Preview for the next update to show that I'm still alive, just been busy with IRL. Hope you all have been well in the meantime, and look forward to more content in the coming days!
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"The Bishop's Boundary"
Tristan could not remember the last time he had found himself enjoying the quiet of the Eisernen's Dodekatheon, his creative process uninterrupted thanks to the complete lack of others present. As the days passed by his recovery had nearly finished, meaning Richter was not going to trouble him over leaving Ossus' office finally. This freedom earned by swift healing was used by Tristan to resume work on fixing his armor and integrating prototype weapons to better combat Palamedes in the future.
None of the other members of the Dodekatheon had been present, and rather than question it Tristan had just accepted the optimal work conditions…after all he barely knew the names of his fellow members, not out of disrespect but from his narrow focus in all matters meaning that he simply never bothered to get to know them. His solitary nature meant that even though they had shared a space for decades he felt no need to greet or acknowledge them, and as Iron Warriors their own grim natures meant they barely cared more than Tristan did about who was building something in the next workshop over.
This peace was not meant to last however, the heavy footsteps of the Warsmith in his full armor making themselves known well before Jarn ever spoke. Tristan had been so focused on returning to work once more that he had not bothered to contemplate why he had not seen any members of the crew, mortal or Astarte, and so like a misbehaving child surprised by the sudden appearance of their father Tristan felt a moment of apprehension.
He should probably be somewhere else right now, shouldn't he?
"While you no doubt enjoy the quiet for your work, there is a matter that requires your attendance as we arrive at our docks. You can resume your experimentation when you return," Jarn spoke in a tone halfway between warmth and bemusement, once again having to fetch Tristan from his work.
The Space Wolves' Helfrost weaponry being dissected and studied on his table spoke their own story of why Tristan was so focused, but Jarn would not chide Tristan over demonstrating the very traits of intelligence and determination that had Jarn recruit him.
Reluctant to leave his work half-finished, Tristan still pulled himself up from where he sat on the floor, having wanted to get close to the circuitry he was fiddling with and his height forcing him to abandon his chair to lower himself. Jarn's will was his own, whatever it might be, something Tristan had accepted many years ago.
To join the Warsmith Tristan moved past the remains of dissected AMBOTs acquired from Asier's Necromundan agents as well as the related blueprints and designs for large harvesting drones utilizing his capsule technology. His mind was that of an inventor with countless projects laying about him whenever he worked, shifting between them as his attention was drawn by one or when a discovery afforded him progress in another.
Jarn glanced at the various tasks Tristan had been engaged with and decided to humor his student and surrogate son and the two began to discuss his projects as Jarn led Tristan to their destination.
"Helfrost weaponry is effective, but limited. It is unfortunate that for all their similarities that Kimara does not possess the same power sources that Fenris does for them."
In sharp contrast to the entire weeks Tristan would go without speaking or terse conversations with the crew, when afforded the opportunity to speak of his inventions he did so at length. Perhaps his general exhaustion and aches from the conflict with Palamedes had lowered his restraint, but Jarn noted some degree of pride as Tristan spoke which begot pride from the one who led him down this path.
"One does not expect scientific progress from mere canines: even if their keen senses discover something noteworthy they can never truly understand its value. The sons of Russ share different values to us: their crystals afford them raw power to fuel their weaponry at the cost of limiting their production. With alternate power sources you can achieve similar results on a far greater scale, allowing the equipment of an army rather than a select few."
"Using the principles of their Helfrost weapons I believe I can create ammunition that will achieve similar effects, though I require more data to expand my research: the Hoarverns of Kimara have records in the Eisernen's databanks that lead me to believe further study would allow us to replicate their chemical 'frost-fire'."
"For now a handful of integrated weapons will have to suffice. I expect Palamedes to follow us to your homeworld, and after studying his physical composition from our last conflict's data I believe I can mitigate his agility advantage. He cannot avoid a wall of freezing chemicals compounded with the native temperature of Kimara: he is not invulnerable, only elusive and with high endurance that replenishes upon defeating foes. I cannot fully dictate the terms of the battle, but I can even the playing field for when he next appears."
Tristan's flow of consciousness explanation to Jarn came to an end when he realized they were headed to the Eisernen's primary hangar-bay. Having only been awake for a brief period of time and 'accidentally' having left his communication devices off, Tristan had no real idea as to why Jarn wanted to head to the hangar, but it had to be something important if he was being pulled into attending…along with many others if the rumbling down the dark hallway was any indication.
Tristan's senses may have been dulled by his physical condition but that did not prevent him from feeling the cacophony of celebration which lay ahead. Even upon a different floor it was obvious to him just where they were because of the residual effects of their noise, something only possible if they were all gathered in a location that could fit enough soldiers to coalesce into the noise just barely striking his ears.
He kept pace with Jarn as best as he could, but each thunderous step taken required Tristan to make usage of his longer legs to match the Warsmith's gait. Just why the Warsmith was leading him towards the Eisernen's hangar and why it sounded as if every available Astarte and mortal servant aboard was present there was beyond Tristan, as this was not their first time returning to their shipyards nor should it be the last.
"Excessive noise is Levente's domain. Just what would evoke such uproar from our taciturn kin?" Tristan mused, likely having meant to keep it to himself.
"There are moments for celebration, even for those such as us," Jarn held a hint of a wistful smile for a moment before he stopped at the entrance to an elevator that would raise them both to the hangar bay, "As for what has their spirits so high, you will see soon enough...first, however, I must ask something of you."
Jarn pressed a button to call for the elevator, but as its primary purpose was to lift heavy and sensitive materials for usage in the hangar it was a slow and laborious contraption that crawled ever so slowly towards them from floors above.
"Of course, Warsmith," Tristan bowed his head in deference, his loyalty to the Warsmith absolute even after all these years. He owed everything to Jarn and was quite aware of that fact, and so he did all he could to show the proper respect owed to his leader. That Jarn had been like a substitute-father to him all of these years was not lost upon Tristan, though he did refrain from outwardly acknowledging this fact to keep others from believing his merits lay in nepotism rather than elsewhere.
With a smirk Jarn guided Tristan to stand up straight, as if admiring how his pupil now stood well above even the abnormally tall Jarn, "You have exceeded even my expectations for every role I have granted you, even those you lacked faith in your ability to perform. Artillery bombardment, siege warfare, battlefield logistics, fleet command, you have been given the resources and time so few Astartes have possessed to come into your own mastery of these subjects evocative of my own mentor Forrix before his fall."
Uncertain what to say, and not sure what Jarn intended to ask of him yet, Tristan remained silent as his Warsmith continued on.
"All this time we have remained in the shadows cast by giants, entities that we never could hope to overcome...until today," the elevator arrived a moment later and so both Astartes boarded it, a single dexterous press of a button despite Jarn's armor showing the functionality of his Black Carapace. With this done their slow ascent began, and Tristan could hear the growing voices of the weirdly exuberant Iron Warriors above them.
"Warfare is all I truly know. We wished for greater ideals at the time of the Great Crusade, we had dreams for what could have been even if on our own our individual goals differed. Even now my Iron Legion has those who worship the Emperor of Mankind, yet others who despise him. It is by our shared traits, our shared values that I welded our wills to one cause, but a part of me fears that those after me will only ever know war, just as I have," Jarn admitted in a moment of sincerity and Humanity, showing that beneath the veneer of control and power he exuded he was still Human in spite of his augmentations and years mired in the depths of Humanity's worst excesses.
"Can one who has lived in darkness, in eternal war, be the one to bring true unity to Humanity? Of that I am uncertain, for at the end of the day I am just a man like any other. I was but a child when I joined the Iron Warriors, having fought for my life before and after and knowing nothing more...and yet after so long my war continues. I have had friends, I have had those that were family to me, but the ravages of time and war have taken them all from me. Of those I once stood beside so many are now gone, never to return, but I remain."
Jarn shifted so that rather than side by side he and Tristan stood in front of one another, Tristan turning when he noticed his Warsmith's intention. This done, Jarn placed a plated hand onto Tristan and looked into his eyes.
"This is not a battle between right and wrong anymore. As men we are judged by our actions and accomplishments, both by the living and history. The path we now embark upon is one of bloodshed, the destruction of entire worlds and civilizations. Innocent lives will be sacrificed so that countless more may live both now and in the future. As an Iron Warrior, as an Astarte, there is only one road for us and that is the one that leads to the end. Once started there is no going back, only the true victory of Utopia or the eternal damnation of death."
The elevator stopped, waiting further input to have the gate above open to allow its entry to the hangar as it was programmed to do. It would be inefficient to deal with vessels collapsing partially down an access elevator by landing in the wrong position, but this gave Jarn a moment to finish speaking before they entered the hangar he was bringing the recovering Tristan towards.
"I could not ask this of Levente, for someone who only understands the language of authority, might, and brute force could never understand the true weight of this question. As muted as you hold your feelings within, I have known the man you are since you first sought to save a woman and her child from a collapsing building, even from the moment you stared me down with solemn pride and anger in the ruins of your home."
In but a moment whatever warmth, compassion, and fatherly guidance had been present in Jarn's expression was replaced by the cold determination and stoicism expected of an Iron Warrior. The Warsmith's eyes studied Tristan like a dataslate, pouring over him with fierce analysis and discerning every minute detail of his Triarch.
"As Astartes we are expected to cast aside much of our Humanity for the sake of our species, but what I ask is more: are you willing to go all the way? Will you bear the burdens required upon your soul, pressing forward no matter the cost to you or others?"
From his very childhood the vision of the Iron Legion had been imprinted upon Tristan, and even without indoctrination he had come to see things as Jarn had. His mindset was what one would expect of a deeply analytical individual and the rationalist and pragmatic worldview they espoused fit his nature, while the idealism of Utopia fit with his history as the son of a noble knight.
His own goals, grudges, or feelings aside there was nothing Tristan would not do for the Warsmith and his goals, and so Tristan knelt down to affirm as much to the one he owed everything to.
"If there is but one road it is the one I shall follow you on to the bitter end, now and always."
"Very well then..." Tristan's answer seemed to content Jarn who nodded in response, helping Tristan back up to his feet with one hand while pressing the necessary lever to open the metal above them, "Now I entrust to you the key to our future, my son and Triarch."
His words were soon consumed by the noise of the crowd filling the hangar around them, the Warsmith and his right hand rising into the mass of Iron Warriors, their servants, and even the vessel's Ixolotl population all gathered together. While elsewhere things were crowded and some individuals were forced to stand atop crates, vessels, or even be boarded upon them, it was a sight to behold to see them all in one place: notably even armor belonging to remnants of the Luna Wolves could be seen nearby while even closer Jarn's Fallen guards stood present and kneeling before his entrance.
Standing taller than any other individual present allowed Tristan to see past them all and look outside of the Eisernen to what lay beyond...and what he witnessed actually left the Triarch stunned.
A new vessel had been crafted to join their fleet from the modular pieces assembled over decades and gathered at their dockyard, something that would be accepted readily by Tristan and without particular comment if not for the fact that he could finally now see what his resource gathering had been put towards.
Dwarfing even a moon in size lay a behemoth ship of Jarn's own design, incorporating elements of the The Abyss-Class Battleship, the Gloriana-Class Battleship, the Eisernen itself, Ramilles Star Fortresses, and even the fabled Imperial Vessel Phalanx into one form. No space atop it was wasted with every possible inch covered in offensive weapon batteries while beneath its armor was seemingly as thick as entire Battleships before its main hull could even be brought to harm.
In but a moment Tristan realized why his kin were celebrating, and he could not help but look in awe out towards a 'Battleship' that could contest the might of the Phalanx, or even outright defeat it. The peerless fortress which stood as a symbol of the Imperial Fists now had a challenger, a weapon in the shape of a ship that had firepower enough to lay waste to planets and whatever fleets protected them.
Put simply, a tool that could deter even the likes of the Phalanx if it came to threaten Jarn's homeworld of Kimara, and one which could tip the scale in a siege of the planet and allow them to force its compliance.
"Uwaaaaaaaaah!" cried the Ixolotls present in joy, their nature being to mirror their owners emotional state and their natural attraction to lustrous objects making seeing a ship larger than a moon strike right into the heart of their primitive joy. Unable to see over the Iron Warriors and crowds present they instead were found climbing on top of whatever they could or just standing beside their owner while completely oblivious to why they were cheering, instead pleased to be there with the surge of positive emotion in the typically dour Eisernen.
"Iron Within! Iron Within!" came the repeating chorus of Iron Warriors, no-one leading their chants and cheers but their uproarious celebration rejuvenated upon Jarn's arrival. The Warsmith held a hand up in recognition of their support, pleased to finally unveil what their efforts had gone towards creating piece by piece these many years. To witness such a feat of engineering and naval firepower was everything the Iron Warriors could have asked for, and with such a vessel nothing felt beyond their reach now: that now their dreams of Utopia could one day be achieved battle by battle with an unstoppable juggernaut that would fear nothing.
"Iron in Ice!" Iron Warriors from Kimara and Kimaran-descended crew cheered in honor of their world, now witnessing before them the way by which they could return and reclaim a world lost to them thousands of years before but never forgotten in their spirit. If the Imperium ever wanted to pry Kimara from their hands again it would have to defeat the largest vessel in Humanity's history, and each and every one of them would die proudly aboard it if it meant the freedom of their kin and the survival of their ideals.
"Vittoria mio Imperatore!" was another phrase chanted by Kimarans present, this time cheering the Warsmith by the title granted to him in absence upon Kimara's rebellion to the Imperium: the Emperor of Kimara, their Emperor, and the one they entrusted to fulfill the aspirations of their people and the Great Crusade. He was not only their Warsmith whose battle accolades were innumerable, he was the spiritual leader of an entire rebellion whose sheer force of will had inspired millions to take arms against all who would deny their vision. Those upon Kimara had proclaimed him their leader even as he fought his way through the stars to be reunited with them, and even if they had been quelled before his return those in his fleet still recognized the spirit of those who bravely fought the Imperial Fists and decayed Imperium for freedom.
The meaning behind Jarn's words and his inquiry were realized by Tristan as soon as he laid his eyes upon the vessel, for as leader of their Kheledakos it was now his to command.
The Warsmith and Triarch rose further as the platform they stood upon raised further above the gathered Legion. Beneath stood the Iron Legion's many components all crammed into the only space on the Eisernen that would afford them a view of the magnificent sight before them.
Jarn allowed the cries of victory to continue for a few moments more before he rose a hand and in a single moment commanded silence without a word, his soldiers and servants snapping to attention and waiting for him to address them. Even Tristan felt the need to kneel beside Jarn so as to not loom over him at such a moment, showing his utmost devotion plainly for all to witness.
With all fallen to silence Jarn addressed his chosen kin loudly, having raised his voice so that it boomed out across the hangar without requiring him to shout. Years of command had taught him how to modulate his voice accordingly, and so he spoke as a tempered veteran whose will carried in every word uttered.
"For years I have bid that you toil across the stars, taking all you can and sometimes giving all in return. While our ultimate ambitions have remained clear, to reclaim the Imperial world of Kimara such that it might serve as our unconquerable base of operations and serve as our own Utopia, it has been my prerogative to keep details scarce and known only to a few. For this, I do not apologize, for it was a necessary precaution given the weight of what I now share with you."
Gesturing outwards, Jarn shifted the attention from himself to his creation which had been pieced together in the time they had been gone. Years of building the pieces in secret had finally paid off, never once letting slip his full intentions for their 'fleet' lest some agent of Chaos catch wind.
"This vessel bear witness to is but one piece in securing our future, but it is an important one: should it have fallen to the grips of Chaos even Terra would not be safe from its firepower, for I have created it to serve as a deterrence to even the Phalanx of the Imperial Fists. Piece by piece it has been forged by our brethren who no longer can join us on the battlefront, and now after decades of their contributions it stands before you forged with the very resources you have fought to obtain."
"Each man standing here today is to credit with this feat of engineering: let it be known that I do not take your work or sacrifices for granted even if I cannot always share such sentiments. In appreciation for what you have accomplished I grant you the tool to achieve our Legion's ideal: the Utopia-class Star Fortress."
Upon the official reveal of its classification another outcry of cheers sounded throughout the hangar, for while the Iron Warriors were known for their stoicism under most circumstances they too were known for letting out their emotions upon the end of a siege: their long war to obtain what they needed for victory had ended, and now they had before them the fruits of their labor that they had long been deprived of.
Jarn gave time for the excitement to come down before he continued, not wishing to ruin the genuine moment of celebration his hard-working crew earned. Once he sensed the mood would permit him to continue on Jarn spoke again and brought his arms out in a grand gesture as he stood before his Legion in the revised armor of their Primarch.
"With this we may once again embark upon our conquest of the stars, starting with Kimara, and one day ending when the last planet in existence is united beneath our banner. A tool to bring about the end of war, once and for all," clenching his hands, Jarn stopped his speech for a moment to signal a shift before moving forward, "This is not the only boon I gift upon you today, for just as we must conquer to bring about our vision so too must we build the future we envision brick by brick."
It was with some bile choked back that Jarn broached the next subject, as if informing others of something he knew they would be disgusted by but which he had to share out of necessity.
"Within the Warp the servants of the Traitor Falk are forging a way to rapidly create new Astartes by perverting the Human form: using unspeakable methods they seek to one day create legions of their false Iron Warriors from the Warp-tainted and mutant bodies of captive females they surgically infuse Gene-Seed and men into. They have not yet perfected their dark craft, but it is only a matter of time until our fallen brethren do so."
Some of the vitriol held in his words no doubt stemmed from Forrix serving under Falk, a man who once was his subordinate and who had dragged the most honored son of Perturabo into the depths of Chaos. If he could there was little doubt Jarn would strike Falk down himself, but their fates were so divergent that such a moment was unlikely to ever come to pass.
Shifting from restrained disgust to pride, Jarn spoke not from arrogance but from accomplishment of what he had worked to establish, "But what those mockeries of our once Great Legion can only accomplish through the Warp we can surpass through technology and scientific inquiry. That is what makes us superior, and why we will be the ultimate victors of this war of attrition, not Chaos! This past century we have worked alongside expert Genetors, including the renowned Fabius Bile, to create complementary organs to the Gene-Seed you are familiar with."
While few among their ranks respected Fabius Bile as a person, fewer still doubted the man's capabilities when it came to this field of science. He was perhaps second to only the Emperor himself when it came to such knowledge, and so it lent instant understanding of the degree of quality their Warsmith had ensured in this endeavor…as well as the likely severe costs in resources Bile would have demanded for such service.
"These new organs, collectively labeled the Omnis Gravidae, facilitate the natural birth and growth of Astartes offspring. These implants enhance a female's reproductive organs the way Gene-Seed enhances a male's physical capabilities and become self-replicating in successive generations by altering the genetics of the bearer. Gone will be the days of finding candidates and hoping that the implantation process works: now children will be born Astartes or born capable of bearing Astartes children from their husband's Progenoid Glands."
Already in awe of the Utopia-class vessel that now would lead their fleet, it was no exaggeration to say that the Astartes present were even further astounded that their Warsmith had managed to bend even the nature of Astartes reproduction to his iron will.
"This advancement has been made possible through information acquired from the Emperor's own research gifted to his son Corvus Corax, along with the tireless efforts of our Apothecaries, and shall grant us an edge over our foes be they Human or Xenos. To this end, our chief Apothecary Ossus has traveled to Kimara ahead of our fleet to begin preparations of our Legion's rebirth: through his research and information acquired from the Emperor's own we have successfully bridged what gaps remained between Humanity and Astartes."
"Just as it is now, it will be the duty of each and every Astarte to cultivate the next generation. From each pairing eight children can be born: four male with Gene-Seed naturally incorporated into their being, and four female with their their Omnis Gravidae. While our ranks will grow slower at first, successive generations will exponentially increase our numbers and rival the Astarte Legions of old. In centuries we shall surpass even those, and none will be able to stand in the way of our vision."
"Once it was the fear of many Astartes that when our conquest was over, when our sole seeming purpose was fulfilled, that we would be discarded. Through this integration of the family unit to our existence we no longer will be set apart from Humanity, but rather become a step in its evolution. It may not have been the Emperor's intention for us to supplant Humanity, but we are no less Human than our Primarchs or the Emperor himself: our forms may differ from the Humanity of old, but as masters of our own fate we will adapt as necessary to survive not only in body but in spirit."
"It is no secret that in the Great Crusade our Legion took our mortal peers for granted, be it the forces assigned under our command or the civilian infrastructure back on Olympia. To meet the needs of our Legion Olympia's civil infrastructure was crushed, paving way to the decay that would one day bring the Iron Warriors low. If history were to repeat it would bring us to ruin once more, and so we shall form the bonds necessary to understand the struggles and triumphs of those we will work alongside to bring our vision to reality. We need to be more than we once were to overcome the darkness before us, and rekindling our Humanity will be one piece of that greater whole."
The Warsmith's words resonated with his men, many of whom were veterans going back to the days of the Great Crusade and who knew firsthand of the matters discussed. Through ignorance and perhaps even hubris they had mistakenly believed that their sole world of Olympia could fulfill every need they so desired, and when the time came that it broke from the pressure placed upon it so too did their Legion.
"Kimara may be nigh impenetrable, but prudence dictates that we do not call the Imperium's wrath down upon us before we are capable of repelling everything in its arsenal. Henceforth, to this end, our Iron Legion shall be known as the 'Iron Krakens' of Kimara, 'successors' of the Iron Hands of Medusa. With the shattering of their Legion upon Istvaan there exist unverifiable points in their personnel records and history, allowing our agents to exploit the Imperium's ignorance to our own ends."
"The Iron Hands possess an affinity for mechanized warfare, cybernetics, and ruthless logic: they are already our peers, and so there exists no better cover for our future operations. Our location upon Kimara will mask our affinity for artillery as being the world's own, and while we must hide our true numbers and actions we will draw no suspicion. Years of whittling the Imperium's knowledge of Kimara and isolating it will make even the 'Iron' of our moniker go unremarked by their cumbersome bureaucracy."
"In the Great Crusade the Iron Hands conquered thousands of worlds, earning the respect of even Roboute Guilliman of the Ultramarines. They sought to excise weakness from the Human race wherever it might be found, and so too shall we. In harkening to our 'official' history we too shall have justification to set out amongst the stars and bring order, our order, to worlds which have lost sight of the Great Crusade's ideals. We shall forge an empire of iron far greater than our true kin ever established, and in doing so we shall set right all that has gone wrong."
"We fight not for the Imperium, but for Humanity itself, for both its survival and prosperity! We shall free them from the shackles fate has cast upon them so they too can seize their destiny and forge from it a path thought lost to our race! From iron cometh strength! From strength cometh will! From will cometh faith! From faith cometh honor! From honor cometh iron! This is the Unbreakable Litany, and may it forever be so!"
As his speech came to its conclusion the spirits of all present had never been higher, and it would be days before even their most taciturn of members would be able to wipe a smirk off their face.
The Iron Warriors were a Legion once more.
