The Warp: Unknown time
The borders of Nurgle and Khorne.
"What deal do you wish to make, daemon?" the giant spat out the words as though they were venom, his hand gripping his power sword.
"I do not make deals, wolf." The giant, bloody, fiery figure stated, "My word is my own, and what I say cannot be misconstrued."
"Says the god of the ruinous powers! I have fought many of your servants, and I will not be deceived!" He yelled.
The giant flared, flames escaping from the gaps in his armor, "Do not think I am of deception! I am the king of honor, justice, and war. Do not dare compare me to that blithering sorcerer!" The figure yelled, heat flowing off of him.
"Then why aid us in our mission, in rescuing the tree?!" The wolf asked loudly, "There is always deception amongst you, and you will always have an ulterior motive!"
The giant flared again, gripping his massive, fiery orange blade, "You are right in that I did not aid you out of generosity. But my motives are not for you to know."
The figure waved his hand to the side, and a portal in the warp opened, "This portal will take you to an imperial world. It is under attack from the abomination you know as Slaanesh. Do not think you will be granted such generosity from him."
[-----]
Holy Terra: 999.M41
The High Lords meeting chamber
"We must deal with them. They are getting out of hand!" The Ecclesiarch stated.
"I do believe we are all acutely aware of that fact. But the inquisition cannot strike their own in a time such as this!" The Inquisitorial representative said, slamming a fist on the table,
"They are guilty of neither crime nor heresy, and if we tried to move against them we would have dozens of Astartes chapters storming Terra itself!" The Grand Provost Marshal added.
The fabricator-general clicked and screeched in binary, before speaking in his robotic voice, "They have committed tech-heresy on hundreds of occasions! Yet even the Iron Hands support their actions."
"Then what can we do?!" The Ecclesiarch asked exasperated his hat reflecting how he felt, "We've sent agents of the assassinorum, and they have either been killed or turned to their side."
"We cannot afford to do such a thing again, and for the love of the Emperor would you please take off that RIDICULOUS hat Decius!" The Inquisitor yelled.
"NO! This is the holy uniform of the Adeptus Ministorum! It shall not be tarnished!"
*SLAM*
A Custodes in golden armor burst into the chamber, followed by several other Custodes in their… usual… attire, and some rather… interesting music.
"Captain-General!" The inquisitorial representative said in surprise.
"This meeting is now over," The Captain-General ordered, "The Inquisitor, the Fabricator General, and the Grandmaster of Assassins will be allowed to stay, everyone else must go!"
"What is the meaning of this?!" Decius asked, his hat standing on end.
The Captain-General turned to face the Ecclesiarch, "You are the one that is least required here Ecclesiarch. Return to your chambers, and prepare for the times that come." He ordered ominously.
The many High Lords began to exit the room, many of them grudgingly so, but none were in any position to argue with the Captain-General of the Adeptus Custodes.
"Now. With those ones out of the way… Fabricator General, will you please explain why you continue to associate yourself with those old and worn out hooligans? You may be as old as them, but you are augmented almost to my level."
The Fabricator General shook his head, "You still need someone to work with them, and my emotional circuits fried centuries ago." He explained, "I am without a doubt the best one to deal with them."
"Grand Master, would you please step out of the shadows?" The Custodes asked.
Stepping out from the corner of the room, as if appearing from thin air, the Grandmaster appeared, "Of course, Kitten." He said with a snicker.
The Custodes sighed, "I realize that is the name given to me by most, by must you say it with such contempt?" He asked.
The Grand Master said nothing. Sighing again, Kitten turned to the rest of them, "I assume you are aware of the reason you are gathered here?" He asked.
Everyone present nodded, "Well, I suppose we must discuss what will happen with the Rogue Inquisitor Jarodicus Carolinius. He has been changing the rules of the Imperium far faster than any have been able to in the past." he explained.
"What are we supposed to do about it? The Thirteenth Black Crusade is almost upon us and they have done nothing but prepare us for it!." The inquisitor said, "They may conspire with Xeno's, one of them may even be in an Emperor-be-damned RELATIONSHIP with one, but they are the only ones that have any hope in stopping it!"
The Custodes sighed, "We will do what we must, and at this time, it seems to assist them is our only option." He said with dismay.
The Fabricator General nodded, the Inquisitor groaned, and the Grand Master remained silent.
"With that out of the way then, I adjourn this meeting… Emperor protects us all."
[-----]
The Warp: 985.M41
Transit between Imperial space and unknown systems
"Captains log!" the captain ordered, a beep signifying that his command was recognized, "It is the two hundred and second day of the year 985.M41, I have lived for three hundred and twenty-six years, and never in all that time did I imagine that I would ever find a worthy successor."
He reached into a cabinet and pulled out a bottle filled with red liquid and a clear glass, "He is smart, strong-willed, and more than capable of choosing his own path. His close friends can assure him of that." He said with a smile.
"It's strange," He started while pouring himself a glass of wine, "Not even a month ago I received a distress call from a planet facing the horrors of Chaos, only to find out when I arrived that the Guardsmen there had killed a Daemon of the warp! Ridiculous I am aware, but in hindsight, it is no surprise considering who my successor is." He took a sip from his wine.
"According to him he simply flipped the power pack of his lasgun, and the thing started shooting at an incredible efficiency. Many adepts would likely call him a Heretek, but I prefer the term, Innovator! He has increased the lifespan of all the guardsmen here by at least two wolves… er, that is his unit of measurement, not one of my own." He chugged the last of his glass.
"Last week was when he really impressed me though. I was aware that Ork technology was easily influenced but… well, his level of ingenuity is far above even my own." he sighed, "I intend on telling him in the next few days. He will make a fine successor, of that I am sure." He sat his glass down on his desk, "End log."
[-----]
8 days earlier
Calumis IV
"I. AM. NOT. BULLETPROOF!" Jarod yelled as he drove away from the oncoming mass of gretchins chasing him, firing shootas and the bullets pinging off of the surrounding rocks.
The plan was oh so simple, lead the Orks down a ravine and then when they were all gathered there, push the giant creatures down into it and let them have at each other. Getting the Orks to follow Jarod was the easy part, the hard part was getting the creatures to fall into the ravine.
"Come on big fella," Michael coaxed the giant lizard, "Just step towards the Ravine… that's it come on… almost there…"
The giant reptilian screeched, twisting itself around and trying to run off, only to be pulled back by several Guardsmen holding it down with rope… many of which were still tripped up and fell on their faces.
Michael groaned again, before looking towards the rest of the troops under his command. They seemed to be having better luck than him as the rest of the lizards were now standing at the edge of the cliff. Looking down, he saw the wave of green heading towards them, with a single bike at the front of the pack.
Jarod had surprisingly volunteered to be chased by the orkoid hoard, even going so far as to pick out the vehicle he would use.
Michael reached out to his vox caster, who handed him the vox, "Richard! How's the other side of the ravine?" he asked.
Static came through the vox channel, before Richard's voice came through, "We've got most of them in position Captain, they're not fond of the edge though. You think they know our plan?"
"Eh, fifty-fifty. Though the one I'm standing next probably knows for sure." Michael said, the screech of the lizard giving credence to his statement.
Suddenly the vox sparked with activity, "WHERE IS THE THUNDERHAWK!" Jarod yelled as he started driving towards the end of the ravine, where it widened out and dropped off a cliff.
"It should be there any second-" The aforementioned thunderhawk flew above Michaels' head, "-you'll have plenty of time."
Looking down into the ravine, he saw nothing but a mass of green, with a few pieces of grey metal and yellowish sparks of gunfire dotted about.
"Richard, the second Jarod is clear give the order to push them off the cliff. Understand?"
"Yes, sir! Waiting on your command,"
Jarod meanwhile was less than a hundred meters from the edge of the cliff when he says the thunderhawk finally pull up to the edge. The bike reached the edge, and as it flew off, Jarod jumped from it and grabbed the edge of the thunderhawk, hauling himself inside. Looking back, he saw dozens of Orks falling off the cliff's edge trying to chase after him, as well as the now lost bike tumbling into the ocean below.
Reaching his hand up to his vox bead, "I'm clear! Operation Lizard Blood is a go!" he called out.
Upon the cliff, the vax caster turned to Michael nodding his head, "Alright! Shove 'em off!" Michael yelled.
The guardsmen all along the ledge began pushing the giant lizards kicking and hissing off the edge of the cliff. The Lizards fell a good fifty meters down the cliff before they came crashing into the Ork horde. The Orks roared in joy, hacking and slashing at the giant creatures with their choppas and blasting them with their shootas.
The Lizards stomped dozens of Orks, killing them in droves before they finally fell, their enemies being covered in purple fluorescent blood. Eventually, the last lizard fell, letting out a gurgled cry as it crashed on top a mob of Orks, killing those that failed to get out of the way.
The Orks didn't seem to notice though, as many were covered in the purple paint-like blood.
"Oi! Boz! Where are ya' git?" An Ork called out.
"I'm over 'ere ya' git!"
The Ork turned, swinging his choppa in a wide arc and hitting another Ork it the face knocking him over, "Oi! Watch it ya' git! Ah can' see nuffin!" the aforementioned Ork cried out.
"Dat's cuz we all covered in purple! Da ting's bleed purple, and now we all stealfy loik." Another Ork explained.
The Orks continued their banter before many of them began fighting each other. The Guardsmen up on the cliff's edge readied their lasguns but were ordered to stand down.
"Let them kill each other, save us some ammo," Michael explained.
After a few minutes, the fighting started to die down, the orks numbers being cut down to a fifth of what they had been originally.
"Alright boys, let 'em have it!" Michael called out.
The hundreds of Guardsmen lining the cliffs began raining down lasfire, their modified Mars pattern lasgun's firing more powerful shots and tearing through Orks. Before long the ravine was emptied of all living Orks, and the guardsmen cheered. An entire Ork army defeated without a single guardsman dying. As far as the majority was concerned, the Emperor really was watching over them.
The guardsmen celebrated, returning to one of the major imperial cities on the planet. Using what few thrones each guardsman had, they managed to empty out many of the taverns in the city, with three full regiments downing enough combined alcohol to make a Space Wolf jealous.
"You know," Michael began as he put his mug of amesec down, "I never imagined amesec would be the first taste of alcohol."
Jarod let out a hearty laugh from across the table, Richard tilting his head in confusion, "You've never had alcohol before?" he asked surprised.
Michael shook his head, "Not once! Though I will say, I don't think I could get addicted to the stuff…" He said as he sniffed the mug.
Jarod chuckled, "Eh, could be worse. This stuff is better then Rozvod, and we could've been drinking fermented Ork blood!
Richard cringed, "I did not need to know that existed…"
Both the interdimensional travelers laughed.
Before long it came time for the regiments to leave the planet and return to the ship. Climbing onto the transports, they left the planet's surface in the hands of the planetary governor. When they returned to the Rogue Traders ship, they almost immediately left for their next destination, which according to their astropath, as an unexplored system that would take a few weeks to reach.
In the meantime, Michael and Jarod busied themselves with writing what they called, 'The Imperial Guard tactical Codex' which would be distributed among their troops. It wasn't actually tactics per se, as it was closer to a 'what not to do' as it detailed accounts of others mistakes and how they could have easily been avoided.
The first edition of the book went over rather well with the troops, as the text in it had already saved the lives of more than a few of their men.
As for how Michael and Jarod had risen in the ranks so quickly? They had basically been the first to volunteer, and they were basically building a regiment from the ground up, so they had started at the top. Several had argued their positions at first, but a handful of engagements with Orks and minimal casualties quieted any further disputes.
Now that they were back in the warp, there was little to do but wait for their arrival.
[------]
Aurorum-III: 985.M41
Elirom sighed for the thousandth time since he had awoken from his vision. While he was thankful for the visions, he felt he would never truly understand what they meant. He saw visions of Aeldari and Mon'keigh fighting side-by-side against some greater threat, most likely of the warp-born variant.
While that was not completely unprecedented, the fact that they happened with such frequency disturbed him.
Walking down the wraithbone hallways of the craft world, he pondered his latest vision. In it, He saw his brethren of Aurorum-III under attack from a horde of Orks, their brutal tactics coming to bear upon them.
They were fighting a losing battle, but before they could fully lose, their soulstones forever lost, those same two Mon'keigh from his first vision appeared, and the tide was turned against the greenskins. With the help of the humans, the battle was one with speeds that should not have been possible, even with their assistance.
After the battle, he saw himself and the two human's conversing, though what his future-self was speaking to them about was lost on him, as the vision ended soon thereafter.
Elirom stumbled upon the Screaming Banshee Exarch as she also seemed to be deep in thought, "Exarch, It is good to see you roaming the halls here." he said with a warm smile.
The Banshee nodded, producing a smile of her own, albeit much colder than his own.
"The pleasure is mine Farseer. Might I ask what you are doing walking the halls?" She asked.
"Merely pondering my latest vision. It seems we may make contact with the Mon'keigh sooner than we had intended." He explained.
The Banshee grimaced, "Farseer, I am aware your visions have never led us astray but… are you so sure that these Mon'keigh will be the ones to help us?" she asked, clearly doubtful.
Elirom smiled, "I do believe that they will. If nothing else they will help us keep our brethren from being needlessly killed by other imperials. Though might I ask Exarch, why do you wish vehemently to be wrong?" He asked out of curiosity.
The Exarch frowned, "You know my opinions of the Mon'keigh, and you know my experience with them. I will not have them make our people suffer." She said.
Elirom nodded, "A sensible objective. Though I must ask that you restrain yourself when it concerns these two, as they harbor no ill will toward the Aeldari and only wish to help."
The Exarch walked past the Farseer, "If they make any move to harm any one of us, I will not hesitate to strike them down." she said before continuing on her path.
Elirom smiled, before turning to continue his walk. Isha knows what those two would do when they reached them, but he could only hope that whatever their plans, they would be beneficial to his craft world.
[------]
The Warp: 985.M41
The Emperors Boot
Jarod walked down the corridors of The Emperors Boot idly glancing at the graffiti that covered the walls. Much of it was prayers to the Emperor, soldiers names, or just random images scrawled onto the wall.
He would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous that the Rogue Trader had called for him specifically. Granted he wasn't exactly afraid per se, but it wasn't as if he knew the man all that well. Yes they had spoken on several occasions and yes he did find the man rather agreeable, but he seemed to be one of the more extreme members of his kind.
While he hadn't exactly seen any chaotic symbolism or Xeno technology, there were many modifications to equipment and weapons that many among the Adeptus Mechanicus would consider tech-heresy.
That isn't to say that he would ever rat the man out -- he fully supported any and all of the modifications he had seen thus far -- but it was surprising. It was also worth mentioning that many of the Tech Adepts seemed at peace with the modifications and even seemed to be skipping out on a few of their incenses and rituals.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he entered the office of the Rogue Trader. The room was well lit and was covered in shelves stacked with books, trinkets, and trophies. At the center of the room sat a desk where the man sat typing away at his personal cogitator. Jarod wondered if the man had noticed him, only for him to gesture to the seat at the other side of the desk before Jarod could speak.
Jarod sat in the chair, leaning back into it slightly. The Rogue Trader said nothing, continuing to type away as if ignoring him. Jarod opened his mouth to speak before the man in front of him interrupted his train of thought.
"You are probably wondering why I called for you."
Jarod nodded, "Yes sir."
The Rogue Trader stopped typing, "Don't ever call me sir again. You will either refer to me as Cap or Robert, do you understand?" He asked.
Jarod nodded, "Yes si- I mean yes Robert." Jarod said squirming in his seat.
Robert nodded, continuing to type.
Jarod took the time to look at the room around him. Several of the trophies on the many shelves seemed to be of Xeno origin, including a Tyranid skull, an Ork power klaw, and an Eldar helmet. How Robert had managed to get a hold of these was unknown to Jarod, however, he felt even more nervous as several minutes passed with nothing but the sound of Roberts typing echoing throughout the room.
Finally, Robert spoke.
"And done!" He said pressing a key, followed by the sound of parchment paper printing from a printer below the desk.
"You see Jarod, something that you learn when you live as long as I do, is that you are very mortal. I won't live forever, you won't live forever, even an Astartes can't reasonably hope to live forever." He explained, reaching down to the printed and stacking the many newly printed paper.
"And when you get to be someone of my standing -- lots of money, lots of power, and no family to speak of -- you find yourself with a problem."
"You don't have an heir." Jarod observed.
"Precisely! I knew you were observant." He said with a grin, "Anyway, I do not have an heir, And were I to simply just die than my title would just go to some shmuck from Terra with no idea which end of a lasgun is the shooting end."
His grin widened as he passed the stack of papers to Jarod, "Which is exactly why you are being promoted."
Jarod hesitantly grabbed the documents and began reading them. His eyes bulged out of his head when he fully realized the implications of what Robert was saying.
"You… You want me to take your place?!" Jarod asked, disbelief clear on his face.
Robert burst out laughing, "Of course I do! I haven't seen anyone deal with Orks like that since I first became captain, not to mention your little modifications with your lasguns!" He explained.
Jarod managed to get over his shock rather quickly, shaking his head and continuing to read the document. He blinked at the implications, before looking up to the Rogue Trader, "Well, I guess you just made me an offer I can't refuse."