Storm Heralds Reading List

Book1 Maledicti Venator, Serrati Stellas, Tenebris Resurget, Finis Fide, In Tergum Cultro, Omni Honore, Carpe Posterum, Vacuus Cymba, Noctem Oritur.

Book2 Umbram Ignis, Ancra Mortis, Fame Cimex, Crux Lapis, Saeva Abyssi.

Book3 Captum Ante, Venenum Filios, Locum Ignotum.

Domus Discordia Chapter 1

Lujan II hung in the dark, a shimmering sapphire on the velvet blanket of space. It was a beautiful world of expansive oceans, tiny islands and diminutive continents, prosperous and fertile. That jewel was placed in a setting of shining silver, a ring made of sensor buoys, defence platforms, starforts, system boats and shipyards. A new ring of metal to replace the one that had been lost in fire.

Towards that jewel came a lone ship, a single wanderer coming from far away, weary and yearning for rest. She was a massive Capital ship, clad with heavy armour and with rank upon rank of guns, a queen of warfare and destruction. Her hull bore the spiral in a starburst icon of the Storm Heralds Space Marines and her name was the Thunderchild. Upon her bridge her Captain stood upon the command dais and looked out of the Oculus at the welcome sight of home. He was young for an Astartes Captain, barely over a hundred years old. He had one organic eye and one red augmetic with twin diagonal scars rising on his cheeks. His armour was a glorious Artificer plate, with a red cloak and a precious Relic blade on his hip: the legendary Sword of Thiel. His name was Toran, Captain of the Third Company, and he was glad to be home.

Toran looked out into space and said, "Home at last, what a welcome sight."

From the helm station Furion, the stalwart Sergeant of the command squad, commented, "It looks busy, I've never seen so many pilgrim ships jostling for space."

At the Sensorium Brother Persion mused, "They were probably trapped here by the Warp storms, the Immaterium has never been so rough."

In the Enginarium pit, Bylan the loyal Standard Bearer, uttered in an augmetic rasp, "+The Empyrean heaves and roils, our passage was troublesome enough but I dread to think how such ramshackle vessels would cope+"

From the Ordnance Pulpit Novak, the irreverent Company Champion commented, "Any port in a storm, who knows what's occurred while we've been gone."

That troubled Toran more than he was prepared to admit; Third Company had been swept away by the terrible Warp Storms and caught up in fantastic events. Time was never certain where the Warp was involved and the effect had been pronounced. Third Company had been away for months, from their perspective, but here at home five years had passed. Who knew what may have occurred in the meantime?

As the Thunderchild heaved into an orbital approach the bloodthirsty Brother Jediah called from the gunnery pews, "Is it just me or are those defence platforms orienting towards us?"

Toran dismissed the concern saying, "They are probably having trouble identifying us, sporadic Warp storm activity is still interfering with communications and Auspex. Transmit our recognition pennants, that should clear things up."

The Thunderchild continued its approach and Toran turned to his advisors saying, "Once we dock I will seek an audience with Chapter Master Gorgall. There is much to discuss."

Before him the blue, white and black of his senior advisors stood proudly, young Librarian Arvael, level-headed Apothecary Memnos and of course Chaplain Wrethan. Wrethan spoke first saying, "We must make contact as soon as possible, we have a hold full of refugees to disembark, they need to be resettled as a priority."

Toran still wasn't used to Wrethan being concerned for the welfare of the common folk, he usually advocated the idea of having them all flogged. Their time away seemed to have had a great effect upon him. Although it might just be the case that the Chaplain wanted the mewling civilians off his ship. Toran bowed in respect for the Chaplain's new attitude and said, "Yes, we will see to their needs with haste. There is also the matter of Honourable Ajax to deal with."

Wrethan snorted, "Ajax prowls the decks like a caged predator and terrifies the serfs everywhere he goes. Normally I would approve but in this case the sooner we get the venerable Dreadnought to his stasis-crypt the better."

Toran knew he was right; Ajax was the oldest Dreadnought in the Chapter and the most revered. Every Storm Herald respected and admired their venerable Brothers, any Dreadnought was a lauded hero of the Chapter and their wisdom was beyond dispute but Ajax was in a league of his own. The Contemptor was as solid as a rock, one unmoving constant in the galaxy, but he was also exasperating to deal with. Toran was just glad he didn't favour coming to the bridge, he would barely fit through the hatch and would scare the Serfs when they were supposed to be working.

Apothecary Memnos changed the subject and said, "Home, I scarcely believed we would see it again. I wonder what we have missed, what wars the Chapter has fought in our absence."

Librarian Arvael concurred saying, "There is much to be learned. I must consult with my Master; the Librarius will have more information on the wider state of the galaxy."

Toran nodded and said, "Especially Terra, we have heard nothing from the Throneworld. The Chapter must have more information."

Memnos mused, "The Astronomican still shines, if somewhat erratically, is that not evidence that Terra still stands?"

"But in what state?" Arvael countered, "Is Terra besieged or prospering? Does the Emperor require us to march to his aid or stay here and fight on the border; these are questions that need answering."

Toran understood the dilemma all too well, the galaxy had fallen into darkness and the Imperium had never known such woe. Terrible Warp Storms still eclipse vast tracts of the galaxy, cutting off interstellar travel and communications. Information had become a priceless asset in this time and Third Company was starving for more.

As they limped home all they had heard were cries of distress and laments of horror. Daemonic incursions were everywhere, Xenos horrors spilled out from the darkness and the entire northern half of the Imperium had been split off by a galactic rift some were calling the Cicatrix Maledictum. The worlds of men were cut off from each other, besieged by nightmares or falling into rebellion. Never before had the need for the Emperor's light and armies been so dire and yet from Terra the Thunderchild had heard nothing.

Toran was shocked out of his ponderings by a servitor's wail and he leaned over the rail to bark, "Report!"

From the Sensorium Persion called, "Captain, those defence platforms aren't standing down, they're coming to bear. We also have system boats on an intercept course, gunports are open."

Toran was shocked to hear that and called, "What?! This must be a mistake, retransmit our recognition pennants."

"I already have," Persion spat, "They say our pennants have been rescinded, they accuse us of being Traitors in disguise!"

Toran looked up aghast at the strategic Hololith projected high above and saw the icons swirling around the ship. The Thunderchild was caught in a web of closing vessels, small system boats, gun platforms and deadfall torpedoes. He saw swarms of attack craft spilling out of hanger bays in the orbital starforts and defence monitors coming to bear. The ship was enclosed on all sides, surrounded by hostile forces.

Toran hastily ordered, "Open the vox and transmit in the clear: to all Imperial forces, stand down, you are targeting a friendly vessel. This is the Thunderchild and I am Captain Toran of Third Company, personal recognition cypher: Lexa-three-seven-alpha-Griffon. I repeat stand down!"

The vox crackled for a moment and then a voice proclaimed, "We don't accept dead men's lies. Prepare to be blown out of the void."

"Dead?" Novak uttered in shock as the vox snapped off, "They think we're dead?!"

Suddenly Persion leapt up in shock and called, "Warp hells, we have Astartes Strike Cruisers inbound, three of them! It's the Legacy of Glory, the Hundred Centuries and the Pax Mortis. They are on an attack run!"

Toran couldn't believe what he was seeing. They had come all this way, suffered so much and now they were about to be attacked by their own Brothers. Surely this was impossible, how could it end like this? He had to stop this before a disaster occurred.

From the Enginarium Bylan called, "+Shall we raise shields?+"

"Negative," Toran snapped, "Do nothing provocative. Keep signalling our recognition pennants."

But Persion only called back, "They're not breaking off!"

From the gunnery pews Jediah shouted, "Captain, request permission to run out the guns."

"Denied!" Toran snarled, "We have to convince them that we're really us!"

Suddenly Arvael stepped up and called, "Open the vox. This is Librarian Arvael aboard the Thunderchild, recognition cypher: Kappa-one-nine-Zeta-Pegasus. I confirm this ship is loyal to the Chapter and untainted."

Then Memnos called out, "Apothecary Memnos, recognition cypher: Questoris-two-eight-Maestro-Dragon. I vouch for this ship's identity and purity."

Persion shook his head and said, "No good, they're coming across our prow, Bombardment canons locking on!"

Suddenly Wrethan stepped up and declared, "This is Chaplain Wrethan to all ships, recognition cypher: Ego-tempus-non-habent-quia-haec-stercus! You will cease this idiocy immediately, else I will come over there and flog every last one of you whoresons!"

Persion looked into a display and then said, "Errr… they've paused their attack. Message coming in, they want to know if that's really Wrethan."

"Of course it's me you worthless cretins," Wrethan snarled into the vox, "Now I want a face-to-face with whoever's in charge of this absurdity."

Long moments dragged out and Toran felt a bead of sweat run down his neck, what was the opposing commander thinking? Would they talk or resume their attack? The tension could have been cut with a knife but then the comm pedestal flared and projected the Hololithic image of a Space Marine. He was a stern and patrician Marine, in glorious armour that rivalled Toran's own. His features were sharp and senatorial, more like some venerable politician than a seasoned warrior's. Toran looked upon him and felt a rush of relief, he knew this Marine, he had served under him.

Toran drew in a breath and said, "Ninth Captain Phalros, what a pleasure to see you again."

Phalros looked stunned and said, "Toran, Wrethan… it can't be, you're dead!"

Toran breathed a little easier and said, "I can assure you, we are not."

"But…" Phalros spluttered, "But you were declared lost in the Noctis Aeterna three years ago, the Chapter officially mourned you. Your names were entered in the Scrolls of Honour."

Wrethan spat, "Well some sorry serf is going to have to copy them out again and correct that, because we are back."

To his credit Phalros seemed to recover his poise quickly and said, "Where the hell have you been?!"

"A long story," Toran sighed, "Suffice to say we have returned and we have weary warriors eager to see home. Not to mention a hold full of refugees, whom I have promised to resettle on some of our homeworld's deserted islands."

Phalros shook his head and said, "Not back five minutes and already causing headaches, it really is you."

Toran was nonplussed by that and said, "We request permission to dock and disembark Third Company."

"Defences to stand-by," Phalros said nodding to someone outside the projection field, "You have permission to dock but not disembark. We must inspect your ship and crew for taint before clearing you."

Toran was surprised by the cold reception from his former commander and said, "We vouch for our crew, is something amiss?"

Phalros looked shifty then and said, "Things have become complicated in your absence, it may have been better had you stayed away."

Toran blinked in surprise and uttered, "What are you saying?"

"Not here on an open channel," Phalros hissed, "I will come and collect you, you can speak to Chapter Master Gorgall in person and see for yourself. Stay there and for once try to do nothing foolish."

The link snapped off so fast Toran blinked and he stepped back saying, "What was that about?"

Arvael looked thoughtful and said, "He looked worried, I suspect we have missed a lot."

Toran shook his head and said, "I think we had better prepare to be escorted to the surface. Furion, you're in charge while I'm gone and don't do anything to provoke those guard ships."

"Understood," Furion replied, "Nobody is to shoot at anybody without express permission, Jediah I am looking at you."

"Good," Toran then addressed his advisors, "Now let us go find out what has been happening to our home while we've been away."