#does she know and still frack the emperor

[amarmeme]

WIP — emperor gives psychic damage to Luscinia by stealing Maraleth’s (her mentor’s) appearance. I think it’ll be three panels. Wish me luck. 🤞

[ask-constantinvaldor]

Old Man Valdor  (Logan AU)

This fic is a little AU I came up with a few weeks ago. I might continue it or this might end up being a oneshot.  @sisterofsilence

Constantin Valdor, former Captain-General of the Legio Custodes awoke to whispers and the clanking of hand tools.  He let out a groan of frustration and he moved the driver’s side seat of his 25 Mars pattern limo backup.

He stumbled out and found himself facing four gangers, all gene-forged hunks with poorly casted iron teeth.  They were trying to steal his car’s hubcaps.  If they were smarter, they might have just considered stealing the car itself

“Evening, you do realize those are chrome plated lugs right?  You’re going to strip them.”

The gangers did not even respond.  Instead, they shot him with stub cannon.

He lay there for a while on the cold, irradiated dirt and then rose again.

“Gentlemen I’m going to give you one chance to leave.  I’m in a good mood tonight.”

The gang raised their weapons.

Constantin drew his own.

 When Constantin Valdor became the first Custodes his King had gifted him strength that had surpassed a Space Marine, Speed that was as fast as a motorbike, a healing factor that granted him virtual immortality and claws of bone that sprouted from between his knuckles.  Late he had undergone   a rather painful procedure that had bonded the unbreakable metal Adamantium to his bone claws and entire skeleton.

The gangers rushed him.  One of them bashed him in the skull with a shock maul.  Constantin rewarded him by burying his claws into the man’s skull.  Valdor removed the hand of the ganger carrying the stub cannon.  Unfortunately, it went off and a round pinged off the door of the limo,

“Motherfracker!”  Valdor roared.  He rammed his claws deep into the ganger’s chest.  He pulled them out and raked them across his face, sending him sprawling to the ground.

The third ganger emptied an auto pistol into Valdor and ran.  Valdor staggered as his enhanced physiology and healing factor handled his injuries.

Valdor caught his breath, his blood pooling from his wounds.  He grunted as bullets slowly and painfully exited his body.  Twenty-five years ago, the gangers would not have been able to lay a finger on him.   

 But that had been twenty five years ago

And Terra and the Imperium of Man was not the same one it was twenty-five years ago.

Neither was Constantin Valdor.   His hair was no longer in its signature Mohawk but in a disheveled mess.  He had grown a beard.  His eyes were no longer that of a vigilant bodyguard, but of a broken old man trying to survive in the smoldering ashes of a galaxy that had once been on fire.  

 He stumbled back into the limo he had leased and drove off

 “And in today’s news, Lord Guilliman reassures citizens that warp travel is still stable after yesterday’s flicker in the Astronomicon. Citizens are reminded -

Valdor changed the vox station, than growled and shut it off.

Constantin hated funerals.  He hated foul weather.  Both had reared their ugly heads today.  The former was because he never had the chance to bury his fellow Custodians or the woman he had loved.  The latter was because like any sane human being, rain was always a nuisance.

He let the semi -acidic rain patter on him as he guzzled a flask of Vostrayan amesac.  It was empty in seconds;   He chucked the flask and walked to those mourning some bigshot Administratum clerk.

“Constantin Valdor.”  A cultured, raspy voice said.  

 The former member of the Ten Thousand turned and found himself facing a traitor.

Fabius Bile was no longer the promising young Apothecary of the IIIrd who interned in the gene labs of the Imperial Palace in the heady first years of the Great Crusade.  He was still a thrice-damned traitor, but he had looked a lot better during Horus’ temper tantrum than he did now.

Bile was thinner than an Ogryn.  His face was gaunt and heavily lined.  His hands were shaking and his hair was thin.  He no longer wore his Power armor or coat of human skin.  Instead, he wore thin grey robes with a brown cloak.

“I need your help.  Please, I am in trouble.  Guilliman has gone madder than my own father has.  He’s opened your master’s gene forges he’s-”

“Stay the frack away from me.”  Valdor replied.  He walked away, not even listening to him ramble about “Gland hounds and “He’s trying to make more of you Custodes.”

The former mad scientist drove past him in a battered red car.  A young girl in a red cloak was staring at him.   

“Who was that?” one of the mourners asked.   

‘Some crazy old man.”  Valdor replied.  He reached for the second flask of Amesac in his coat pocket

“As I live and breathe, Constantin Valdor himself.”

 Constantin quickly jerked his head around, shoving the medication he had gotten through ill begotten means in his suit pocket.

“And he’s a junkie now.” the Astartes said.

“Who the frack are you?”  Valdor asked.

“Captain Aenoid Thel.”  The Astartes said.  He was handsome clad in a blue chiton and combat boots.  A  combat knife and bolt pistol strapped to his hip.  Valdor noticed his right hand was not original but a cloned one.  

“I hope you noticed there’s a bullet hole in your door.” the Ultramarine said

“Did Fabius find you yet?”  Thel asked.

Valdor did not reply. 

“You know the Arbites found a couple of dead Dhakal gangers in a pull out on Route 50.  They narrowed it down to a Night Lord, or the old holo film character Freddy Kruger.  And neither of those makes sense.  One’s rotting in the Eye of Terror the other being fictional.”

Valdor remained silent.

“You see my lord; I’m not looking for you, or Lady Arlette.  In addition, while my primarch would be elated to know where you took his father, that is not my primary objective.  I'm looking for someone who’s looking for you.  Besides I already know where you three are anyway.”

Thel leaned forward.  He had the smugness that all the XIIIth had.  It made Valdor want to jam his claws through the Ultramarine’s brain.

“You see, Fabius Bile was sentenced to forced research for the rest of his life.  He stole something from me.  Something I am responsible for.  Something that is invaluable to the future of the Imperium of Man.”

“If I had seen Fabius Bile, I would have killed him myself.  Now get the frack out of my car.”  Valdor said as evenly as he could.

Thel pulled a business card out of his chiton.

“If Bile does find you.”  The legionnaire said as he exited the card.

Valdor was quite surprised that the Ultramarine had a business card.  Valdor had never had one and he had commanded the bodyguard of the Emperor himself.

The card read:

Captain Aenoid Thel- Captain 2nd Company of the Ultramarines

Chief of Security- Imperial Palace Gene Labs

 “Frack!  Frack! Frack!”  Valdor roared.

Valdor’s destination was old smelting facility that had been the property of Tribune Arlette Augusta Amon Rakaposhi Gorro.  Something the history books left out was that the Imperium wasn’t just built by the Legiones Astartes, Solar Auxilla and Mechanicum, it had been built on the property of warlords who allied with the Emperor of Man in the Unification Wars.  What determined how wealthy someone was in the Imperium of Man was not the coin in their pockets or the valuables they possessed, but their estate.  Whether it was few acres of farmland or an entire planet.

The former Empress had not changed at all.  Physically she was just as beautiful and just as awe-inspiring as she had been in the glorious days of the Great Crusade.  She wore the plain robes of a remembrancer under a thick, tan cloak.   

“He’s having a bad day.”  Arlette greeted.

“They’re all bad days.”  Valdor growled as he placed the medication on the table.  He scoured the fridge, retrieving some lamb chops and vegetables.

“Stan, the dosage is too low.  This won’t last us a week.”  Arlette said in a tone that implied she had lost count of the number of times she had told him..

“I’m working on it.”  Stan said as he shoved the food into the battered microwave.

“He claims to be communicating with someone.” Arleete continued as Valdor waited for their shitty microwave to warm his food.

“Sure he does.”  Valdor replied as he took his food outiside the cheap plastic confines of the Microwave.  He  grabbed a clean fork and knife and took a bite of lamb.

“It was much more detailed than his usual delusions.”  Arlette said with a sad smile.  “He’s been asking questions.  Trying to read my mind.”

Valdor sighed, picked up the medication, grabbed a syringe and made his way to the tank outside their humble abode.

 Time may not have been kind to Constantin Valdor, but she had been a bitch to the Emperor of Mankind.

Former Emperor of Mankind that is.

Valdor still called him the Emperor.  Guilliman was not a legitimate ruler or regent and Valdor did not know his King’s real name.

“Is that you Alistair?”  The Emperor asked.  

The Emperor of Mankind’s mind was shattered.  The betrayal of nine of His sons, the death of two that had stayed loyal and one of His closest friends, His greatest work and the only hope for humanity’s salvation from the gods of Chaos ruined.  It had all been too much for His mind to bear.  The weight of that trauma, coupled with all His previous lives was a jumbled mess.  A hurricane of love and loss, victory and defeat.

The Emperor’s mind was just as broken, His body was a shattered mess.  He was missing His left arm and eye and He was now confined to a wheelchair.  His lustrous black hair had gone silver and was now greasy and stringy.

Constantin stood before his king.  His king who just like him, was shell of their former self.  

“Make way sir.” The man who had once fought the Void-Dragon said.

“I said make way!  Do you  know who I am you  wretched peasant! I am Lord Lionel Nevermoor!”

Constantin let his lord wheel himself around for a few minutes and then stood in front of him when he finished circling around the chamber.  

“Who are you?” The Emperor asked as Constantin rolled up his sleeve.

“You know who I am.” Valdor said.

“The man who puts me to sleep.” He answered.

“We could both use some sleep my king.” Valdor said.  He raised the syringe.

“ No!” The Emperor howled.  He grasped Valdor’s arm  with a surprising amount of strength.  The two grappled for a minute   The Emperor tumbled out of his wheelchair.

‘What are you doing to me?” The Emperor cried.

“My king please-

 Golden light surrounded the Emperor as a pulse of psychic power rang through  the air.  

Valdor groaned in agony.  He strained against a tidal wave of power.  His adamantium bones creaked.  

He pressed onward’s the needle descending in slow motion. Valdor prayed to half-forgotten deities that his King’s  malfunctioning mind’s power would not shatter him and reduce him to  paste.

The needle punctured flesh and in a second the pulse of warp energy faded.

Silence filled the tank.

 Valdor picked up his liege and  placed him in his bed.  He pulled a comforter over the Emperor, than placed two pills in his trembling hand.  Valdor  opened a bottle of water and poured it into  a cup.

“What are these?” The Emperor questioned.

“The shot’s mellow the seizures  The pills keep them from happening.” Valdor stated.

“You  want to  blow on them?” Valdor said, trying to cage his frustration.

“Fuck off Constantin.”  The Emperor of Mankind said.  He held out his hand for the cup of water.

“So you remember who I am.”  

“I always remember who you  are Constantin.  It’s just that I sometimes I don’t recognize you.”  The Emperor said after he took the pills and placed the empty cup of water on the nightstand..  

“Leaving my alone with that fracking wench that looks like Arlette. Like I don’t know what  a speciation is.”   The Emperor mumbled.

 “A what?” Valdor questioned.

 “There’s a Ligo Aetos.   A young one. The XIIIth and his sons want her.  She needs our help.”

“Well it's too bad you’re not in that business anymore my King.” Valdor said as evenly as he could.  He wished the cold feeling in his blood would go away.

“It’s not my help they  want, it's yours Stan.  That’s how stupid they are.  They’re waiting for you.  At the Statue of Ishtar.”

“The Statue of Ishtar  was a long time my king.  A long time.” Valdor said.   He remembered that day  like it was yesterday.  The first battle he had fought in as a Custodian.  The first battle the Emperor of Mankind and Arlette Amon Augusta Rakaposhi Gorro fought side by  side against the techno-barbarians  that would not bend their knee to  them.

“There hasn’t been any Ligo Aetos in twentyfive years.  No Sisters of Silence either.” Valdor  stated.  It wasn’t the first time he had told his King this.  He had a feeling the words would not sink in.

“Impossible.” the Emperor of Mankind replied.  He bit his lip and studied the empty sleeve where his arm was.

“You always thought humanity had a destiny My King.  Maybe you were wrong.  Maybe humanity was a mistake.”

“What a disappointment you’ve become.” the Emperor stated coldly.  

“When I found you, you  were pursuing a career as a blade for service in the Khatun of the Caucuss Step’s horde.  You were little better than an ork.  But I took you in.  Turned you into something better.  Gave you a family.”

“They’re gone now.” Valdor said barely holding back  the snarl that almost escaped his lips.

Valdor turned to leave.

“Constantin, what did you do?” the Emperor asked.

“Answer me!  I command it! Why are we here?  Is Arlette safe?  Where’s Malcador and Jenetia? Where are Rogal and Sanguinius? Where’s Jaghati?   Answer me Janus! ” 

Valdor opened the door.

“Not even an Eldar should have to live like this! Drugged and kept in a tank!”

“It’s for your own good!” Valdor snapped.  The anger he was holding back pouring into  the five words that left his chapped lips.

“No it’s not!   You’re waiting for me to die!  You betrayed me like Horus did!”   The Emperor wailed.

The door slammed shut and the Master of Mankind was left alone to babble in a million dead tongues.  His only company the ghosts of a million lives.

The passing train  shook the glass of whiskey on the desk. Valdor ignored it, for he was occupied with  pulling out one of his claws that had failed to  fully extend.  Blood dripped from the adamantium talon to mix with blood that had stained the floor yesterday.  He grunted in pain as it finally fully extended.

 Valdor studied the claw for a minute.  Than the former Custodes stared at  Veracity.  The beautiful silver greatsword was the only clean thing in the room.  It was the only thing Valdor had taken with him when he fled the Imperial Palace with Arlette and the Emperor.   

 What would you think of us now Jen?  Our King, now a paraplegic madman whose power could wipe out everyone on the Throneworld.  Arlette, once the woman who  ruled alongside the Master of Mankind, now playing nursemaid?  What would you think of me? The Captain-General of the Legio Custodes, The sun to your moon?  Now a drunk, dying old man?  What would you think of the Imperium you helped build?  Guilliman hasn’t ruined it yet but he will.

 By all the forgotten God’s and Goddesses why does a piece of grox-shit like me draw breath while your bones lie cold and left to rot by the Ultramarines?

 Constantin Valdor fell asleep that night the same way he always did.  Half-drunk and in indescribable emotional and physical pain.

[templarhalo]

Old Man Valdor

A little AU idea I had.  Not sure if this will  be expanded upon or remain a one shot.  @sisterofsilence

Constantin  Valdor, former Captain-General of the Legio Custodes  awoke to whispers and the clanking of hand tools.   He let out a groan of frustration and hemoved the driver’s side seat of his 25 Mars pattern limo backup.

He stumbled out and found himself facing four gangers, all geneforged hunks with  poorly casted iron teeth.  They  were trying to steal his car’s hubcaps.   If they  were smarter, they might have just considered stealing the car itself

“ Evening, you  do realize those are chrome plated lugs right? You’re going to strip them.”

The gangers didn’t even respond.   Instead they shot  him with a stub cannon.

He lay there for a while on the cold, irradiated dirt and then rose  again.

“ Gentlemen I’m going to give you one chance to leave.  I’m in a good mood tonight.”

The gang raised their weapons.

Constantin drew his own.

When Constantin  Valdor  became the first Custodes his King had gifted him strength  that had surpassed a Space Marine, Speed that was as fast as a motorbike, a healing factor that granted him  virtual immortality and claws of bone that sprouted from between his knuckles. Late he had undergone   a rather painful procedure that had bonded the unbreakable metal Adamantium  to  his bone claws and entire skeleton.

The gangers rushed him. One of  them bashed him in the skull with a shock maul.  Constantin rewarded him by burying his claws into the man’s skull.   Valdor removed the hand of the ganger carrying the stub cannon.  Unfortunately it went off and a round pinged off the door of the limo,

“Motherfracker!” Valdor roared.  He  rammed his claws deep into  the ganger’s chest.  He pulled them  out and raked them across his face, sending him sprawling to the ground.

The third ganger emptied an auto pistol into  Valdor and ran.  Valdor staggered as his enhanced physiology and healing factor handled his injuries.

Valder caught his breath, his blood pooling from his wounds.  He grunted as bullets slowly and painfully exited his body.  Twenty five years ago  the gangers wouldn't have been able to  lay  a finger on him.   

But that had been twenty five years ago

And Terra and the Imperium of Man was not the same one it was twenty-five years ago.

Neither was Constantin Valdor.

His hair was no longer in its signature mohawk but in  a dishevelled mess.   He had grown a beard.  His eyes were no longer that of a vigilant bodyguard, but of a broken old man trying to survive in the  smoldering  ashes of a galaxy that had once been on fire.  

He stumbled back into  the limo he had leased and drove off

“ And in today’s news, Lord Guilliman  reassures citizens that warp travel  is still  stable after yesterday’s flicker in the Astronomicon.   Citizens are reminded -

Valdor changed the vox station, than growled and shut it off.

Constantin  hated funerals. He hated foul weather. Both had reared their ugly heads today.    The former was because he never had the chance to bury his fellow Custodians or the woman he had loved.   The latter was because like any sane human being  rain was always a nuisance.

He let the semi -acidic rain  patter on him as he guzzled a flask of Vostrayan amesac.  It was empty in seconds,   He chucked the flask and walked to those mourning some bigshot Administratum clerk.

“Constantin Valdor.”  a cultured, raspy voice said.  

The former member of the Ten Thousand  turned and found himself facing a traitor.

Fabius Bile was no longer the promising young Apothecary of the IIIrd who  interned in the gene labs of the Imperial Palace in  the heady first years of the Great Crusade.  He was still a thrice damned traitor,  but he had looked a let better during Horus’ temper tantrum than he did now.

Bile was thinner than an Ogryn.  His face was gaunt and heavily lined.  His hands were shaking and his hair was thin.  He no longer wore his Power armor or coat of human skin. Instead he wore thin grey robes with a brown coak.

“I need your help.  Please, I’m in trouble.  Guilliman has gone  madder than my own father. He’s opened your master’s gene forges he’s-”

“Stay the frack away from me.”  Valdor replied.   He walked  away  not even listening to  him ramble about  “Gland hounds and “He’s trying to make more of you Custodes.”

The former mad scientist drove past him in  a battered red car.   A young girl  in  a red cloak was staring at him.   

“Who was that?” one of the mourners asked.   

‘Some crazy old man.” Valdor replied.   He reached for the second flask of Amesac in his coat pocket

  .    

 “As I live and breath, Constantin  Valdor himself.”

Constanitn  quickly jerked his head around, shoving the medication he had gotten through ill begotten means in his suit pocket.

“And he’s a junkie now.” the Astartes said.

“Who the frack are you?” Valdor asked.

“Captain Aenoid Thel.” The Astartes said.   He was handsome clad in a blue chiton and  combat boots.  A regular combat knife and bolt pistol strapped to  his hip. Valdor noticed his right hand was not original  but a cloned one.  

“I hope you noticed there’s a bullet hole in your door.” the Ultramarine said

“Did Fabius find you yet?”  Thel asked.

Valdor didn’t reply

“You know the Arbites found a couple of dead Dhakal  gangers in  a pull out on  route 50.  They narrowed it down to a Night Lord, or the old holo film character Freddy Kruger. And neither those makes sense.  One’s rotting in the Eye of Terror the other being fictional.”

. Valdor remained silent.

“You see my lord, I’m not looking for you, or Lady Arlette. And while my primarch would be elated to  know where you  took his father, that’s not my primary  objective.   I’m looking for someone who’s looking for you.   Besides I already  know where you  three are anyway.”

Thel leaned forward.   He had the smugness that all the XIIIth had. It made Valdor want to jam his claws through  the Ultramarine’s brain.

“You see, Fabius Bile was sentenced to forced research for the rest of his life.   He stole something from me.  Something I am responsible for.  Something that is invaluable to the future of the Imperium of Man.”

“If I had seen Fabius Bile, I would have killed him myself.   Now get the frack out of my car” Valdor said as evenly as he could.

Thel pulled a business card out of his chiton.

“If Bile does find you.”  The legionnaire said as he exited the card.

Valdor was quite surprised that the Ultramarine had a business card.   Valdor had never had one  and he had commanded the bodyguard of the Emperor himself.

The card read.

Captain Aenoid Thel- Captain 2nd Company of the Ultramarines

Chief of Security- Imperial Palace Gene Labs

“Frack! Frack! Frack!” Vador roared.

Valdor’s destination  was old smelting facility that had been the property of Tribune Arlette Augusta Amon Rakaposhi Gorro.    Something the history  books left out was that the Imperium wasn’t just built by the Legiones Astartes, Solar Auxilla  and Mechanicum , it had been built on  the property of warlords who allied with  the Emperor of Man in the Unification Wars.   What determined how wealthy  someone was in the Imperium of Man  was not the coin in their pockets or the valuables they  possessed, but their estate.  Whether it was few acres of farmland  or an entire planet.

The former Empress had not changed at all.  Physically she was just as beautiful and just as awe inspiring as she had been in the glorious days of the Great Crusade.   She wore the plain robes of a remembrancer  under a think tan cloak.   

“He’s having a bad day.” Arlette said.

“They’re all bad days.” Valdor growled as he placed the medication on the table. He scoured the fridge, retrieving some  lamb chops and vegetables.

“Stan, the dosage is too low. This won’t last us a week.” Arlette said.

“I’m working on  it.” Stan said as he shoved the food into  the battered microwave.

“He claims to  be communicating with someone.” Arlette continued as the Microwave beeped.   Valdor removed his dinner and sat down.   

“Sure he did.” Valdor said as he grabbed a clean fork and knife and took  a bite of lamb.

“It was much  more detailed than his usual delusions.” Arlette said with a sad smile.    “He’s been asking questions. Trying to  read my mind.”

Valdor sighed,picked up  the medication, grabbed a syringe and made his way  to the tank outside their humble abode.

Time may not have been kind to  Constantin Valdor, but she had been a bitch  to  the Emperor of Mankind.

Former Emperor of Mankind that is.

Valdor still called him the Emperor.  Guilliman was not a legitimate ruler or regent and Valdor did not know his King’s real name.

“Is that you  Alistair?” The Emperor asked.  

The Emperor of Mankind’s mind was shattered.   The  betrayal of nine of his sons.  The death of  two that had stayed loyal and one of his closest friends.  His greatest work and the only hope for humanity’s salvation from the gods of Chaos ruined.. It had all been too much  for his mind to  bear.   The weight of that trauma, coupled with all his previous lives was a jumbled mess.  A hurricane of love and loss, victory and defeat.

The Emperor’s mind was just as broken, his body was a shattered mess.  He was missing his left arm and eye and he was now confined to  a wheelchair. His lustrous black  hair had gow silver and was now greasy and stringy.

Constantin stood before his king.  His king who just like him, was shell of their former self.  

“Make way sir.” The man who had once fought the Void-Dragon said.

“I said make way! Do you  know who I am you  wretched peasant! I am Lord Lionel Nevermoor!”

Constantin let his lord wheel himself around for a few minutes. Than he placed himself in front of him.

“Who are you?” The Emperor asked as Constantin rolled up his sleeve.

“You know who I am.” Valdor said.

“The man who puts me to sleep.”

“We could both use some sleep my king.” Valdor said. He raised the syringe.

“ No!” The Emperor said.  He grasped Valdor’s arm  with a surprising amount of strength.   The two grappled for a minute   The Emperor tumbled out of his wheelchair.

‘What are you doing to me?” The Emperor wailed.

“My king please-

Golden light surrounded the Emperor as a pulse of psychic power rang through  the air.  

Valdor groaned in agony.   He strained against a tidal wave of power.  His adamantium bones creaked.  

He pressed onwards the needle descending in slow motion.   Valdor prayed to  half forgtton deites that his King’s  malfunctioning mind’s power would not shatter him and reduce him to  paste.

The needle punctured flesh and in  a second the pulse of warp energy faded.

Silence filled the  tank.

Valdor picked up his liege and  placed him in his bed.    He pulled a comforter over the Emperor, than placed two pills in his trembling hand.  Valdor  opened a bottle of water and poured it into  a cup.

“What are these?” The Emperor questioned.

“The shot’s mellow the seizures  The pillows keep them from happening.” Valdor stated.

“You  want to  blow on them?” Valdor said, trying to  cage his frustration.

“Fuck off Constantin.”  the Emperor of Mankind said.  He held out his hand for the cup of water.

“So you remember who I am.”  

“I always remember who you  are Constantin. It’s just that I sometimes I don’t recognize you.”  The Emperor said after he took the pills and placed the empty cup of water on the nightstand..  

“Leaving my alone with that fracking wench that looks like Arlette. Like I don’t know what speciation is.” The Emperor mumbled.

“A what?” Valdor questioned.

“There’s a Ligo Aetos.   A young one. The XIIIth and his sons want her.  She needs our help.”

“Well it's too bad you’re not in that business anymore my King.” Valdor said as evenly as he could.  He wished the cold feeling in his blood would go away.

“It’s not my help  they  want, it's yours Stan.  That’s how stupid they  are.  They’re waiting for you.  At the Statue of Ishtar.”

“The Statue of Ishtar  was a long time my king.  A long time.” Valdor said.   He remembered that day  like it was yesterday.  The first battle he had fought in as a Custodian.  The first battle the Emperor of Mankind and Arlette Amon Augusta Rakaposhi Gorro, the Khatun of Caucuss Stps  fought side by  side against the techno--barbarians  that would not bend their knee to  them.

“There hasn’t been any Ligo Aetos in Twenty Five years.  No Sisters of Silence either.” Valdor  stated.

“Impossible.” the Emperor of Mankind.   He bit his lip and studied the empty sleeve where his arm was.

“You always thought humanity had a destiny my King.  Maybe you  were wrong.  Maybe humanity was a mistake.”

“What a disappointment you’ve become.” the Emperor said.  

“When I found you  you  were pursuing a career as a blade for service in the Khatun of the Caucuss Step’s horde.  You were little better than an ork.  But I took you in.  Turned you into something better.  Gave you  a family.”

“They’re gone now.” Valdor said barely holding back  the snarl that almost escaped his lips.

Valdor turned to  leave.

“Constantin, what did you do?” the Emperor asked.

“Answer me! I command it! Why are we here?  Is Arlette safe?  Where’s Malcador and Jenetia? Where are Rogal and Sanguinius? Where’s Jaghati?   Answer me Janus! ” .

Valdor opened the door.

“Not even an Eldar should have to live like this! Drugged and kept in a tank!”

“It’s for your own good!” Valdor snapped.  The anger he was holding back  pouring into  the five words that left his chapped lips.

“No it’s not! You’re waiting for me to die!  You betrayed me like Horus did!” The Emperor wailed.

The door slammed shut and the Master of Mankind was left alone to babble in  a million forgotten tongues, His only company the ghosts of a million lives.

The passing train  shook the glass of whiskey on the desk.   Valdor ignored it, for he was occupied with  pulling out one of his claws that had failed to  fully extend.   Blood dripped from the adamantium talon to  mix with blood that had stained the floor yesterday.  He grunted in pain as it finally fully extended.

Valdor studied the claw for a minute.  Than the former Custodes stared at  Veracity.  The beautiful silver greatsword was the only clean thing in the room.  It was the only thing Valdor had taken with him when he fled the Imperial Palace with Arlette and the Emperor.   

What would you  think of us now Jen?  Our King, now a paraplegic madman whose power could wipe out everyone on the Throneworld.  Arlette, once the woman who  ruled alongside the Master of Mankind, now playing nursemaid?  What would you think of me? The Captain-General of the Legio Custodes, The sun to your moon?  Now a drunk, dying old man?   What would you think of the Imperium you helped build?  Guilliman hasn’t ruined it yet but he will.

By all the forgotten God’s and Goddesses why  does a piece of grox-shit like me draw breath while your bones lie cold and left to rot by  the Ultramarines?

Constantin Valdor fell asleep that night the same way  he always did.  Half-drunk and in indescribable emotional and physical pain.

[templarhalo]

Endryd Harr: The Riven Hound Chapter 5

This is long overdue,  but I hope it was worth the wait.   This fic will probably be done by the end of the year. along with my over fic, The Master of the Mankind’s  Return

Anway, enjoy comment, feel free to message me!

The halls of the Dauntless Class Light Cruiser Hyacinth were a hunting ground.

The ship belonged to the 239th Company of the Emperor’s Children.  They had been tasked by their beloved primarch to hunt down and destroy the Shattered Legions.  Unfortunately for them, the Hyacinth suffered from a warp drive failure and had to drop back into real space for repairs.  

And by the grace of the Emperor they were in the range of the Cicatrices’ Tyrannis’ guns.  

The Hyacinth's engines were crippled by lance fire.  Caestus Assault Rams had embedded themselves in its hull like maggots.

The 239th Company had believed themselves to be hunters.

But now the truth had been revealed, they were not the hunter.

They were the prey.

The Blade of the Hearth was wedged deep in the Emperor’s Children’s throat.  The Mark IV Power Armor clad figure made a gasping sound

With a grunt of effort Vesta removed her blade from the dead Space Marine.

The Emperor's Children’s throat was scorched black by the blade’s power field.  The Blade of the Hearth was a magnificent sword; capable of parting armor and flesh with ease   Vesta shook liquid ceramite off the blade.  It sizzled to the deck.

She turned and watched Haar destroy the upper torso of the Hyacinth's Captain;   The IIIrd’s legionnaire’s Charnabal Saber was buried deep inside his torso.

Boian, Kal Jakar, and the Marauder Squad that had teleported in with   them carved into the remaining Emperor’s Children.  She was briefly reminded of the eagles and wolves her mother used when she went hunting.

Hunting dogs indeed, Vesta thought as the Blackshields slaughtered the remaining Emperor’s children.   

Endryd Haar pulled the Charnabal Saber out of his chest with a wet shulk sound.

That was sloppy, he thought.  Even with the Emperor’s Children’s swifter weapon Haar should have been able to dodge or block the blade.

I can’t be getting slower.  Haar thought.  There was no he could.  

He buried the thought.  Blocked out his realization.  To even consider it would be madness.

But he could still hear it in his ears.  He always heard it.  It never left him, even in his dreams or when he had lain on the surgical slab or the back of a Mastodon with his guts spilling everywhere.

He always heard thunder.

“Are we moving on Endryd?”  Vesta asked.

“Yes.”  Haar grunted.

He heard Boian and Kal bickering again, but he couldn't hear them.

All he heard was thunder.

Vesta let out a brief sigh as she bisected an IIIrd’s legionnaire’s skull

She didn't know Endryd Haar very well, but she something was bothering him.  While Vesta and the Blackshields slaughtered traitors Space Marines with vengeful glee Haar killed with a troubled expression.

She made a note to ask him about it later.  Right now her biggest priority was finding another third legionnaire to kill.

An hour later, they were on the Tyrannis’ bridge observing the looting of fuel and supplies from the captured ship.  The Hyacinth was a fine catch.  Not only did they gain the salvage in Power Armor and Wargear from the Emperor’s Children, but they could strip the ship to its keel for resources.  Another prize, although one Harr did not expect or care for was a hold full of prisoners.  Most were civilians, but they were a few Imperial Army soldiers and Administratum personal as well.  Many of them had agreed to serve as crew members and bondsman, while others wished simply for safety from the IIIrd’s legion and wanted to get as far away from the traitors as possible.  Some of them feared the Blackshields just as much as they did the Emperor’s Children.

Vesta was disappointed none of those that they had liberated had been from her homeworld.  Still it was good to sate her desire for vengeance while saving lives.

“How long will it take to salvage the ship?”  Vesta asked.  

“Another four hours minimum, “Ella said.  Vesta could tell the Captain was on edge, and truth be told, she was too, the Tyrannis would be vulnerable as the Blackshields stripped the captured destroyer down to its keel.

Vesta sighed, Haar’s well-hidden unease aside, things were looking up.

And that’s when things went terribly wrong for her.  At least for a while, then it went terribly wrong for the traitors, but we’ll get to that later dear reader.

“My Lord, I’ve got something on the sensors- “the bridge crew member

“Spit it out boy” Boian said

“I think it’s a ship.” the mortal crewman said  

It was a ship.  Another Dauntless Class Cruiser bearing the colors of the traitorous Emperor's Children

She came in fast and hard, her torpedo’s striking the Tyrannis’s prow.  She raked the Tyrannis flank with lances, macrocannon shells and boarding torpedoes.

“Seven Hells!”  Ella cursed.

“I see we’ve been boarded.”  Kal Jakar said, placing his helm on

Harr growled like a bear “ Chaplain rally  the fangs, and cannon fodder  Boian, find Karnathus and ready a counter boarding party  I won’t be losing my ship today .

“You mean my ship.”  Ella said

“Our ship, our home, and our vessel of vengeance whatever you want to call it.”  Haar snarled as he drew his pistol

“Stay by my side little heiress, I’m not letting those fracking peacocks storm my bridge without losing their shriveled up excuses for cocks.”  Haar growled.

“Oh Master of Mankind, please let us be boarded by Word Bearers next time.”  Kal Jakar said with a sigh as he and Boian sprinted out of the bridge

“Oh Master of Mankind don’t have us be boarded again.”  Ella snapped back as she gunned her chainsword.

The bitter humor disappeared as the flash of teleportation filled the bridge.

An Apothecary of the Emperor’s Children flanked by two Phoenix Guard Terminators and five Palatine Blades appeared.

Haar cursed.  He knew this Apothecary.

‘Endryd Haar!  You have something that belongs to me.  Return my property or everyone on this ship will die a painful death.”  Fabius Bile said in an oddly polite tone.

Bile’s “Property” snarled like a she-wolf and made her opinion known with a digi-melta and her Volkite serpenta.  Both the Phoenix guards crumpled, their torsos incinerated and blackened.

One of the Palatine Blade’s drew a bolt pistol.

‘No, you lout, I need the girl alive!”  Bile snapped as he drew his drew his needle pistol.

The five Astartes unsheathed their swords and moved to circle the Blackshield, only for one of their number to suddenly scream as a Plasma Pistol melted half his face off, his handsome features flaking away from the compressed fury of a sun.  A second bolt ended his misery Haar smiled

“Get the frack off my ship.”  Ella snarled.

Haar admired the flag captain’s defiance, but she was more useful to him alive than dead.  He raised his own pistol but barely had time to get a shot off before they Emperor’s Children encircled him.  Haar shattered the torso of one Palatine Blade, only to receive a blade through his back and a sword through his front.  The first blade had pierced his primary heart, the that had plunged through is back was only inches away from his secondary heart  Haar snarled, even if both those blades had pierced his hearts it would have taken more than that to kill him.

The third surviving Emperor’s Children raised his sword for a coup de grace only to lose his sword to the blade of the Hearth.  The Emperor’s Child yelled like a dog.  He went for his combat knife attached to his belt, only to have Ella’s chainsword dig itself into his face.

Haar brought his power fist down, shattering the two blades that had dug into his flesh.  He lunged forward and obliterated the upper body of the Palatine blade with a punch.  Haar than pivoted and blasted a hole in the torso of the final palatine blade.

Than a needle punched through his head.  He staggered his vision blurring, his lungs suddenly on fire and his body suddenly very heavy.  He watched ass Vesta saw him slump to the deck He watched another needle punch through her neck, watched as Fabius scooped up the unconscious girl.

The Thunder drowned out the curses of the flag captain as Fabius Bile teleported away with his prize.

Vesta awoke to her own screams.  A needle had been jammed into her arm, and withdrew quickly.  She was strapped to a table.  Her wrists and legs bound by thick leather straps that barely had any give in them.

“You know everyone finds a woman’s screams so annoying, but I take equal pleasure in a woman's screams as much as I do a man’s.”  Fabius Bile said.

“How egalitarian of you.”  Vesta said sullenly.

‘I would offer you a drink, but you are underage.”   

“Your legion betrayed the Emperor and slaughtered billions, yet you’re worried about law forbidding underage drinking?”  Vesta snarled incredulously.  She took a look around the chamber, at the abominations squirming in tubes filled with vile green liquid and the various medical implements and esoteric equipment

“Just because one breaks one oaths does not mean ones abandons common decency. “  The mad man said with a cultured chuckle.  “Just ask those Blackshields of yours.”

Vesta felt her choler rise than collapse.  The Fangs,   Flag-Captain Thyln, kind old Philone, They were all dead, and she was alone again.

“What do you want with me?”  She asked

Fabius stared at her with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Officially, you’re to be the first candidate in a new type of Gene-seed, another weapon in Horus’s arsenal for his temper tantrum.  But that would be such a waste of your genes.  You are young, strong, and believe it or not my dear I am actually starting to take a liking to you.  That’s something that cannot be said for most of my test subjects.”

“I have such plans for you Vesta Augustus.  Many centuries from now, your name will be praised as the mother of a new race of men.  “Fabius Bile said with a grin.

“That won’t be for five years my dear, but don’t worry I have plenty of tests to fill the time. “  Bile said.

He picked up a scalpel.

“Forgive my enthusiasm, Lady Augustus, but I feel a bit of boyish excitement coming over me.”

[templarhalo]

Endryd Haar: The Riven Hound Chapter 4

Endryd Harr hated dreaming.

Sometimes his dreams were enjoyable, the early days of the Great Crusade, before Angron, before the Galaxy caught fire and he blackened his armor.

But most of the time his dreams were nightmares.  Memories he could never forget.   The first time he laid eyes on his gene-father.   Him and his Fangs, lost in the void beyond the edge of the Imperium, abandoned by an uncaring sire.   The first time he killed one of his traitorous kinsmen, when he still wore the bloodstained white and blue of the World Eaters.  

This dream was one he had been in before.  A black void filled with nothing but corpses, human and Astartes.alike.  .

A red creature, a species of xenos he didn’t recognize sat on a throne of skulls.  A black axe was propped up  next to the throne.

He offered him a skull.

“What do you want me to do with that xenos?” he asked.

The creature laughed and put the skull back into its throne.

It offered another one to him, and Endryd somehow knew that skull was  his gene-father’s.  

“No thanks, I’ll take his skull myself.”  Haar replied.

This was the fourth told time he had told the creature that.

The creature studied Haar.

Haar hated making eye contact with this creature.  The creature's eyes were black, it made him feel like he was staring down a bull about to charge him,

“I’m leaving now.” Haar said.

He awoke with a snarl.   Every dream he awoke from made him feel like he had just recovered from being lost to the Nails that no longer pulsed inside his skull.  He rose from his cot and walked over to his Power Armor.  He might as well wreck some combat servitors and work  the anger out.

The combat servitor collapsed with  a screech  and a shower of sparks.   Vesta panted, she had sparred against combat servitors before, but the ones used by the Legiones Astartes,  even on  the lowest difficult were quite the challenge.

A challenge Vesta enjoyed.  The Blade of the Hearth was a remarkable weapon.   Unlike most Power Weapons Vesta had seen, the Blade of the Hearth’s power field was not blue crackling lightning that wreathed it’s leaf shaped blade,but a soft orange glow that occasionally sparked.     Vesta shifted her shoulders, she had never worn Power Armor before, but she quickly adjusted.   As for her bladework, she had experimented with what kind of melee weapon would suit her since she was 10.   She lacked her brother’s natural talent with  the long arming sword, but a shorter blade like the Albian Power Gladius suited her more practical and pragmatic style.  

She turned and saw  Haar in his Power Armor.  “I guess I’m not the only one who can’t sleep.” She greeted. “You’re right.” Haar replied.   “Nightmares?” She asked.   “Yes.” Haar said.  Vesta sat on  a bench sized for a Space Marine and watched as Haar dismantled some of the combat servitor’s Vesta hadn’t destroyed with his Power Fist.   This continued  for about five minutes, and then Haar paused, and ordered the remaining combat servitors to  be shut down.   He than sat down next to Vesta.  

“So how’ve you been?” Haar asked,  “That’s how you start a conversation?” Vesta said with  a smile.   “Most of the time.” Haar said.  Vesta sensed that he was making a sincere effort to be kind, and trying to take his mind off of something.  “I’m doing fine.  I saw the Imperial Palace and met the Emperor’s own Equerry.  That was a pretty good birthday present.  I’ve gotten better with my bladework, and I’m alive, so  that’s good.”   “For Blackshields, being alive is always good.”  Haar said. He paused, and then his eyes lit up.  “I was unaware it was your birthday, why didn’t you say anything?”   Haar saw a flash of emotional pain across the young woman’s face.  “I didn’t want to  bother you, and like  I said, I saw the Imperial Palace, I met the Emperor’s Equerry, and I have some shiny new wargear, that’s good enough for me.”

Silence passed between them

“Endryd, how exactly did you wind up working directly for the Emperor’s Equerry?”

“When my command and I were betrayed by our brothers, I swore a death oath to  atone for my Legion’s crimes.  I blackened my armor and hunted my former kinsman.  After this one boarding action  near Segmentum Solar, we ran in Malcador himself.  He offered me a position as one of his Knights-Errant.”

“What did you tell him?” Vesta asked.

“I told him to take his offer and shove it up his pruny old ass. If I was going to die, I was going to  do it on my own terms for the brothers and sisters who died at the hands of those they once fought alongside..  Not for the Emperor who let a madman who should have been mercy-killed lead my Legion.  Not for an Imperium that saw us as killing machines, and certainly not for Malcador Fracking Sigillite.  The only use I have for a bureaucrat like Malcador is as an improvised melee weapon.  I would have wrung the old bastard by his skinny neck for his arrogant attitude, Regent of Terra or not.   But Lady Arlette herself was there and decided to compromise.   The Sigillite would find a good suicide mission and point us in the direction, and she would handle the rest.”

Vesta laughed, “ My father had similar  sentiments about politicians, As did my grandfather. That’s how he want from a farmer to an Imperial Governor when the Emperor and the Legiones Astartes came.  But why blacken your armor when you could wear your old Legion colors before your legion was reunited with your primarch?”

“Because the Twelfth Legion will go down in history as traitors and butchers, madman who lusted for blood and skulls.  Because the second I laid my eyes on our Primarch  the second our own Apothecaries started hammering the Nails in  our skulls, the second a legionnaire killed one of his squadmates when he lost himself to those damn  things, the Twelfth Legion was dead.  Boian may think otherwise, but our Legion will never be redeemed.”

Vesta let out a  thoughtful hum.

“So what will you do after?”

“After what?” Haar asked.

“After Horus and his ilk are defeated?” Aella asked.

“I don’t plan on surviving this war Vesta.  What could I do besides fight?  Plow a field? Bake a cake?”

“Come live on Byzas Longa,   take up knitting or a hobby besides ripping out spinal cords and kneecapping people.”

Haar chuckled.

“And what will you do when Horus hangs from the Traitor’s Gibbet?”

“ Before I lost my family, I had plenty of options. My father said if I proved myself, I could secure a commission in the Solar Auxilla, or a Warrant of Trade if I didn’t want to  succeed him.  But now that they’re gone, the only option I have left is to  fight until every last one of Horus’  bastards are dead .  Then I’m going home and I'm taking my world back.  You saw all the refugees on Terra, when this war is over plenty of people will need homes. “

“If it makes you feel any better, that Apothecary  is enjoying to company of the Silent Sisterhood  and the World Eaters who slaughtered your people are all dead.”

“It does. It’s good to know that there’s some justice in the galaxy gone mad.”  Vesta said softly.

Haar didn’t reply.   

A calm silence filled the air.   A minute or two passed, and then the heiress of a dead world  bid him good night,

Haar stayed there for a while, his mind not quite shutting down and resting, but not quite awake.

He surveyed the destroyed servitors and returned to his own quarters.

Sleep eluded him like an Alpha legionnaire for a while, but it found him an hour later.

He did not suffer anymore nightmares that night.  The days ahead would not give him time to  sleep.