NationStates Jolt Archive

Hydran Prime; Imperial Forgeworld

Deep beneath the metallic skin of the world; work was underway; a grand work; a great work. Deep within the bowels of the mighty forge; something was underway. Techpriests nervously poured over machinery; invoking the blessings of the Machine Gods. Doors slide open with a hydraulic hiss; the opening dilating; revealing the vast chamber. The rows stretched out before them as the Magos stepped up to a platform; servo's whining as he reached out with bionic arm to pull asunder the cloth from the great edifice before him; the tumbling silk revealing the great tube; and within it; slumbering...The Primarch. The secrets of the Primogenitors used once more to forge anew a legacy. A mighty legacy of Iron and Steel.

Behind the great Primarch; each tube contained a fledgling Space Marine' implants and surgeries gleaming; their bodies prepared for the coming wars; many sported bionic limbs; replacements for mutations that had sprung up during their initiation; some with flesh pulsing over the metal arms, seething and hissing as though it were imbued with some sinister life.

"Begin the purging..." The dry whisper of the Magos echoed; the tubes beginning to drain; the birth of a legion nigh at hand; Skitarri lined the chamber in silent devotion; silent dedication to their goal and objective. Guarding this legion; silent witnesses to this technological birth. For the Emperor and the Machine God, they would fight; for the Imperium they would live and die....These Sons of the Mechanicus; this new Legion....

The Steel Fists

Beneath the bowels of hunger, a horrible creature stirs. as they take legion he stands slone. With a belly full of beer he climbs out of his hole. slowly . . . .

Ogeden

:mp5:

OOC: And behold, he did say unto thee, thou shall not suffer a n0- I mean Mutant to live...

IC:

"It seems the Empire is doing SOMETHING major."

"What of it, we are allies now."

"I just felt it was worth mentioning..."

OOC2: This is me being interested, or, a very elaborate tag\n00b exorcism.

"Brethern!" The cry went out across the vast vox-casters; the Magos standing before the crowds; towering over them; the legion assembled behind him; Primarch at his side. "We stand today at the dawning of a new Era; a new birth! A new beginning! Behold these warriors of iron and steel and black judgement! Behold our gift to the Emperor and the Imperium!"

The legion vast stood; moving forward in perfect columns; armor alive with silver and iron and gold; a mighty force; a new force; the likes of which had never been seen. Embracing technology with a fury and a guile that would have been uncommon in their more debased cousins; no...These were warriors of the Imperium; the founding of a New Legion; these Fists of Steel; these Children of the Sword.

The Emperor (trilkan) of Huntaer read the reports, and immediatly knew that things were changing in the Galactic Empire. A new warrior race. New legions of terror. This is the call of the empire.

The emperor was impressed with these new warroirs, and thought to himself that its a good thing that the Imperium is allies with Huntaer. He is in need of troops in the dark times ahead for the Huntarian Empire, perhapse Chronosia could be persuaded to help with the uprising rebellion in Huntaer.

OOC: Basically, nifty idea.

TAg, don't know wether I'd get involved yet, as a new space nation I'd get my ass kicked.

The news of the creation of the Steel Fists did not come as a shock to the Shadow Republic of Snake Eaters. It had merely been something that was to be expected of Chronosia, a nation more steeped in war and bloodshed than many others. Lord-President Barbarossa looked at the attache from the Black Angels, the Space Marines of Snake Eaters, one Chaplin Hanst, his bone white armour polished to a brilliant sheen,"What do you make of this?"

"These Marines are not true Marines. They were created by the Adeptus Mechanius, to serve them and them alone. That is not the way of a Space Marine."

"You do not believe them to be worthy of the title."

"They surely deserve the title, but to gain my respect takes more than a title."

The slender human nodded slightly,"Yes... Chaplin Hanst, I suggest you go look further into these warriors. As a Space Marine with many centuries expierence, you would fit perfectly."


++++++++++++++++++++++++++BEGIN TRANSMISSION++++++++++++++++++++++
From: Lord-President Jacius Barbarossa
To: Whom it may concern
Re: The Steel Fists
Thought: Without free will, there is no difference between submission and rebellion

Sir or Madam,

It has been brought to my attention that you have recently completed the creation of a new Legion of Space Marines. As a Legion has not been seen in many millenia, the Black Angels Chapter is most interested in seeing the fruits of your labour. As such, I request permission to dispatch one Chaplin Hanst, of the 1st Black Company, to see what you have created. I await your reply.

++++++++++++++++++++END TRANSMISSION++++++++++++++++++++++++

High Command HQ

Lt. Robert Jamston walks into the office of the Minister of the High Command.\

"Sir we have gotton reports that Chronosia has created a new legion of space marines."

"Whats new there opoing those out all the time."

"Yes sir, but theses are not normal slace marines." He said with a gulp.

"What are they then?"

"The Biologicly altered. With machine implants."

"Lord have mercy on us all....."

It is but one of many; a Legion amongst Legions. A thing struggling to birth itself and compete with it's siblings. Nurtured by technology and enwombed by steel; what Master's of the Mechanicus' arcanery they shall become....We grant your request; that a Loyalist dog can bow before the True Imperium; see the might of the True Gods and their servants. I invite you, by my power as God-Emperor of the Chronosian Imperium, and Emperor of the Galactic Empire. Come; witness the birth of their power; their fury.

The metallic surface of the world gleamed and shimmered in the light of its sun; the vast forges alive with activity. Deep beneath the earth; fires raging about them; the red light reflecting in wicked tongues across their armor; the Steel Fist worked. Hammers struck blades upon the forge; weapons forged and maintained; a mighty hammer smashing against the blade; the rush of sparks. Elsewhere, Servitors tinkered with a mighty Warhammer; adjusting it; etching runes across the surface...

A gauntleted hand shooed them off; grasping the shaft of the great weapon; hefting it up; eyes alive with warp-fire; hair wild about his head; a black mess of shadowed tendrils.

"It is finished..." A Techpriest whispered; bowing before this seeming living God.

"No..." The Primarch answered. "It is only begun...."

"Aye, Forgemaster Aesri."

It is but one of many; a Legion amongst Legions. A thing struggling to birth itself and compete with it's siblings. Nurtured by technology and enwombed by steel; what Master's of the Mechanicus' arcanery they shall become....We grant your request; that a Loyalist dog can bow before the True Imperium; see the might of the True Gods and their servants. I invite you, by my power as God-Emperor of the Chronosian Imperium, and Emperor of the Galactic Empire. Come; witness the birth of their power; their fury.


Hanst glanced at this communique and snorted,"Oh dear... I can see they still do not have the common courtesy to know the difference between a Space Marine of the now-defunct Imperium of Man, and one of those of Snake Eaters."

"They are Chaos, do not forget that."

"I go for two reasons. Personal interest in this new legion, and also because you have asked it of me."

"Just making sure you know that, and watch yourself out there."

"In and out, just as smooth as you like."

"Exactly. Now, go."

Hanst left Snake Eater Prime on a Thunderhawk gunship, painted in the black and royal-blue of the Black Angels, settling back for the journey,I will bow to no-one.

Soon enough, the gunship was swooping through the skies, coming to rest on the landing pad. Amisdt the hisses of pressurised gas escaping through vents, the ramp opened, and Hanst walked down, his armour still polished. He knew the Chronosians would attempt to antagonize him... he would not give them the pleasure of a reaction though. He was better than that. As a show of faith, his weapons were slung at his belt, but his hands were not apparently at the ready.

An aide walked into the chambers of his Excellency, the great Victorian style room was broad and bright with the sun's light shining through them. At the windows stood his Excellency in a calm mood, looking out at the bright day, enjoying the beautiful sight it gave. He turned as the aide walked forward to his desk and saluted.

"Your Excellency, we've just recieved a report from our spies within the Imperium and the Galactic Empire." The man took out a small data slate and handed it over to the man now paying close attention to the aide.

Treize Kushrenada read the report carefully. As the leader of the Specials, a varitable private army of elite troops within the Thrashian Army, he remained aware of such activities.

He read carefully about the description of these new Legions the Chronosian forgeworld Magus had created. He frowned.

"I repsect how these Chronosian honor the way of war. But I dislike greatly their uncivil ways in going ab out it. A war without civility between oponenants is not a war, and a true warrior cannot find his better ever in combat. Thus such a honor the battlefield gives is lost," Treize said aloud.

The man nodded. He was a fanatical believer in his Excellecy and like all the men of the Specials, and even soldiers of the regular army, loved him for the care he showed for them; and respected him for being a true warrior.

Treize looked up at the aide. "Inform our spies to keep close watch on this new development."

"Sir!" The man saluted and left. Treize turned back to the window and returned to enjoying the sunny day.

Robed and hooded; various devotions to the Machine God showing beneath their cowls; the Tech-Priests advanced; bowing as their guest stepped forth; before being roughly pushed aside. A giant of a man towered over the Chaplain; the great Hammer strapped to his back; flanked by grey armored guards, adorned in Gold. He smirked slightly, humorlessly; madness in his eyes and flitting about his tousled hair as though it were a living, invisible thing, coiled about him.

"You are the Chaplain? And tell us, little one; what is it you worship? Where do your prayers go?" He sniffed the air. "I scent no Chaos about you; nor do you seem...Glorious enough to go in the service of the False Emperor on your knees; presenting yourself for his attentions" A bellow of laughter; his bootfalls thudding against the metal skin of the world. Flame and smoke rose about him; the fires of war alight within this sphere.

"I am Aesri; Primarch of the Steel Fists; servant of the True God-Emperor; Remiel De Drakan..."

Hanst held up his hand, as if to silence the man before him. His face bore no fear nor malice in the face of this towering hulk... it was not in his nature,"I serve neither the Chaos 'gods', nor do I serve the Emperor of Man. I serve Lord-President Barbarossa, second only to my Chapter. Do not assume that all Space Marines must follow one or the other. That is the cry of the ignorant and foolish, for these two things are intertwined and cannot be undone."

He paused for a moment, and then continued,"Allow me to make a number of things perfectly clear. The first is that I come at the behest of Lord-President Barbarossa, who wishes to further his knowledge with regard to Chronosia... your methods invite suspicion, and it is not his wish for that to be the case. The second is that I am here out of personal interest. It is always a learning expierence to meet those who believe differently. The Black Angels are not the xenophobes that many believe the Space Marines to be."

Having finished, he lowered his hand, and spoke more softly,"I am Chaplin Hanst, of the 1st Black Company."

"You are scavenged from the past then to serve some new Master; like dogs that languish in their kennel only to find a new home to grow and feast in; of course, this is understandable. Much that once was is ashes; or Chaos reigns where once there was a great Order..." He chuckles at the spectacle of the Chaplain raising his hand, listening only because it interests him.

"Allow me to make some things perfectly clear; firstly, you are here as our guest, regardless of the reasons why you have come here. Should you...Forget your place and abuse our hospitality; we will be most displeased. I would advise you to check your tone when referring to the Gods; many are quite religious here, and I would not be responsible for their...Insulted passions" He sounds as though he is being entirely civil, with barely contained malice lurking somewhere behind.

"Now; you mentioned that our methods invite suspicion? What methods would those be? What have you to suspect of us I wonder, Brother-Chaplain?"

Hanst was not a man who would be intimadated, nor would he accept ignorance. The political side of Hanst began to play,"As I am your guest, I ask only that you and your people offer me the same courtesy with regard to my beliefs. I should be allowed to express them, as you are allowed to express yours. However, in the interests of diplomacy, I will keep them quiet in public. Also, let me set the record straight: I am a Snake Eater. Born and bred. We share many traits of many Chapters, as Snake Eaters managed to obtain geneseed, but we are not of the previous Imperium. I ask that distinction be made."

He paused, and then continued, ignoring the tone in the final words of the man before him,"With regard to your methods, we ((the Assembly, the main governing body of Snake Eaters. Think like the Cabinet in the UK)) are under the impression that this is not the first legion you have created. Questions have been raised as to why you find it neccessry to have so many troops. After all, has it not been said that a single Space Marine is the equivalant of at least one hundred normal men. Not only that, but the sheer cost of creating new legions must be astronomical."

"If you were formed from recovered Geneseed; then by all rights you are descended from the Old Imperium" A flicker of a knowing serpents grin. "Like it or not; that makes us..." He pauses; pondering for a moment. "Kinsmen" He chuckles; turning, beckoning for them to follow; the group passing into a vast edifice; a cathedral formed of the raw metal of the world; archs, vast and sweeping; many seats; a great throne at the fore; windows laced with stained glass. Aesri moved; seating himself; looking quite pleased as he gazed out.

"These are dark times; we ourselves are concluding a war. Might is needed; be it the strength of the Imperial Guardsmen, the innovations of the Mechanicus and the Imperial Navy; or the raw brute force of Space Marines. Our legions were formed to defend the Imperium; to expand it; to grow and profit and make us grand...Though there is cost involved; there are many raw materials we can...Use. Various worlds under our control throw up grand warrior stock; not to mention those attained through war or slavery. Including my own, there are eight Legions of the Imperium."

"Modifying bodies with machines as if they were not human beings? Disturbing" said Council leader Geth.
"We were the ones who requested joining with the...Galactic Empire with which they are associated?" queried Councilman Hepert
"I am quite confident that is so" replied Geth.

~snip~
Hanst did not react to the word 'Kinsmen'. He had mused over almost all the possible things this man could have said, and so far it was fitting exactly what he had envisgned as the most likely course of events. He processed all the information given to him, especially the part regarding the number of legions,"I see... understandable, then, for the recent military build-up. It has not gone unnoticed in the galaxy at large."

"We are aware that it hasn't gone unnoticed; after-all, you're here." He smirked softly. "With the forces at our disposal, we can effectively defend our entire Empire; fight our wars on many fronts. Such might is a thing of beauty; a thing of splendor, that which will safeguard our nation for the years to come."

He rose, bowing lightly. "You see now the need for such power? The need to wield it as a weapon? To serve our gods and their ends...Our legions ascendant and indomitable as night; the secrets of the Primogenitors at our disposal; at our fingertips. Such knowledge; used to further our grand goals."

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder thought Hanst, not expressing these views openly. He did not trust the man before him, not just because of his allegiance to the Chaos gods,"I'm afraid I do not see the need to wield this power, merely the chance to do so."