Sam Wood presents the backgrounfor his pre-heresy Ultramarines army.
Two years before the events of Istvaan V…
Captain Eleus Petriclus of the 18th company of the Ultramarines Adeptus Astartes stared out from the bridge viewport as the ship; Bringer of Redemption entered orbit around the world the Imperium had designated as Fourteen-Eleven, the eleventh world bought into compliance by the Fourteenth Expedition. The Fourteenth expedition was a small expedition fleet comprised of a handful of ships: a battle-barge and several Imperial Army carriers, the duty of the expedition was to follow a main expedition and find any planets the main forces of the Great Crusade had missed out and if capable, bring them into the Imperium. To this end the expedition carried a full company of the Ultramarines legion and five regiments of infantry from Calth.
Petriclus spun on his heel and marched to the Captain’s chair, “Helmsman – maintain standard orbit. Auspex, any sign of any threats to the fleet?” he asked. There was a brief silence as the operator at the Auspex station tapped furiously at his keyboard; “None sir.” Came the reply, Petriclus nodded approvingly. “Vox the embarkation deck and tell them to prepare a Stormbird for departure” he ordered, there was an aye from the vox operator. With that; Petriclus marched from the bridge.
Sat aboard across the Stormbird’s troop compartment from an honour guard selected randomly from his company, Petriclus was deciding on how best to persuade the planet’s leader – First Minister Jeromeh he believed it was, to join the Imperium without resorting to a direct war? What should happen if the minister was friendly? What if he decided to refuse to speak to him? All these possibilities required calculating if diplomacy was to work out for the best. Tactical Squad Actonias sat with him, all fully equipped and imposing in their blue power armour. The Stormbird rocked as it landed onto a landing platform on a large silver building in the centre of Eleven-Fourteen’s capital; the Space Marines spread out from the imposing drop-ship, followed by Captain Petriclus. A group of soldiers in armour of a metallic green colour and carrying long thin barrelled rifles, they spread out to complete the circle the Space Marines had half-formed on the platform. A Herald in crimson robes stood to attention at the side of the archway leading into the building’s interior
“Presenting his greatness First Minister Jeromeh!” the Herald shouted, his words followed by a man in crimson robes trimmed in gold. “Hail!” Jeromeh greeted, a smile hiding his surprise at the size of the eleven Astartes stood in a semi-circle in front of him. “Welcome to our fair city” the Minster finished, the Astartes remained as still as statues, Petriclus removed his helmet with a faint hiss of air; a grey-tinted goatee gave him a far more human appearance than the rest of the Astartes. “Well met. We are representatives of the Emperor of Man; we come to accept you into the Imperium with all haste as humanity reclaims the galaxy that so rightfully belongs to it.” Petriclus said calmly, his voice as certain as any man’s could be. The Minster stepped backwards, a look of slight alarm on his face “What? No! We will not be slaves to this Emperor. You are not the humans spoke of in our history, you are abominations!” he yelled at the Ultramarines, who were falling into line alongside their captain. “We will not be denied. Join us willingly or don’t, either way your people will join us.” Petriclus said, replacing his helmet, the eyes glowing red.
The First Minister was furious, “WE WILL NOT JOIN YOU MONSTER!!!” he screamed, and suddenly, his eyes went bright green and Petriclus noted a mouth full of sharp, pointed teeth; Petriclus heard the voice of Sergeant Actonias over the short-range vox: “Captain – these are not humans, they are mutants. We should act accordingly”. The Soldiers stood nearby raised their long rifles at the Space Marines, who aimed their massive boltguns back at them. Petriclus realised that only the First Minister and the soldiers had green eyes and fangs, there were humans on this planet, and they needed to be returned to the Imperium and saved from these foul mutants.
Petriclus opened a channel to all the Astartes on the platform “Kill all the Soldiers. Leave the rest.” He ordered, drawing his bolt pistol and firing it at the First Minister, the bolt landed squarely in the centre of his forehead and detonated. The Minister’s brain splattered across the platform, much to the aghast of the Herald stood in the doorway to the building. A few Soldiers managed to fire at the Space Marines before being blown to pieces by bolt rounds, hissing as they did so.
The Herald stepped tentatively towards the Astartes, and they lowered their weapons “What… What are these things?” he asked in a whisper. Captain Petriclus walked over to him and stared down at the man “These are not what they seem; your people are enthralled to some mutant abominations. We are here to save you and your people, and bring you into the Imperium of Man.” He answered. The Herald nodded and picked up a rifle from the floor, and checked the ammunition counter “We will support you and your Emperor. My name is Basacar.” The Herald answered, Petriclus smiled in his helmet, the job of winning the support of the populace was un-needed. He opened a vox channel to the Bringer of the Redemption; “All units, execute Crusade Plan Sigma, and tell Iterator Wolnus he is about to have the easiest job in his career.” He ordered, before following Basacar into the building.
The war to bring Eleven-Fourteen into compliance lasted three months, and during the entire affair Romero Descius had been waiting the entire time to visit the planet. Descius was an Imagist of the Remembrancer Order; and his job was to make sure the Great Crusade was remembered through pictography. The Remembrancers were new and were hardly an organised affair as of yet, and they were only just beginning to reach the fleets, and even then, not those directly on the forefront of the crusade. He had arrived at the 14th Expedition just as the war on Eleven-Fourteen had begun, and was anxious to get on with his job. He was sat at his desk looking over his latest images taken from around the ship, when the door chimed loudly, making him jump; he walked up and pressed the door control, where it lifted up with a loud pressurised hiss to reveal two men in the uniform of the Sixth Calth Infantry. “Romero Descius? We are here to escort you to the surface, sir.” The larger of the two troopers said. Descius smiled, Expedition command must have finally approved his request to image the war. He grabbed his pict and marched off to the embarkation deck with the two troopers.
Five hours later, Descius and the two troopers were stood on a landing site just outside the capital city of Eleven-Fourteen. The majority of the city had been reduced to rubble and flame, as the enemy had learnt of the populace’s support for the Imperium, they had decided to leave nothing to take and so begun to destroy the cities and their human populace. Not to say some of the mutants hadn’t blended into the human populace as well, thus why a military escort was needed. Descius took a picture of a Astartes, resplendent in blue power armour, along with a squad of army troopers escorting prisoners away from the city, before he was hit with the number of picts he was going to need, and so headed deeper into the ruined city with his escorts jogging to keep up.
A mile or so down the road, the two troopers caught up with Descius taking picts of a ruined building, a blast of some sort had flashed the outline of a man onto the wall, a pale patch on the blackened plasterwork.
“Hurry up!” thought Trooper Xeari, who was leaning against the ruins whilst Descius got on with taking picts, it wasn’t until he looked down and noticed a set of footprints in the dust that didn’t match the Astartes or any Imperial Army boots that he jumped up and grabbed his las-rifle from where it was leaning on the wall and sprinted into the ruins to find Descius. He came across his colleague, Trooper Zachori, first and mouthed: “Building isn’t clear!” before pointing at the footprints. Zachori muttered some curse before unslinging his rifle and beginning to stalk onwards into the ruins.
Descius was examining a series of scratched markings on the wall when he heard a boot clang on a metal pipe that had fallen from the now missing roofwork. He turned around, expecting to see his escort telling him to hurry up when he jumped. A green armoured enemy trooper was stood in front of him, holding a large metal combat knife in a fighting stance. The mutant overlords of Eleven-Fourteen had further altered since the war started. They now had developed wolf-like maws to go with their fangs and green eyes. Descius dived right; dodging a heavy blow destined for his stomach, and yelled out. Zachori fired his las-rifle as he scrabbled over the loose rubble of the ruins, missing his intended target and hitting the wall behind it. The Mutant jumped at Zachori, who raised his rifle across his chest as the mutant’s blade came down, and the two collided in a shower of sparks, but the Mutant was stronger and forced his blade down as he bought his weight to bear. Zachori roared as his rifle was smashed from his hands and the Mutant scored a line down the trooper’s face with his combat knife, suddenly a burst of speed propelled the Mutant onwards, he span on his heels and sliced again. Zachori’s right arm hit the floor with a heavy wet thump; blood spattered the walls as Zachori cried out and fell to the floor in shock. Xeari came flying out of nowhere, his las-rifle on full auto; he hit the Mutant in the knees and sent him reeling to the floor. The Mutant tried one last trick, it picked up Zachori’s las-rifle and took aim; Xeari jumped sideways, but still caught the las-blast in the left knee, he dropped screaming. Descius was about to yell for help when suddenly a massive bang echoed through the ruins and the Mutant’s head disappeared in a haze of red. Stood over the ruins was a massive figure in blue armour, a white ornate “U” on one shoulder plate, “Astartes…” whispered an awed Descius, as the Space Marine lent down and brought him to his feet.
Five minutes before… Lucianus, Battle-brother of the Ultramarines Tactical Squad Antonias stalked the ruined outskirts. They had been receiving regular reports from the Imperial Army that some of the enemy had taken to hiding out in the ruins and ambushing small patrols. So he and his squad were spread out, hunting these guerrillas. He could hear distant footfalls of a group of people running parallel to his position. He carried on lurking close to the ruined buildings on the left hand side of the road, checking each individually before carrying on. After checking five buildings and finding nothing; he began hearing the un-mistakable sound of an army las-rifle on high power firing. He set off at a jog, hearing screams of pain as he got closer, before launching himself over the rubble to see a man in the robes of one of the new remembrancers crouched on the floor next to an injured trooper, whilst a mutant soldier was aiming at another trooper just in front of Lucianus, the man jumped aside, but caught a round in the knee. “Damn army!” Lucianus thought, aiming his huge boltgun and firing a single round, it hit with a massive bang, and decapitated the mutant in a haze of red gore. He lowered his weapon to see the remembrancer staring at him; he picked the man to his feet and voxed an Apothecary to attend at once.
To be continued……………………
Please note the author and Dice and Decks Gaming Club lay no claims to the intellectual properties of Games Workshop that are referenced in this piece of fition.