One by one, the containers of ashes were sent into the void, accompanied by the entire crew and the Primarch himself. It took a long time to collect the remains, because sometimes all that was left of the soldiers was biomass melted by psychic fire. Everything that was found was simply burned and poured into the fraternal urns, because it was impossible to determine the identity of the fallen comrades among the remains. And to this day, the unimaginable loss echoed with pain in the hearts, filling Moiran with a sense of guilt.
He had decided that he had the right to shape his own destiny and determine his own path. It was his idea that the whole point of his Legion was to conquer the Warp and make it a docile beast on a leash. And because of his decisions, a humiliating slap from the Dark Prince brought the entire Legion to its knees, branding each one with eternal shame for their incredible audacity.
However, the more the darkness grew over Moiran's thoughts, the more determination filled his soul. Moreover, by removing Shay from the position of First Captain, he also handed over the role of right-hand man to another Space Marine, who should never be allowed too close to him. The snake's hiss sounded in Moiran's ear day after day, pushing him to yet another act of madness. All this happened unnoticed, and no one in the Legion noticed.
The heresy had already been sown, and while it would be decades before one of the Primarchs would fall into heresy, the first heretic was already sending his vile tentacles deep into all the Legions. The future of the Great Crusade had been sealed before it had even begun.
"Form up!" Lancelot ordered, and all the pilots and their support troops took up their positions in the Knights' hangars.
We had barely bid farewell to the dead and dealt with the aftermath of the battle against the forces of the warp when Moiran gave the order for another warp jump. And right now the fleet was flying through the darkness, deep behind enemy lines, preparing to do what Moiran believed would save his legion from the Father's punishment. The Emperor valued efficiency, and it was time to show the Imperium that the Eleventh Legion could deal with the enemies of Mankind better than any other legion, even the Dark Angels.
And the ships shuddered at the moment of exiting the warp, exiting almost simultaneously at the edge of the system controlled by Rangda. Right now, million-strong garrisons rose to arms in horror and tens of thousands of fortresses, located both on satellites and on the multi-billion planet, were brought to full combat readiness. If Taksala was the capital and heart of Rangda, then this place was the lungs of its fleet and army. Trying to take such fortifications at once was sheer madness and suicide. However, in the opinion of many, Moiran had already gone mad, unable to cope with the shame and dreaming of earning forgiveness.
Instantly, the entire vox-communication came to life and with a roar in every compartment of every ship, the voice of Moiran was heard, already rushing in a shuttle back to his flagship.
— DEFENDERS OF HUMANITY!!! TODAY WE HAVE A CHANCE TO END THE BLOODY WAR WITH THE VILE ENEMY!!! TAKING THIS SYSTEM WILL DISARM RANGDA!!! NO ONE BELIEVE THAT WE WILL COP WITH THIS TASK, BUT WE DO NOT NEED THEIR FAITH!!! BECAUSE I KNOW WHO I HAVE BEEN FIGHTING SIDE BY SIDE ALL THESE CENTURIES!!! WE WILL BREAK THE BACK OF XENOS AND THE EMPEROR HIMSELF WILL APPEAR TO REWARD US FOR OUR FAITHFUL SERVICE!!! THE CAPTURE OF HERELIANA WILL FOREVER GO DOWN IN HISTORY!!!
And each soldier responded with a roar, wanting to take out all the accumulated pain on the enemy. Deprived of many comrades and loved ones, each member of the crew was ready to go on the attack with grim determination to find forgiveness for the weakness shown or eternal peace. Even if almost a third of the combat capability was lost, all this would be compensated by the animal rage that more than once saved humanity on the way to the top of the food chain.
I was about to climb into my Knight and prepare to land on the satellite of the outer planet of the system, where the enemy augur complex was located, when suddenly Lancelot's voice was heard in the vox transmitter.
- Don't rush, Mordred, you are not participating in the first assault.
- What do you mean? - I asked immediately, not understanding what reason there could be to not allow me to participate in the first wave.
Auspex was a collective term for Imperial early warning and scanning devices. Of course, Rangda had its own name, and the technology was vastly different from ours, but the gist of it was that the satellite of Gereliana-8 contained thermal, radiation, radio wave and other radiation stations. Almost all forms of energy produced by any target were captured, and so the first thing to do was to strike at that point before moving on to the main colony of that system.
There was no reason not to use the Knights for such an important task, much less to use me for the first assault wave. So Lancelot's statement surprised me greatly.
- You are going to the dock, to Moiran, along with the other candidates.
— Which candidates?
"I don't know, but that's Moiran's order. If we survive the siege, you'll tell me. And..." Lancelot suddenly fell silent, then gathered his courage and added, "I was unfair to you. You're a worthy knight, Mordred."
After this, Lancelot gave the order to prepare for landing, and while the cruisers and destroyers crashed into the enemy's reorganizing fleet, the heavy flagship was preparing to enter the orbit of the only satellite of Gereliana-8 in order to bring down all its power with nuclear fire on the heads of the xenos, who did not expect such suicidal audacity from the Imperium.
I rushed to the dock faster than the wind to demand an explanation from the Primarch. My comrades were going into battle to the death, and I was deprived of the right to go with them. I had to lead them and cover the auxiliary regiments with my firepower. No other Knight possessed the psychic power to do what I could. Talk could wait, it was time to act!
However, having already arrived in the hangar and having seen the others who had come at Moiran's call, I suddenly understood what the Primarch of the Eleventh Legion had decided to bet on. Apparently, what had happened recently had taught him nothing. He had gathered all the surviving psykers and those close to him, as well as the surviving cursed artefacts, which had not yet been handed over to the candidates, but were resting in containers covered with seals of purity, not for beauty at all.
- Only the strong have the right to decide their fate, and today I offer you to take this power, - I arrived here last and immediately Moiran began to bring everyone up to date. - You have already looked into the face of the true enemy and survived the encounter, albeit not without hardships. While the souls of your friends were torn apart and became toys of demons, you resisted and adapted. Therefore, you have a much better chance of curbing the damned power.
The words were a shock, but Moiran had already made his decision, and what's more, there were no random people among those present. They all shared the primarch's beliefs in one way or another. Space Marines and mere mortals were ready to go beyond the edge and challenge the entities of the warp to bring their power down on Rangda.
— But the risks are high, too high, even for you. Therefore, you must undergo a final check. You know that the Second Legion has always been close to us. Some of you felt its influence throughout the Great Crusade. Their pariah gene is so strong that it is lethal even to mere mortals, and even more so to the psi-sensitive. They will guarantee that even if you give in to weakness, you will not have time to harm those for whom you are ready to give up even your humanity. This is not an order, only an opportunity. Each of you is free to refuse. The rest of you, board the shuttles.
A gloomy silence fell over all those gathered. Taking the damned sword in hand and rushing to cut down all the enemies left and right was tempting and easy. But visiting the ship of the second legion, which even at a distance of kilometers inspired contempt and disgust... was scary. Moreover, not everyone would be able to pass the test, and most of those gathered were quite psi-sensitive in one way or another. Many would die before they had the opportunity to unleash their increased forces on the enemy.
However, Moiran could not act otherwise. He was confident in his own strength, in the strength of the chosen ones who had already visited the ships. But to give everyone the damned artefacts... everything would end very badly. The Primarch of the Second Legion, who insisted on such a decision, thought the same, having managed to convince Moiran and silence the snake whispers of the heretics who had already fallen into the power of chaos.
One way or another, the majority decided on such madness. Only a tenth could humbly accept the fact that they would not cope with such a task. It was not fear or weakness, rather the opposite, because only a third of all will return. And those who initially correctly assessed their own strength will be able to serve the Imperium, and those who, because of pride, imagined themselves to be the chosen ones ... they will simply die trying to do the impossible.
I doubted longer than others. I was tormented by the worst thoughts and the question of whether my soul would be able to be reborn after something like this? If Shai's stories were to be believed, the pariahs created an impenetrable field and severed the connection between the physical world and the immaterium. Thus, the soul simply could not go anywhere and died.
That's why the demons were afraid of them, although it's also worth understanding that an ordinary pariah, even if he was near a slain demon prince, would not be able to cause final death. After all, the soul and the density of the warp around such a creature are much higher, as is his strength. As in the case of psykers, the strength of the pariah was important. And the strength of the second legion in this regard was the maximum, there was probably no one in the entire galaxy who could compare with them. Therefore, my death could really be final.
And in general I didn't care about it, but I felt sorry for the bird. But on the other hand, although it is connected to my soul, it originally existed in the warp. That is, the death of my soul will harm it, but it will not be able to kill it, because its essence was mostly in the Immaterium. Although what in this case is considered death? Technically, I will also have a reflection in the warp, just without self-awareness and personality. Or not?
Trying to understand something you don't understand was extremely difficult, but in the end, I made my decision. If there was a way to screw Tzeentch, this was it. The Second Legion with such an impenetrable field was beyond the control of any of the chaos gods, they could not be tracked, and even when near them, Tzeentch was forced to retreat from the puppets' minds.
That was why he had started all this, because such a variable in his universal equation was unanalyzable and chaotic. He could only guess at what the Second Legion was doing and what he was planning. In this regard, even the Emperor was much easier to figure out, incredibly easier.
And although everything that had happened had already happened, even after ten thousand years Tzeentch could not shake off the thought that he had missed something, had miscalculated somewhere and had not taken into account some extremely important fact. This thought did not give him peace and frankly frightened him, drove him crazy and intensified his already frequent attacks of paranoia. And although the other gods laughed at him, Tzeentch continued to dig and explore, launching one puppet after another into the maelstrom of the past to find that very missed detail that could destroy all the plans of the dark gods.
I took a step and sat down in the shuttle, after which I closed my eyes and began to feel strange emotions and feelings appearing in me as I approached. Pariahs were considered mutants, as were navigators and psykers. They were the curse of the Imperium, without which it could not exist. Sometimes a Pariah could not even know about her mutation, but her fate was already predetermined. After all, because of this aura, everyone around her subconsciously rejected the mutant.
It was the same now, while still flying to the ship of the second legion, I felt contempt and hatred for the second legion appearing in me. There were no rational reasons for this, but I had no power over my own feelings and emotions. And gradually the rejection began to manifest itself as a full-fledged mental pain. I began to be torn apart from the inside, and then one of the candidates next to me grabbed his heart and froze. Forever.
The souls were under tremendous stress and their physical bodies could not always withstand the strain. In this regard, it was much easier for the trained Astartes and their chances of surviving the visit of the Second Legion ship were much higher. I suddenly began to feel like I was going crazy and dying. However, this was just the tip of the iceberg, because very soon we docked and pure hell began.
Only thanks to the presence of the Primarch and his chosen, we were covered by a psi-shroud. But even it was breaking and wasting away extremely quickly. And the power of the few legionaries was as terrible as the uncontrolled power of the Primarch of the Second Legion himself. Only the same soulless pariahs or machines, the production of which was banned in the Imperium by the Emperor himself, could exist in this hell. After all, once before, the AI rebellion had dealt a blow to Humanity. However, for the Second Legion, the use of advanced AI technologies and xenotech was the only chance to somehow survive.
As I walked through the corridors, I kept catching the eye of some of the legionnaires. They were very different from the other astartes. Horrible mutations prevented them from taking the final form of a space marine. Many did not receive the black carapace because their bodies were simply not ready for it. They were also much shorter in stature, and their internal organs… the arrangement and set differed from one legionnaire to another.
Moreover, among the mutants there were even... women, because when it came to finding and recruiting pariahs, one could not turn up one's nose. In addition, the legion's gene-seed took root equally poorly in any case and sometimes it was better to take at least some candidate. Also, the process of becoming a space marine and implanting gene-seed organs was significantly distorted and changed.
As a result, the average Space Marine of the Second Legion, if he survived, remained much more like an ordinary person. They had power armor, but the model was completely different and had little in common with the armor of other Astartes. And seeing all this, I also understood that the Primarch himself would be very different. But to what extent... I could not even imagine and because of this I was very horrified when we entered the ceremonial hall.
Here were the psi-emitters and psi-suppressors, thanks to which the second legion trained its only strong side. They were also needed for at least some comfort of Moiran, who suffered every second during long flights. They were created back in the days when the second legion thought that it would be able to eradicate its mutations or somehow weaken them.
Indeed, prototypes of such technologies existed, it was possible to reduce the null field around the pariah to make it more stealthy and less hostile to others. After all, the Emperor made extensive use of the Sisters of Silence in the Crusade and the last thing he wanted was for the enemy's instincts to scream at the approach of these warriors.
However, in the case of the Second Legion, such artefacts were of little use. They did suppress the pariah gene, but overall, nothing changed. In the case of the Primarch, using artefacts was useless. His null field simply could not be suppressed, just as he himself was not particularly successful in controlling his own mutation. The only thing he learned was not to interfere so much with Moiran doing his job.
"God Emperor, save and protect..." escaped me involuntarily when I saw the Primarch of the Second Legion sitting on the throne.
He was not tall and majestic, did not resemble a demigod, but looked more like... like a leper who was about to die. He was barely two meters tall, the power armor was made as light as possible so as not to burden the primarch unnecessarily. Because of this, against the background of the same Moiran or even a space marine, he seemed small and skinny, although he was much taller than any ordinary person.
His lungs had not worked for a long time and the ventilation of the lungs was carried out artificially, because of which the death rattle was constantly heard. He should have died, tried to do it himself several times, but Moiran did not let it happen and gradually the will of the second legion hardened. Instead of the easy way, they chose life, dedicating it to finding a cure for their own illness and helping the brothers of the eleventh, the only ones who did not turn away from them.
"Greetings, brother," the Primarch of the Second Legion said hoarsely, rising from his throne. "You look bad, you should have taken more time to rest before rushing into battle."
And immediately after that, bursting into a terrible cough, the primarch immediately sat back down, not standing on his feet for even a minute.
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