all. Claw marks and blast-patterns of psychic lightning covered the floor and walls. Finally, the imperial scouts reached the Bridges entrance. A hulking door of solid alloys and wardings against warp-predators. Countless scratches were etched into the door. The frantic clawing of human hands leaving trails of frozen blood and much larger cuts made by alien talons.
After checking the surroundings and laying down detection-webs the Auxilia got to work cutting through the scarred bulk-head door. Even with plasma-cutters, it took the Imperials a while to carve an entrance into the bridge. Once inside they found the command deck nearly empty. Its portholes and the faint flicker of cogitator runes the only light. Igniting a few lux-globes the Auxilia spread throughout the Bridge. At the vessels command throne, they found all that remained of the ship's crew. Literally bolted into the command throne was a void-mummified corpse.
The Ship's captain had strapped himself to the throne and kept the ship on course, even into death. If the rigor-mortis grips on the console were any indication. As if sensing their presence the bridge suddenly came to life. Great data-feeds projected forth and started displaying runes and messages recorded by the ship's crew. The tongue and writing system of the ship had diverged significantly from Gothic. Of all the information only two were recognized by the Auxilia. The Skull and Crossed Bone and the three open circles of Biohazard. Symbols born on Ancient Terra and kept across the stars to mean Death and Diseases.
Documenting everything they could the Auxilia prepped themselves for decontamination and left the ghost ship. Similar discoveries were found aboard the entire fleet. Most lacking a captain, and the ship's Machine Spirits slaved to the capital ships will. A Magos Biolagos and his entourage was quickly summoned alongside Dialectic and Cultural experts to decipher the ghost fleet mystery.
The results came back quickly. An unknown Xeno threat had attacked the fleets home system and unleashed a number of mutagenic bio-weapons. In a desperate attempt to flee the Alien onslaught a fleet of hastily assembled refugee ships were launched to the last contacted human system, Vostroya. Infected humans or disguised Xenos, the data was unclear. However, managed to sneak aboard the vessels. The survivors and crew fought valiantly but were quickly overrun as the infection spread through the fleet. Granting the quickly mutating subject to the Xeno Curse a malicious intellect and physical properties beyond mortal humans. As death stalked closer with each passing day and the uninfected found themselves being pushed farther and farther back. The fleet captain made a fateful decision. It was better to die human than let the monsters use him and his fleet to attack another human system. Final messages were recorded. Tearful farewells to a family long dead, and snippets of information on the Alien threat. Then in a final desperate act the fleet exited the warp. Opened all airlocks and shut down all atmospheric systems. Jettisoning everything in the fleet. Freezing and voiding both Xeno and humans alike. Leaving the bridges with just enough air to allow them to plot a new jump into the warp.
This dead fleet had flowed on the Sea of Souls currents for over a century. Finally exiting at Vostroya, carrying a message to all who would listen. This light flung into the future would not go unnoticed. The Imperium of Mankind would avenge the Ghost Fleet and the lost worlds it hailed from. The IX Legion and Primarch Dante Uriael aboard his flagship the Sephirah had arrived at Vostroya. With wings of mercy and blades of wrath, the Imperium was coming. Nothing would stop the Imperial Angel and his sons.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein