Warhammer [490-491] (Patreon)

Chapter 490: The Beginning of the Indomitable Crusade

"Guilliman! Dorn has very likely guessed something, but you must keep your mouth shut. What happened with Magnus is an Imperial secret." After Rogal Dorn left, the Emperor turned to Guilliman and spoke.

Guilliman sighed at that. It was a thorny matter—mainly not because of himself.

"Father, I think he may already suspect something. We're fine, but Magnus's eyes have already given everything away," Guilliman said.

Dorn was extremely sharp; he had caught that fleeting evasiveness in Magnus's eyes.

"I know. But with Dorn's temperament, he won't speak of it—and Magnus will keep his silence as well," the Emperor replied.

"Magnus actually isn't the problem. At worst he'll get beaten up again—he's had enough beatings as it is.

The real difficulty is Horus. News of Horus's return is no longer a secret within the Imperium—especially among the upper echelons," said Guilliman.

In recent years, the Imperium had constantly propagated that when Horus was sent to that world for so-called treatment back then, he had already been possessed by the Four. The one who launched the rebellion wasn't the Imperium's Warmaster Horus, who had always been loyal.

Ordinary Imperial citizens, of course, had no idea Chaos even existed; and it happened ten thousand years ago. As long as the Emperor, His Angels, and the grandees of the Ecclesiarchy spoke, which commoner would dare say otherwise? But once Dorn returned, he would, like the Lion, erupt in fury at Horus.

"Let them resolve it themselves. I believe Horus will handle it," the Emperor said.

Horus had already passed the most difficult hurdle. If he couldn't pass Dorn's, then he wouldn't be the son the Emperor had set his hopes on.

Back then, the first Primarch the Emperor recovered wasn't actually Horus, but Alpharius—kept in secret and personally groomed. Horus was publicly named the First Found, to use that status to cultivate him. Among all the Primarchs, Horus was a natural leader. He was the Emperor's designated Warmaster.

Just as Guilliman is the Lord Regent of the Imperium. But as for the Warmaster's seat—without sufficient strength, you can't sit in it. The only one who can withstand the Four head-on right now is Rhodes.

To be Warmaster you don't need to be the strongest; the Emperor's sons have returned. With them working under Rhodes, Rhodes need only issue orders and command. His primary task is to withstand the pressure of the Four and avoid corruption.

"Rhodes, thank you for the campaign against the Necrons. Go home and rest well. In three months, Phase One of the Indomitable Crusade officially begins," the Emperor said.

This war had been six years in the making. It was time. Everything was ready; to delay further would only deepen the isolation between those worlds and the Imperium.

"No problem. I can depart at any time," Rhodes nodded.

Per their plan, Phase One of the Indomitable Crusade would last fifteen years, and after those fifteen years, Stark would be twenty. By then Rhodes could prepare an Astartes Legion for him.

His two half-Aeldari children would be around ten as well.

After the three discussed the expedition's specifics a while longer, Rhodes returned to his palace to be with his long-unseen wife Elena and their son Stark.

Husband and wife reunited, naturally there was intimate communion. This time, Elena would also serve as Rhodes's adjutant, accompanying him to lead First Fleet into the crusade.

…

Dorn's return sent shockwaves through the Imperium—good ones in every respect—because Imperial morale rose again.

For a full three months, vast Imperial fleets concentrated at Holy Terra. The reconstituted Legions sent great numbers of Space Marines and mortal auxiliaries.

Just Rhodes's geneline alone had reached a staggering eight hundred thousand at its cap. His Legion also sent three hundred thousand more warriors as reinforcement. The Blood Angels, Imperial Fists, White Scars, Space Wolves, Iron Hands, Raven Guard, and the newly founded Deathwatch all dispatched forces of varying size—from several tens of thousands to well over a hundred thousand.

The Astartes mustered had reached two million, not far off the Great Crusade's scale.

Meanwhile, Elena's gene-daughters—the Sisters of Battle—massed a full five million, and would march with Rhodes.

Mortal troops—the Imperial Navy and Astra Militarum—were beyond counting, impossible to tally precisely, but certainly over ten billion.

In addition there were innumerable battle barges, cruisers, destroyers, battleships, and carriers assembled.

Now over four meters tall, clad in red-gold power armor, Rhodes stood before the Emperor to swear the oath of crusade.

Deep within the Imperial Palace on Holy Terra, the Golden Throne's radiance bathed the grand hall, lending a layer of sanctity to the impending ceremony.

Tens of thousands of Imperial high officials, Space Marines, Sisters commanders, mortal auxilia, and Navy representatives gathered, solemnly awaiting the advent of Humanity's Master.

What an honor: the Emperor Himself would deliver their farewell address, that they might hear the Emperor's teachings.

These officers of the mortal auxilia had never dared dream they would one day behold the Emperor.

Rhodes and Elena stood at the fore.

The air was taut with tension and expectation. As somber bells tolled, the Emperor's avatar appeared slowly before the Golden Throne. His gaze was like a beacon, sweeping across every person present, as if seeing through their souls. His voice was deep and powerful, echoing through the vast hall.

At the sight of the colossal golden giant before them, all the mortals fell to their knees, crying "Long live the Emperor!"

Outwardly, the giantized avatar served better; thus the Emperor's public face was always His towering incarnation. The gaunt, withered form was known only to the Custodes and the Primarchs.

"Children of the Imperium, today we stand at a turning point in history," the Emperor's avatar thundered.

"Ten millennia ago, our Imperium endured darkness and division. Today, we stand united once more, to fight for the future of mankind!"

His words stirred everyone present; countless fists clenched, eyes lit with resolve.

The Emperor continued: "The Indomitable Crusade is not merely a military operation. It is our declaration of war upon the forces of Chaos—upon the xenos!

 It is our pledge to the future! We will reclaim lost worlds, save the oppressed, and restore the Imperium's glory!"

As His speech crested, the hall's fervor reached a peak. All the mortal officers burst into thunderous applause—this was the Emperor's teaching!

"Rhodes," the Emperor's voice was steady and commanding, "You bear the hope of the Imperium of Man. Your courage and wisdom will lead us to victory.

Phase One of the Indomitable Crusade will be commanded by you in person. Are you ready, the Imperium's new Warmaster?"

Rhodes, in red-gold power armor, his towering form over four meters tall awe-inspiring under the lights, replied, "For the Emperor. For the Imperium. I will give all I have to lead the Indomitable Crusade and reclaim humanity's rightful honor!"

The steps had to be taken; the more stirring his words, the higher the morale of the mortal armies. So Rhodes put on a heartfelt performance.

He instilled unrivaled confidence in the commanders of the mortal host.

"To follow you, great Warmaster—to follow you into the crusade and annihilate all enemies of mankind," a mortal auxilia general said to Rhodes.

Rhodes nodded, then turned to face all the warriors in the hall. His voice rang out like a great bell: "Soldiers of the Indomitable Crusade! Today we march. For the Emperor, for the Imperium, for the future of mankind! Our enemies may be strong, but our will is stronger! We will know no fear! We go ever forward!"

As his words fell, the hall erupted in deafening cheers.

Rhodes raised his hand again for silence. "Go forth, my warriors! May the Emperor's light guide your path; may your courage and loyalty forge new legends!"

"Go—Imperium's champions!"

At the Emperor's command, Rhodes led the Indomitable Crusade's vanguard fleet slowly out of Holy Terra's orbit.

Countless warships formed a magnificent array in the void, like a shining river of stars. Each vessel carried the Imperium's hope and resolve; every warrior held fast to faith in the future.

Aboard Rhodes's flagship, the Unyielding Oath—refit from a Pedan mothership, with Imperial stylings added and its size roughly doubled—Elena stood at his side. It would serve as Rhodes's flagship throughout this crusade.

Besides Rhodes's First Fleet, Dorn led the Second Fleet and over a hundred Imperial battle barges in tow.

Sanguinius commanded the Third Fleet, at the helm of a Pedan mothership supplied by Rhodes.

There was also the Fourth Fleet, led by the Lord of the Fire Dragons, equipped with three Gloriana-class battleships.

The four fleets launched Phase One of the Indomitable Crusade. The objective in this phase: purge all forces of Chaos, xenos, and rebellion within the Imperium Sanctum.

Chapter 491: The Indomitable Crusade, and Veterans of Fighting the Greenskins

The four fleets advanced in four directions. Rhodes's First Fleet was the largest by far, with over a million Space Marines.

Upon arrival in each system, the fleet would verify whether the planetary governor worshiped the Emperor of Mankind and recognized Imperial authority.

If Chaos taint was present, Axis would show no mercy—purging the cults and corruption—then garrison large numbers of Ecclesiarchy clergy to re-entrench proper faith among the populace.

Here, the cloned Lorgar was a tremendous help—he excelled at the religious game.

He implemented all manner of improvements to Ecclesiarchy methods of preaching and spreading belief, even suggesting to Rhodes that he infiltrate the Ecclesiarchy himself and begin quietly redirecting its faith. Rhodes shut that down.

Are you kidding me? I told you to found a religion, not to usurp the Ecclesiarchy!

If the Ecclesiarchy were usurped and the Old Man lacked humanity's collective hope to suppress the Dark King, I don't have the confidence to defeat the Dark King. At minimum, you'd need someone on the level of Greeza—or that Chaos Four—to keep him down.

Until then, the Emperor must remain upon the Golden Throne, properly suppressing the Dark King's birth.

On worlds untouched by Chaos, if a planetary governor had rebelled, Rhodes would remove them immediately.

He would then appoint a new governor from the heart of the Imperium, even replace all local administrators, while folding the world's garrison into his crusade and bringing in a fresh army to hold the planet.

Many planetary governors across the Imperium's worlds were no good. Rhodes took the opportunity to clean out a large portion of them. Guilliman had trained a surplus of administrative talent anyway.

Changing them out made rule easier. Loyal worlds, meanwhile, would see Rhodes lead military parades planetside and review their forces.

He would deploy large Astartes formations—on the order of a hundred thousand—to conduct armed demonstrations on-world.

With overwhelming force, he told local nobles and governors: do your duties well.

Afterwards, he would draw off a portion of the planet's mortal troops to join the crusade, and then depart.

Other worlds were beset by xenos—some by greenskins, some by Drukhari, some even by the T'au.

On the worlds fighting greenskins—truth be told, Rhodes was surprised they had held out this long.

He knew full well how terrifyingly fast Orks evolved; after all, he had a super-beast-class Ork warboss under his own banner.

These Imperial soldiers, long since despairing, erupted into joy beyond words when they saw the colossal fleet fill their skies and three-meter giants descend from drop pods.

"The Emperor's Angels of Death!

 The Emperor's Angels of Death are here!"

"Emperor preserve us—our reinforcements have arrived. We're saved."

"Honor to the great Angels. We never ceased resisting. We never gave up the faith. We have held the line," the Astra Militarum troopers cried.

Though the Imperium had reformed its military, officially restoring the Imperial Army, many worlds still retained their Astra Militarum regiments.

Imperial bureaucracy did not move swiftly. Sometimes an order took centuries to propagate. These reorganization edicts were only six or seven years old, hardly fully disseminated.

"Warriors, you have faithfully fulfilled the Emperor's charge. You need not worry now. The Imperium's might has come—these vile xenos will be annihilated," said the leading Space Marine captain.

He had said as much many times these past years. The mortal auxilia were the Imperium's true frontline. The Astartes, in earlier times, were more often shock troops.

Decapitation strikes rarely kept them alongside mortal units for long; but the ones truly holding back xenos and daemons were the mortals.

These soldiers had not even taken super-soldier serum, had not been remade into Primaris-equivalent Space Marines—they were fighting as mere men.

"Honor to you, Angels of Death. May I ask—what Chapter are you from?" the local Astra Militarum commander approached the unfamiliar Astartes and asked.

He had seen Space Marines before—usually 2.2 to 2.3 meters tall. The tallest he'd seen was perhaps 2.5 meters. But the Marine before him stood a terrifying three meters.

His build was colossally powerful. The engraved lines on his power armor were unlike any he'd seen—though the Imperial Aquila was prominent.

Mortals revered the Emperor's Angels of Death—but it mattered which force had arrived. If it was one of the more extreme Chapters, their coming could be worse than not.

For example, the Blood Angels' successor, the Blood Drinkers, were notorious among mortals: besides slaying xenos, they would seize mortal soldiers they saw and drink their blood.

And there were nastier Chapters still, sometimes more brutal than xenos.

"The term 'Chapter' is gone. All Chapters have returned to their Legions. The Primarchs have come back. A lot has happened these years," the Space Marine captain sighed.

The mortals didn't even know the Imperium had changed so drastically—over ten Primarchs returned, the Emperor risen from the Golden Throne, now leading mankind.

"What! The Emperor—the Emperor!" On hearing this, the mortal officer was incredulous.

"Rest now. The fighting to come won't require you," the Marine captain said, and left without looking back.

Behind him, uncounted three-meter warriors strode onto the field.

They charged the xenos.

"Brothers, exterminate these aliens!" With the Void Guard captain's roar, Rhodes's gene-sons surged forward, triggering their berserker transformations and plowing into the Ork mobs like walking tanks.

It became a blood-soaked slaughter.

At the same time, more drop pods slammed into the surface. From them emerged troopers roughly two meters tall, heavily muscled, in carapace armor—Imperial Army.

For this Indomitable Crusade, all mortal units had been injected with Rhodes's "monster serum," sourced from the Emperor's avatar.

In raw physicality, these mortal soldiers were not far off Primaris-grade Space Marines—though they lacked the nineteen gene-organs, and wore only carapace.

Their standard armament had shifted from lasguns to heavier bolt assault rifles—manufactured to Primaris specifications. These troops could handle the recoil.

The old flak vests were completely retired; so too the old lasguns. This mortal auxilia was an entirely new breed.

Watching these mortals, larger and better equipped than themselves, the local Guardsmen were stunned.

"Are they… Astartes neophytes?" a new recruit asked.

He had never seen the Emperor's Angels of Death. The three-meter giants from the sky didn't quite match the stories.

But these just-over-two-meter soldiers seemed more in line with what he'd heard.

"Doesn't look like it. They're not in power armor, and by the look of it, they're mortal troops," an old hand replied.

Even Astartes neophytes wouldn't wear that kind of carapace—and not in such numbers.

By rough count, over a hundred thousand ground troops had deployed to this world. A hundred thousand Space Marines?

"It seems the Imperium changed while we were besieged," the local Astra Militarum commander said.

He wondered if they would have a chance to receive this new-era augmentation—to become the equals of Primaris in physique.

With the crusade's main force planetside, the fighting ended quickly. The mortal auxilia began clearing the field.

They sprayed special reagents over the soil, to prevent Ork fungal spores from re-sprouting.

In recent years Rhodes had deepened his study of the Ork species. His scientists had developed a new compound.

Sprayed across ground and air, it effectively killed the Orkoid spores.

It stopped the Orks from springing back up like mushrooms after rain—a strong check on their numbers.

After the battle, Rhodes ordered a Chapter Master under him to receive the local Astra Militarum commander.

"Your valor has not gone unnoticed by the Warmaster. We're offering you an opportunity: join the Imperial Crusade and march with the Warmaster to reclaim mankind's lost realm."

"Imperial Warmaster? When did we get a Warmaster?" a mortal officer asked.

"Warmaster" was an ill omen of a title. Since the traitor Warmaster ten millennia ago, it had not appeared in the Imperium—save for the Chaos Warmaster Abaddon, who had inflicted unimaginable damage.

Some more extreme mortal officers even wondered if they had been rescued by Chaos, and that this Warmaster was the infamous Abaddon.

As mere mortals, they couldn't tell Chaos from the Emperor's Angels; the Inquisition and Grey Knights had long embargoed information.

Most mortals didn't know what Chaos truly was; they only knew Abaddon was a traitor, not that he was corrupted by Chaos.

"The new Imperial Warmaster is the returned Primarch, Lord Rhodes. We are his sons—the Void Guard Legion. I am the Chapter Master of the 12th Chapter, 7th Brigade," the Astartes said.

After the Legion reorganization, they instituted Deputy Legion Masters, Brigade Masters, Chapter Masters, Captains, adjutants, and sergeants.

"Praise the Emperor! I thought you meant Abaddon."

"That traitor is in the Imperium Nihilus—the Dark Imperium. We'll be going after him in time. He won't strut for long," the Chapter Master said.

"We accept. We're willing to become a stronger transhuman force. Honestly… can our bodies really compare to Primaris?" the Astra Militarum commander asked.

To be told he could match the Angels—even just in physique—was shocking.

"Yes. This is the Emperor's reward for loyal forces—and Warmaster Rhodes's reward for your valor."

Veteran mortal units tempered by years of Ork war were invaluable—far stronger than new blood.

If possible, he even wanted to bring some of their talent into the Astartes ranks.

"Then we agree. Let us fight for the Emperor and join this grand crusade." Thankfully, this Warmaster served the Emperor—and wasn't Abaddon.

"In the future, those who distinguish themselves—I'll consider inducting into my Chapter for Astartes implantation," the Void Guard Chapter Master said.

"Don't joke, my lord. We know the Astartes are made young. I dreamed of it once, but I'm over forty now," the officer replied. Becoming an Astartes was every Imperial boy's dream.

He had fantasized in his teens. In his forties now, he had given it up.

"You said it yourself—that was then. Astartes augmentation has made a qualitative leap. In this crusade, mortal soldiers who excel can be elevated to Astartes," said the Chapter Master.

The crusade was only in its opening phase. Astartes casualties climbed daily. Medicae pods helped, but losses were inevitable. These brave mortals could fill the gaps.

"In that case, we'll join your army. I want to live that Astartes dream."

"It isn't a dream. Welcome to the Crusade."

And the same scene played out on other worlds as well.