Chương 82: Chapter Twenty-Six: They Came From the Stars (Part V)
"I don't know if any of you knew this, either from the records or speaking with Malcador, but the Orks were the first sapient alien species humanity encountered. My own efforts to prepare humanity for that dreadful possibility were almost not enough." the Emperor continued in a monotonous chant of grim data and horrible memories. "The ancient Cylinder and Cyro Ships had been lucky. The found innumerable worlds fit for habitation, misplaced inheritance from the Old Ones and Aeldari that could, and would, fill the galaxy with life. Those ancient predictions in the days of Drake and Fermi were laughably inaccurate. Life is common in our galaxy, but so is death. The Greenskins act as the ultimate filter of sapient life. Without fail, they will destroy those without a great capacity for violence from the face of the cosmos. This galaxy is the brutalized remnants of a no-man's land from a war millions of years ago, filled with countless horrors unleashed by that dreadful conflict. To survive the unbound weapons of that war, successful sapient life must be capable of profound cruelty and viciousness."
Before Marcus could respond the twins spoke, using Alpharius's voice but sharing the same mind and soul. "What are you saying, father? How do the Orks and psychic awakening relate to the policy of Xenocide?"
An utterly out of character grimace flickered over the Emperor's features before he responded to his youngest sons. "In the days before the Age of Strife, when the Primordial Annihilator barely stirred, and when the fickle Aeldari still culled the Greenskins, it was possible for sane, righteous species to survive in this galaxy. That is not the case any longer. The Warp is now fully awake, stirred into a festering nightmare not seen in millions of years by PA6's birth. Products of countless fallen empires and long-forgotten conflicts stalk the stars. Time is running out, the Star-Eaters and their slaves awaken soon. Now, this galaxy can only produce broken and foul sapients, subject to the whispers of Chaos and similar predation. The galactic Dark Age we call Old Night is not unique to mankind. Every other civilization and species not already enslaved by Chaos or destroyed by the Age of Strifes calamities have been mutilated."
Pausing the Emperor pulled a hefty tome from his tunic's folds. With a slight telekinetic push, he levitated the book over to his sons. The Chronicles of Ursh fell into Marcus's lap and opened to a page describing the forces of Overlord Kalagann himself. Armies of Daemonhosts, Gene-Drinking Cyber-Strigoi, Wraithsinger Necromancers, Shackled Silica Intelligences, and even stranger things beyond written description. Watching the Primarchs look over the pre-unification text, the Emperor continued.
"The Old Night has reduced much of mankind to horrible monsters. Abominations unfitting to be called Homo Sapian infest many worlds and engage in foul heresy on incredible scales. Ursh was just one example of these degenerate human cultures. It and others like it are what humanity will devolve into if we do not salvage what we can in the Great Crusade. With hindsight, we can look back at how I bested Kalagann and wiped Ursh from the face of Terra, but it was no certain thing. On more than one occasion, the fate of the homeworld hung by a thread. Any battle I personally fought I could win, but I cannot be everywhere at once. City-states sworn to my banner were reduced to corrupted ash at every opportunity the Urshites saw, the alliance I later consolidated into the early Imperium almost collapsed at least twice. If it had, Terra would have been swallowed piecemeal by Ursh, ensuring mankind's damnation."
Staring at the Primarchs with a dread focus, Revelation growled. "That was the situation here on Terra, on a planet under the direct protection of an Anathema. In a situation, I had prepared for and anticipated to a degree. I have groomed mankind to survive the horrors of this cosmos over my lifetime, ensuring we were strong and cruel enough to survive the Orks and Chaos, yet still worthy of existing. I've guided the genetic and cultural development of this species to walk a razor's edge between weakness and strength. I tempered our worst nature but never letting humanity be its best version. By my will bloody wars, countless atrocities, and multiple genocides have occurred. All were done to ensure humanity might survive. All of that effort and horror to keep a single species on the golden path. That is what it took to keep the Age of Strife from swallowing Humanity whole. Leaving enough for us to salvage after a disaster the likes not seen since the War in Heaven's end. Mankind faces a perilous path to avoid extinction, the presence of Xenos makes that path even more difficult. It is a risk I cannot allow us to take, the fate of trillions rests on our ability to sacrifice what we must."
The bitter anger and spite that washed off the Emperor were unlike anything the Primarchs had ever seen. The normal golden radiance of the Human Anathema's being shifted. From the glow of sunlight and polished gold to the sterile sick shine of white-hot radiation. The Emperor's true name of Atham translates into Revelation, the one who lays bare. And at that moment a part of the Emperor's nature was revealed to his sons. He was an immortal monster who intended to break the universe to his will and force the very cosmic into subservience. Defy fate, reason, morality, mortality, and everything else in the name of enforcing his vision. A part of Revelation no less true than the Ancient Sage, Eternal Warrior, Divine Father, or any other aspect the Primarchs and other witnesses have seen. The Emperor intended to save the human race at any cost. The ugly truth of that fact and what it might mean was sobering for the Primarchs.
"If the Age of Strife has caused such damage, what about Xeno's born after it or too young to be affected by it?" Tengri Khagan, the stoic Vth Primarch asked. "Such youthful species might reach compliance easily, sparing bloodshed and a stain on our honor. Our duty is to protect humanity, should that not also include protecting its soul?"
Slowly the anger faded from the Emperor's face as he responded. "To protect humanity's soul is exactly why we can have no tolerance for the Xeno. I cannot protect alien intellects in any fashion. Not in life or death, and methods of detecting corruption are not universal across species. Each Xeno alive and in contact with humanity is a potential vector for Chaos or other infections."
Cutting off Tengri before he could respond the Emperor continued. "Even if we develop foolproof methods of stopping corruption in such vassal races we would face more mundane threats from them. No sapient species would accept subservience to something fully Alien. The accounts of Xeno's treachery after the Iron War are exaggerated but there were some truly horrible betrayals. Malcador and I estimate the Great Crusade will only be the beginning of the coming wars. If we are lucky, humanity will only face fifteen thousand solar years of unending warfare. The potential dangers of 'loyal' Xeno vassals might destroy us all. The Shining Path is so precariously thin, any such distractions might end in the death of not just humanity but the entire Universe. The Primordial Annihilator is rising, the Star Gods will not sleep for much longer and the Great Devourer stalks between galaxies. So much work lies before us, becoming distracted by such hypotheticals serves no purpose."
With unexpected venom Konrad Cruze interjected. "What's the point of surviving all of this if humanity just ends up as monstrous as the things my brothers and I were born to kill? After countless Xenocides and aborted timelines, mankind would become so tainted that it would be like nothing we did matters. Why stop the Yngir, Chaos or anything else if all we do is replace them with a version of humanity as brutal and vicious as them? Why not just fight for the best possible fate of the most humans, instead of aiming for a nearly impossible endgame that will drown the galaxy in blood?"
For three seconds, forty-two hearts stopped. Sheer rage poured off the Emperor of Mankind in waves of fury. It was enough to stun the Primarchs, knockout nearby servants, and permanently kill half a dozen minor Daemons hiding in the Warp near Terra. An intensity that had literally cracked Planets and tore Stars from the firmament was turned on the Primarchs for a few terrible moments. In a voice, they more felt than heard the Master of Mankind growled out a response.
"Because death is eternal, extinction cannot be reversed. It eliminates every possibility of a being's future. Including the most important thing any who sin or fail can do. Redeem themselves. If the monsters in the dark are allowed to win it will make every struggle against them pointless. Every life lost, soul broken, mind wounded in the efforts to stop those myriad evils would have been wasted. If humanity wins and finally exiles the nightmares into myth, then the true work can begin. The universe could be rebuilt in a better image, planting the seeds of Paradise across a billion galaxies. Every atrocity, every death might be redeemed by a trillion better lives."
Soon the anger dissipated and a rare bit of insight into the Emperor of Mankind became apparent. He could not give up, he had given so much and done so many things in this pursuit of a redeemed Galaxy. For close to forty thousand years, a single human had stood virtually alone against the worst possible things imaginable. He was a scared, exhausted old man trying with all his might to protect those he cared about at any cost. A being who would do anything to save the species entrusted to him, only seeking the reward of a peaceful rest when his charge was safe. Like the ancient Gyptian Prince he had guided through the desert the Emperor knew he would not live to see the promised land, only long enough to ensure his people's journey was at an end.
The shock was evident on the Twenty Brothers' faces. It is the nature of their Father to reveal and illuminate, and nothing can be as great and terrible as the Truth. Seeing the surprise and feeling a twinge of guilt, Revelation regained his composure and looked at the floor and the planet beneath him. Feeling the ages of life and death below, a billion-year history of the homeworld echoing in the spiritual galaxy of the Emperor. In a sad bitter voice, painfully human in its tone he spoke.
"Even if there was a way, even if we could save some precious few Xenos, it is only delaying the inevitable. The Shining Path is one mankind cannot share. How loyal and supportive will our allies and vassals be when they learn there can only be one ascendant species? Oh, my sons, we argue over hypotheticals and theoreticals when destiny is already written in this regard. It's better to just wipe the Alien out now when mankind is still savage enough to stomach the deed"
The Primarchs knew their father hid secrets and mysteries beyond even them. Hints of which they were only just starting to see. Even Marcus started to wonder what dreadful visions and facts was the Emperor privy to that made him so certain of this grim proclamation. Silence filled the amphitheater for a long moment until the Magi shattered it. Magnus Rubicar, the XV Primarch spoke with adamant confidence: "You are wrong father."
Standing up, the destined Master of the Golden Throne turned his gaze to the Emperor and continued. "This is just like our first conversation, the one before my birth. All your knowledge and power, and yet you only see the options before you. Fate, destiny, impossibilities are all the talk of the Gods. Not of what you are, what we are. We are human and in the face of two bad options, we make a third. That's why you created us, is it not father? To do the impossible? So why not let us try in this regard. Even we do not have the right to condemn entire species on theory and prediction. We might not have a solution now, but we will find one. Let us judge the Xeno on their own merit."
Letting out a deep sigh, the Master of Mankind did what all parents must eventually do. He began to acknowledge his children might have knowledge and insight that he lacked. "You speak true Magnus, we will defer the Xeno question to see if another answer is found. Until then, use your judgment in the coming wars. But be warned: if any spared Xenobreed proves unworthy of your mercy, then passing judgment and facing the consequences of such failings will fall to you. I hope none of you experience what I have, standing over a world burned by one spared in an act of kindness."
As the discussion finished the Emperor hoped that when the inevitable consequences of this leniency came it would fall within his more favorable predictions. If his sons needed to learn this lesson through fire and iron so be it. He just hoped by the end they would forgive him, and themselves.
Date: 888.M30. (One Solar Month after the Battle of Tragedy)
Location: The Crypt Huaca aboard The Righteous Fury, Flagship of the XII Legion.
She had died sometime after Baraca entered Shellmounte Nonus. Hidamia the Brave passed on in the company of a few close attendants and long-serving Astartes guards. Sharp and strong-willed until the very end, she listened to the battle reports as she entered her final moments. As victory was announced and her adopted son's acceptance of the Trileen's offer of surrender and negotiation became known, Hidamia the Brave had been born a slave, fought for her freedom, and lived a life of honor and dignity. Now that life that had helped shape a Demigod ended. Her official last words were recorded as "Only in death does duty end." as according to Imperial tradition. But only her closest aide and friend holding her hand at the end heard the second sentence. One that was saved for her son alone. "Be more than a great man Baraca, be a good one."
A message that the XII Primarch had taken to his very core. A message that echoed in his mind as the Primarch looked at the simple urn where his mother's remains rested until they could be cast into the recently revived Atlan Ocean of Terra. Speaking to a memory that would live eternal in his divine mind Baraca Themistar spoke. "The Trileen have gladly accepted our terms and are already crafting crude Aquilia flags out of coral dyes. The Orks are gone and we are moving to meet with Horus and Iskandar pushing deeper into the Wastes. Ogadin is moving to help the Abhuman coreworlders, Culian and Kota are pushing in as well. And who knows where Tengri and his sons have gotten to. Sorry for making this sound like a military report Mother. It's just hard to say this and I'm stalling. Thank you for everything, goodbye and I will always love you"
Wiping away the beginning of a tear forming in the corner of his eye, the Warhound of Mankind felt his emotions come and then fade as he centered himself. Looking down at his left hand, the scar his father's gift had created itched painfully. Reacting to his intense emotions for some unknown reason. Taking a deep breath Baraca left the Crypt and went to join his sons. There were oaths yet to be fulfilled and duties to be carried out.
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