Warhammer: Adventures Of The Two

Aurorum-III: 976.M41

"Run Savah!" the older Howling Banshee called out as she ducked behind cover.

Savah followed her sister's orders, turning and fleeing from the hail of bolter fire that came after her. She told herself that she was only doing to get help, to get more Aeldari to assist them. She would not see that plan come to fruition, however, as she soon found herself face-face with an Adeptus Astartes of the Space Wolves chapter.

The space wolf revved his chainsword, bring it down onto the Eldar, its teeth tearing through flesh and bone. When all was said and done, Savah of Aurorum-III knew no more. The space wolf growled, turning to the Howling Banshee who was standing frozen a few meters away, having just witnessed the death of her sister.

The space wolf once again hefted his chainsword, ready to cut down the next Xeno in his path. The Banshee gripped her blades before she let out a scream that would make almost anything within a hundred meters go deaf. The space wolf was undeterred, however, as he charged forward.

The Banshee rushed forward, ducking beneath the marines blade and stabbing a power sword into his joint. Quickly removing her blade, she twirled behind the space marine, before leaping upwards and landing on his back. Bringing her swords to bear, she stabbed them both into the marine's neck, severing his spine and causing him to fall to the ground.

Turning, she rushed to the side of her sibling's broken body. Her body had been torn from the shoulder to her stomach, almost cut in two. The banshee ripped off her sister's helmet, looking into her now dead eyes.

She wailed in sorrow, reaching for her sisters shining spirit stone. She held the blue gemstone close to her c.h.e.s.t, tears falling from her face. She reached forward, closing the eyes on her sister's corpse, before standing to her feet and looking at the surrounding battlefield.

She saw the space marines that were left, the ones that had found her craftworld and were wreaking havoc upon her people. Looking down at the gem that housed her sister's soul, Salah swore that day that she would never forgive the Imperial Mon'keigh. They had attacked her home, killed her people, and had taken her sister from her.

Stashing the stone inside a pouch, she rushed forward to join the battle that was left. She would see the Imperials driven from her home if it was the last thing she did.

[-----]

Holy Terra: 794.M41

Rogue Trader coronation

The coronation of Robert Carolinus as a Rogue Trader was something many people had seen coming from a mile away. He was a troublemaker in his teenage years, and he was still more effort than he was worth when the bureaucrats were concerned. So it came as no surprise when he was granted a title that would get him out of his family's hair.

He seemed to be aware of this fact as well, as he took it in stride and even had a ship ready before the coronation had a set date! When he walked up to the podium, he did so in a manner that made him seem almost as if he couldn't wait until he could finish it.

He was handed his Warrant of Trade, before skipping most of the formalities and running off to his ship. He left the star system, heading toward the edges of the Imperium and was never seen on Terra again.

This was not the end of his story, however.

He spent years gathering men, resources, and knowledge about the galaxy he lived in, even managing to learn of the ruinous powers of Chaos and how to combat them. He managed to gather himself a regiment of actual Guardsmen as well, before growing his army to three regiments not much later.

He traveled the galaxy, facing all the threats it had to offer. Whether they be Tyranids, Orks, Chaos, or any other form of enemy, he's fought them all.

It wasn't until the year 812.M41 that he faced his greatest challenge. Never before had he encountered the deadly Necrons, and he had just landed on a Necron tomb world.

[-----]

Necron tomb world: 812.M41

"Get that artillery set up!" Robert called to the man next to him, who immediately ran to follow that order.

They had landed on the planet, having no idea what would be on it. And when they found the Necrons, they found out just how tough they were. Whenever one would be blasted apart by a grenade, they would simply regenerate, get up, and keep moving forward.

Their weapons were nothing to sneeze at either, the hot green beams atomizing the flesh of the guardsmen.

"Sir!" A Guardsman called out, "They've breached the southern line and are heading this way!"

Robert cursed under his breath, "Alright, tell the troops to get ready to evacuate, I'll have transport on the way!" He said.

The guardsman nodded, running off to tell the others. Turning to look at the firing line before him, he saw that the Necrons barely seemed slowed by his men's lasfire, much less like they could be stopped by it.

Gripping the power sword at his waist, he marched up to the front of the line, standing at the edge of the trench and drawing his blade.

"Men!" He called out, "We are the only thing that stands between these Xenos and the line behind us! Should we fall, these monsters will have a clean shot at those trying to evacuate. The southern line has already been breached, so we are all that is left."

"But we will not fall! We will stand strong!" A beam of green energy shot above the trench, missing Robert by less than a meter, "For those that cannot defend themselves! For those that do not know the enemy that is at their doorstep! FOR THE EMPEROR!"

The guardsmen roared, a new strength found in their souls as the amount of lasfire doubled down upon the Necrons. With their newfound vigor, they actually managed to halt the advance of the Necrons. They hadn't managed to push them back, but they weren't moving forward anymore.

Three long hours passed, with men dying all around Robert, and the Necrons gaining ground inch by bloody inch. Finally, he received word that the last of his forces were off the planet and that all that was left were him and the few hundred men left of the regiment he brought with him.

He smiled. Standing from his position in the trench, he called out to the men around him, "The transports are on their way! We only need to hold for a few minutes longer!"

The men cheered yet again, but with noticeably less enthusiasm. They were tired, wounded, and hungry. Robert knew that the news could not have come a moment later than it did, for if it had then his men might have not lasted until the transports arrived.

With utmost haste, the transports flew down from the skyline, narrowly dodging the beams from the Necrons. They landed quickly, guardsmen dashing into the safety of the transports. Robert himself stayed outside for as long as he could, trying to make sure as many men made it as possible.

Alas, not everyone made it off of that battlefield. Many were simply to slow, and did not reach the transports before they took off. Others were left behind, the transports to full of passengers, unable to carry anymore.

Looking out the closing doors of the transport, Robert witnessed dozens of men being cut down by the Necrons that now had no opposition. Robert cursed the Necrons, he cursed the planet that they were on, and he cursed himself for not seeing the signs of the planet being a Necron Tomb world.

If he had known, he would never have landed on the planet and simply called the Administratum. He sighed, knowing that he could not change the past, and perhaps, this event would allow him to better guide the future.

[-----]

Mars: 967.M41

Tech adept 23774, or Matthias to any non-mechanicus member, was beginning to get fed up with his superiors. His ideas were simply slight alterations to existing technology, not all out tech-heresy! He chuckled as he remembered his statement when he had first become a member of the Adeptus Mechanicus…

"I will shoot myself with a lasgun before I even think of committing Tech-heresy!"

He had been less open-minded then, much less than he was now. Granted he would still take off his own head before committing tech-heresy, but he would be lying if the thought of doing so had not crossed his mind over the years.

"23774, the Magos requires you to meet him." The Enginseer stated.

Mattias sighed, "Of course 34452, I will be there momentarily." He said.

Setting down his datapad which held his latest project, he headed up to the Magos' office. The walk through the halls of Mars was rather bland, the grey colored steel walls and floors were not eye-pleasing to most, but many among the Mechanic.u.m felt that even this had its own form of beauty.

Matthias himself did not care for the dull grey color, though he did not have any better idea of what to make the walls out of so he did not voice his opinion.

He sighed as he passed another Tech adapt who glared in his direction. While he would not voice his opinion on things he did not have a solution for, he was more than happy to voice his complaints when he had a solution. Unfortunately, his solutions were rather unpopular.

Paraphrase the prayers to the Omnissiah and the Machine Spirits.

Stop lathering anything and everything in copious amounts of oil.

Use bigger pieces of metal instead of using hundreds of smaller ones!

Seriously, there's so much that could be fixed without it being Tech-heresy. In any case, Matthias made his way even further into the depths of Mars until he reached the Magos' office. Opening the door, he saw the Magos sitting at his desk plugged into the many machines that flowed through Mars.

"23774. Your production has been at 124.74% during the last 72 hours. Your resources were cut by 20% approximately 74 hours ago. Explain." the Magos spoke in Binary.

Matthias sighed inwardly. Yes, his resources had been cut, and he had been forced to get creative with the way he constructed his projects. In a way, his resources being cut had been a blessing in disguise as he had learned was to speed up production and cut down on resource usage, enough so that he was actually producing more now than before his resources had been cut.

"Response. I was forced to use 14% less material per construct, as well as delay my personal projects." He replied.

The Magos' head moved upwards slightly, "Question. Why did you not request more materials." he asked.

"Response. Requested materials would take an estimated 16.2 hours before they reached my station. Rework of construction was the optimal course of action."

The Magos shifted slightly, an input from one of his fingers moving from one output to another, "Transfer of Adept 23774 from Mars to Forge World 7783, Designation: Arus."

Matthius' still biological eyes widened. Arus was a, quote, 'Forge world' on the southern fringe of the Imperium's borders. In reality, it was little more than a colony with a few more factories than was strictly necessary. It was supposed to be the start of a new Forge world, but the time it would take for it to be finished would be decades, no, centuries.

"Question. Why am I being transferred." Matthias asked.

"Response. Adept 23774 has been disruptive and has shown signs of early Heretek thought-patterns. Solution: Transfer 23774 to minor Forge world to either delay Tech Heresy or destroy the possibility." The Magos explained.

Matthias' eyes seemed to double in size, "Argument. I will delete myself before committing Tech Heresy of any kind." He said, and he meant it to.

"Counter-argument. All Hereteks say that before they convert, precautions must be taken to ensure you do not become one." The Magos argued.

Matthias' shoulders slumped. There was no way for him to get out of this. He wasn't the most rebellious Tech adept, far from it, but the way the Magos spoke made it clear that there was no room for argument. When translated to standard High or Low Gothic, binary seemed robotic, dull, and void of any emotion. But to anyone that could speak the language themselves, it was clear that the Magos hated what he was doing.

This particular Magos had somewhat taken in Matthias, teaching him what he had struggled to learn. He was sending Matthias out of the way, sending him as far away from those who would inflict any form of investigation on him. As much as it pained Matthias to say it, the Magos was helping him in the best way possible by sending him away.

"[COLOR: grey]Proposal. Go to Arus and defeat any form of Tech Heresy within yourself. Please, Matthias.[/COLOR]"

Matthias' heart skipped a beat, hearing the Magos call him by his name instead of his serial number. By all rights, he should have lost his position for doing that. He would be berated, demoted, and possibly even rejected from the Mechanic.u.m entirely if anyone found out.

Matthias sighed, "Proposal accepted."

[-----]

Forge-world Arus: 972.M41

Office of Magos 23774 A.K.A. Matthias

It had been years since he was dropped off on this backwater planet, and all things considered, he had gone up in the world. He was now a Magos, respected among the other Tech-priests on Arus. While his opinions hadn't changed from when he was on Mars, his peers had.

The planet was still a Forge world, and as such, it was still under the watchful eye of the Adeptus Mechanicus. For all that meant, however, the people still practiced more radical forms of technological modification. Many of the changes he had proposed back on Mars had already been put in place on Arus, and a few more had been made that would have made several of his Mars based brethren call the people Hereteks!

He smiled, silently thanking his Magos back on Mars for sending him to Arus. The fact that he was capable of a smile was a feat in and of itself. Many members of the Mecanicus that reached the rank of Magos had replaced any and all flesh possible with machinery. He was one of the few exceptions, believing that being able to communicate with people outside of the Mecanicus rather important.

His face and hair still looked like that of a fully flesh based human, and his hands remained flesh as well, though the rest of him… not so much. Almost every internal organ possible was converted to a mechanical version, and he had four servo arms attached to his back, all of which did the tasks his biological limbs were incapable of doing.

Above his primarily metal body, he wore the standard red and white robes of the Adeptus Mechanicus.

Typing away at his cogitator, he g.r.o.a.n.e.d as he read the latest requests from the only other planet in the system. Apparently, the local feudal lords had gotten themselves into a war with each other. A war that the main battlefield of which was the main supply depot of the colony.

Approximately five-hundred tons of refined plas-steel had been lost, along with dozens of basic construction vehicles and tools. By his immediate estimates, it would take almost two years to replace the plas-steel alone! It wasn't as if they couldn't produce it, but the construction of further factories on Arus took precedence over the needs of the colony.

What made it difficult was the fact that the colony would not stop sending messages until they had gotten their resources. Therefore Matthias was left with a choice: He could ignore the constant requests and simply proceed as normal, taking two years to deliver the goods, or he could halt all factorial production and produce the material in about a month.

Truly it was a predicament. Begrudgingly, he decided he would put up with the requests, and continue as planned.

What Matthias did not count on, was for the requests to stop coming after a little over a month. He was confused at first, thinking that maybe they had simply given up, and would make do with what they had. His thoughts were corrected when he received the distress call.

"Mayday Mayday! Colony C is under attack by Xeno hostiles! They have already attacked and destroyed Colonies A and B, and if they keep going at this rate, we're next!" The voice said over the intercom.

Mattias' eyes widened in surprise. The requests were coming from Colony A, and now it appeared that said colony had been destroyed by whatever Xeno's were attacking.

Grimacing, the Magos started broadcasting orders to gather the Skitarii. They would need to assist the colonies for all that they were worth. The travel between Arus and the colony world would be less than a week, and he had stopped receiving requests about two weeks ago. Calculating the odds, he was optimistic that they would arrive in time to assist the remaining defenders.

His forces numbers were limited, only having one-hundred combined Skitarii Rangers and Vanguard, with a few dozen Electro-priests and a few Kastalen robots with a single Dunecrawler to aid them.

While in transit, he prayed that the Omnissiah would guide them and that they would not be defeated by the enemies of mankind.

[-----]

Colony world Antigas: 972.M41

Colony C

Matthias would be lying if he said that the colony looked in anything better than ruins. Its walls looked as if they were being held together with spit and prayer, and what few fortifications were left when they arrived were severely undermanned.

Landing his transports inside the city, he was greeted by a very jumpy looking officer.

"Are you those Cogboys from Arus?" He asked.

Matthias nodded, "I am Magos Matthias, and I brought what forces I could spare. I see though that your forces have taken quite the beating." He observed.

The commander scoffed, "Yeah, of course, we have. You think the Dark Eldar have been going easy on us?" he asked condescendingly.

Matthias' eyes narrowed. Not from the commander's words, no those had been expected. It was the fact that it was Dark Eldar that were the ones attacking them. Dark Eldar raids were not an unusual thing in the Imperium, but out as far as they were, he imagined that there was little of value to them.

"When was their last attack?" Matthias asked.

"About two days ago, they came here, killed a bunch of my men and kidnapped the few that couldn't get away." The commander answered with a growl, "The damn Xeno's have been at this for weeks now, and we still don't know what they've been looking for!"

The last statement caught Matthias' attention, "'Looking for' commander? What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean they're looking for something. They landed their sh.i.p.s a few kliks that way," he pointed to the south, "And have been digging ever since. They only attack us because we're here I'd reckon."

Matthias looked to the south, idly wondering what the Dark Eldar would be digging for on a backwater colony planet.

[-----]

Colony world Antigas: 972.M41

Drukhari mining rig

Khal was a simple Drukhari. He tortured slaves, despised his craftworld cousins, avoided politics where he could, and he went on raids from time to time. Again, very simple. So it was with no small amount of surprise that he was given a mission by Lord Vect himself!

He had been assigned to go to some undefended backwater planet in the Mon'keigh Imperium. An easy mission if he did say so himself, but Khal would never have admitted that to Lord Vect, who had stressed the importance of the mission quite a great deal.

Khal idly whipped one of the slaves, yelling at them for their sloppy work and telling them to work faster. They were working plenty fast, that was true, but Khal simply enjoyed the sound of their screams as his whiplashed their flesh.

Silently giggling to himself, Khal walked away from the slaves and towards the edge of the quarry. Forest surrounded the dig site, making it nigh impossible to see from orbit, but there was still the possibility of someone stumbling upon them by accident. He wasn't worried about them causing any real damage, auto-guns weren't really all that effective, but he would rather deal with them sooner rather than later.

What he was very surprised to see, however, was a large number of tech-priests and machines that were marching through the forest towards the quarry.

Panicking slightly, Khal rushed back towards the other Dark Eldar.

"The Mon'keigh have gathered reinforcements!" He yelled out, causing the many lounging Drukhari to perk up, "It the machine worshippers, they have gathered and are almost upon us, we must prepare quickly!"

The Xeno's scrambled all over, some picking up their weapons and others putting bits of armor back on. Others simply injected themselves with combat drugs, feeling the burning rush of the chemical c.o.c.ktails flowing through their blood. Khal himself headed towards the cages that held his secret weapons.

Vect had insisted that he bring some form of protection for anything that might face them, and two Grotesques seemed like they would be enough. The creatures m.o.a.n.e.d in agony, their flesh and bone warped beyond recognition. Khal was unsure whether these creatures had once been Aeldari, Drukhari, or even Mon'keigh, but he had little time to think, as he heard the sounds of battle emanating not far away.

"Alright, let's see what those machine worshipers think of you my pretties," Khal said to himself.

The combat between the Dark Eldar and the Mechanicus was frantic, with Skitarii lasguns dropping several Drukhari and the Tech-priests being cut down one by one. The battle looked fairly even until the Grotesques entered the battlefield.

The lumbering giants m.o.a.n.e.d in agony and suffering, their steps echoing throughout the battlefield. Slamming their oversized weapons into the many Skitarii, they tipped the balance of power in favor of the Drukhari. The tech-priests fought valiantly, with Matthias himself blasting many Dark Eldar and even managing to bring down one of the Grotesques.

By the time the first Grotesque went down, however, it was already too late. The other Grotesque brought its blade down on the already damaged Dunecrawler, finally causing the machine to collapse.

The members of the Mechanicus were losing, and they knew that without reinforcements, they would not last much longer. They were fortunate when several Valkyries descended from the cloud-covered sky, making a strafing run over the Drukhari lines. Several dropsh.i.p.s came and landed among Mechanicus lines, dropping off dozens of guardsmen.

The battle once again shifted, this time in favor of Imperial forces. The Dark Eldar were pushed back to their quarry, and they tried to use the slaves as meat shields, only for said slaves to start turning on them and defending the guardsmen attacking the Xeno's. Before long, the Xeno's were clambering over each other to get to their sh.i.p.s and leave the planet.

With the enemy finally routed, the Guardsmen and Tech-priests cheered in victory. Turning from the fleeing Xeno's, Matthias spotted a man in a black long-coat approaching him.

"Magos, it is a p.l.e.a.s.u.r.e to meet you!" the older man said, a hand outstretched in greeting.

Mattias stuck out his hand and shook the older man's, "The p.l.e.a.s.u.r.e is mine, and if I may ask, who is that assisted the Mechanicus in our time of need?" he asked.

The man smiled, "I am Robert Carolinus, Rogue Trader and Imperial traveler." he answered.

The Magos smiled, "Well then Robert, I thank you for your assistance."

The Rogue Trader nodded, "You are more than welcome. Though, I do have a request…"

[-----]

"And that is how I became part of the crew of the Emperor's Boot, under the command of Robert Carolinus."

Michael and Jarod shared a glance, "So… You were a Magos on a minor Forge world and gave that up to join a Rogue Trader? With no guarantees of survival?" Michael asked.

Matthias scratched the back of his head, "Well when you say it like that it sounds very illogical…"

"It IS illogical!" Jarod chastised the Tech-priest.