The Fifth of Ukkosa

Surmah, pre-Induction to the Imperium

And so it was on the fifth of Ukkosa, that the tumultuous skies of Verivaltas seethed with auric luminance, bathing the nocturnal world in a brilliance it had never before experienced. The inhabitants shielded their eyes as the churning maelstrom of storm clouds tore apart, revealing a shining fleet hovering in orbit above their home, lead by a vessel that eclipsed their view. Such a wondrous sight had never before been seen on their world; that such a work of incandescent beauty could exist was nearly too much for them to bear, many falling to their knees in abject bewilderment.

While the inhabitants ran the gamut of emotions in response to this marvel in the heavens, the Council was busy attempting to identify the intruders and how a fleet of such size could have appeared so suddenly in their midst. Satellite and relay stations should have picked up something on their long-range augurs, and yet it was as though the ships had just materialized out of nothing. While the members sifted through information brought to them by aids or on cogitator screens, one stood apart from the rest of the assembly.

A cadaverous giant gazed out the cyclopean window into the firmament, his pearlescent eyes dancing with the gold aurori from the lambent glow cast by the leviathan vessel that hung in orbit above his home. Though he had never laid eyes upon it before, he knew his creator dwelled within, and that at long last he would have the answers he sought. A being as singular as he was no accident; he had been created with a purpose in mind, one he knew with something beyond conviction, was to bring enlightenment to the mortals of his own species. Fastening the front of his ebony military coat and running a hand through his black hair, he addressed his council members.

“Open a broad-width vox broadcast to our guests,” he said, “send them the coordinates to Naakki’s Sorrow and inform them I shall be awaiting their arrival… alone.”

“But Chancellor, is that wise?! Your safety could be….” one of the councilmen started.

“My creator wouldn’t travel all this way, just to murder me in the swamp I crawled to life from.” he interrupted.

“Yo… your creator? How can you know it is they who are in orbit above us? No scrap of the scant information we have been able to retrie… “ another member attempted before they too were silenced.

“See that the message is relayed on as many frequencies as possible.” he said hollowly.

Taking a step toward the armorglass portal, Surmah’s frame grew nebulous as he shifted out of phase with reality, before plunging hundreds of meters down towards the sodden earth below, leaving his council members in their usual state of befuddlement when he did such things. The rush it brought; plummeting through the sky, air ripping at his onyx mane, never ceased to cause his hearts to pound. Just before he slammed into the ground, he phased out of reality once more, arresting his fall and preventing any kind of injury he might have taken.

Striding over to the bank of the swamp, he gazed about himself as though seeing his world for the very first time. Despite senses greater than anyone could even begin to fathom, the luminance that now bathed Verivaltas dredged up details so acutely it enthralled him. The world had never known such healthy light, not even when the first colonist ships had settled here did their lights drown the world in such radiance. To his peripheri he could see the denizens of the woods slinking further into their sylvan bastions to escape.

“Such a sight, is it not?” said a voice, shattering the solitude that had only moments ago been pure.

Whirling around, Surmah beheld an old man in a weather-worn cloak, it’s brown fabric the color of the mud surrounding them. How had he not heard, let alone smelled or simply “felt” this strangers presence? Nothing on Verivaltas had ever achieved such a feat, and yet here was this innocuous old man that had passed unhindered entirely.

“And who might you be, elder? I have not had the pleasure of ever having laid eyes upon you before, and with what you have just accomplished, I am quite curious to know from where you hail.” Surmah said, though despite his polite nature, his body was reflexively tensing for confrontation.
“Just a wanderer, come to gaze at the majesty that has revealed itself in the heavens.” the old man replied.

“You must forgive me, but that is a lie and we are both aware of that,” Surmah said, “you do not smell of Verivaltas. You’re an offworlder, but that you speak our tongue with such fluidity, if with an improper accent, is a testament to your skills. However, I will not stand for someone lying to my face, within my own domain. So, I ask you again, who are you?”

“Hah, it would seem I have misjudged my approach. Amusing that it would happen on so similar a planet as the last time, though you show a great deal more decorum than your brother did.” the stranger said, a hint of mirth affecting his speech

“My… brother? The words stumbled from Surmah’s mouth. Though it only lasted a heartbeat’s breath, his eyes went wide with such a revelation.

“Brothers,” the old man corrected, “you are but one of twenty such beings, each crafted to be a paragon of humanity. To conquer the stars and render it safe for the species to claim its rightful inheritance of the cosmic tapestry. The darkness between worlds is rife with terrors beyond imagining, xenos threats lurk on every world seeking to maintain their dominion of our subjugated cousins. Some of you were created to be shepards, while others were meant as enforcers. And yet still there was a small handful who were created to erase all opposition to our burgeoning empire. You, like your brother found on so analogus a world, are one of those.”

“And who are you to make such a claim, that galactic conquest is yours by right?” Surmah said, conviction returning to his words once more. Though despite these claims, he could feel something grander stood before him; he couldn’t explain how or why, he just knew this stranger was hiding his true nature from him.

As the stranger tore the tawny cloak from his shoulders, a golden luminance erupted in front of Surmah, blinding him momentarily in its overwhelming radiance. Before him stood a pillar of flaming gold; where once there had been a haggard old man, now stood a titan from the myths of old. Auric armor like nothing he’d ever seen encased the being, so intricately stylized and wrought, it was majesty made manifest. Elegant vines wove about his greaves while eagle heads and thunderbolts stared imperiously outwards from a myriad of locations, as death masks covered his knee guards and knuckle braces. One hand ended in an immense talon, the curving blades of each finger the length of a grown man’s arm, hooked viciously inwards so as to thwart any potential escape once within his grasp; the other was outstretched toward Surmah, the fingers themselves intricately engraved, beckoning him forward. His face was sculpted to aesthetic perfection; without blemish and noble in its countenance, his cheekbones and jawline could carve stone. Golden eyes stared out of a face that would have made even the gods weep in envy at its beauty. Resting about his temple was a golden laurel and above his head, a golden fire raged, captive in a state of coronic grandeur as it seethed with untold power. Truly, there had never been a being of such transcendent might that the idea of galactic empire seemed not only plausible, but justly his.

“I am the Emperor of Mankind. From Terra have I traveled the breadth of the galaxy to reclaim all that was taken from me, and I have come to give you your birthright, my son.” the Emperor intoned.

A titan wrought in gold. Twenty other beings like himself. A galaxy spanning empire conquered to the ascendency of Humanity. And he wasn’t alone in his existence. At long last, after so many years believing himself so singular a being, he now knew he had a family. The scope of it all was staggering and yet it registered within him as the only possible answer to it all, as though he was genetically crafted to accept this on a cellular level.

“And there is yet more to show you, my son.” the Emperor said, his melodious voice drifting over his him with mellifluous authority. At some unseen command, the sky split and a roar unlike any beast he had ever heard reverberated throughout the heavens, as great crimson ships tore through the sky. Hundreds. No, thousands of them streaked down from the firmament; huge, slab faced behemoths bearing a stylized cross plummeted towards the sodden earth. As the myriad of ships landed, descent ramps slammed down and from within strode beings unlike anything Surmah had ever seen. Giants in crimson armor etched with iron marched from hangar bays, the tread of tens of thousands shaking the earth itself with their power. Mighty weapons were held to their breast or were strapped to hips and power packs, weapons that could have only been created for galactic conquest. As the last warrior stepped into formation, over one hundred thousand warriors stood before Surmah on the banks of Naakki’s Sorrow, cyan eye-lenses gazing at him in rapt attention. Though their faces were hidden behind their helms, he could smell their anticipation, the musk of rapture hung heavy about them, as though finally meeting their long lost kin.

“As I created twenty others like you, so from each of you did I create beings cast in your images. A legion made from your genetic lineage and fashioned into the greatest warriors the galaxy has ever seen, and weapons in their own right. With each of you at their head, the legions will help me retake the galaxy and solidify our claim over all creation. You were my final son, and so I give unto you the final legion. My Absolvers, the XX Legiones Astartes, the final judgement to be wrought upon our enemies.” the Emperor said, his voice cascading forth.

Surmah’s white eyes darted over the assembled might of the Emperor’s legion. No. His legion. Just as he was the son of the Emperor, so too were these Astartes his own sons. From his genetic legacy were they lifted up beyond the base state of humanity, to better serve their master in His conquest of the galaxy.

“Remove your helms.” Surmah intoned, his voice carrying over the vast mire before him, sifting back to the furthest reaches of his sons.

As one his Astartes obeyed, and as they did, over one hundred thousand faces as pallid, with eyes as alabaster as his own, stared back. Some looked about their brothers, quizzical looks exchanged between them. Others wore grins of elation, and to his amused surprise, they too bore fangs such as his. Yet the majority continued to gaze forward in rapt attention of their genesire, ignoring any and all distractions. However, many bore the telltale signs of radiation burns and scarring, their skin blistered and raw. This final detailed perturbed Surmah greatly and he would endeavor to figure out why this was the case and if it was within his newfound power, to rectify it.

“Look about you, warriors of ancient Terra,” Surmah bellowed, “far have you journeyed and at long last have you found your new home. Though I may have brought peace to my people, made safe their homes, it is this, Land of Blood, from which we draw our strength. We preserve its natural lethality by coexistence, we do not seek to claim what we do not need and in return are we so strengthened. Through overcoming such adversity is our willpower tempered, our bodies honed to a vicious edge. Galactic conquest calls, but just as the denizens of my home are tested, so shall you be. To learn the ways of the predator, to bleed your prey and ensure that though it may yet live, it has not the strength to harm you in turn, will be my gift unto each of you.

There were nods of acknowledgement and approval as he gazed at the throng of his sons, fires stoked in their hearts as they heard their father speak for the first time. These were warriors without peer, cutting their way through a hostile galaxy to find the lost pockets of mankind with hopes of finding their genesire; he would not squander such fervent valor, but he would temper them further. He would hone them into a vicious blade through the same discipline he had learned stalking the moors and forests of his home, making of them killers beyond reproach. Let the other legions be the stalwart crusaders and defenders of the Imperium basking in the adulation of the untold imperial masses; for him and his sons, they would spend their time stalking their prey through dead worlds, reveling in the thrill of the hunt.

“From me has my Father elevated you to preeminence, and in my image have you so clearly been cast. As I am to believe and can clearly see, you have inherited the blessings Verivaltas have given me, but to the wider Imperium, it is likely seen more as a curse, and for that I am truly sorry. However, we were not created for the laurels of commendation, to be the shining beacons of my Father’s empire. No, we are extinction made manifest, the predators who will stalk the stars until every last threat has been run to ground and our fangs are buried in their throats. Like me, you have been given a gift! Revel in your more ferocious aspect, for even without a gun or blade in hand, you are lethal beyond measure.” he continued.

“Your time as crusaders absolving foes of their sins has come to an end! From this moment on, you shall be my hounds! Together shall we bring illumination to the masses and hunt the enemies of the Imperium unto extinction!” Surmah roared, “Pain begets clarity! Clarity begets truth!”

“VAE VICTIS!” his hounds howled in response.

“Woe to the conquered,” Surmah murmured to himself, a sadistic grin creeping across his lips, “how very apt.”