"The time has come and the Emperor Protects" waiting to see what the opening of the doors will bring us.
ΩΩΩΩΩ ΩΩΩΩΩΩ
ΩΩΩΩΩ 23ΩΩΩΩΩΩ ΩΩΩ:ΩΩ ΩΩΩ ΩΩΩΩΩ ΩΩΩΩΩ
ΩΩΩ.ΩΩΩ.ΩΩΩ
ΩΩΩΩ Ω ΩΩΩΩΩΩ ΩΩ52ΩΩΩΩ Time
As the door finishes opening, what is revealed is most unexpected.
The golden light remains, but it is not the natural illumination the Battle-Brother's initial preconceptions had perceived; there is no sun-seared, grassy sea awaiting them. No late-summer wind flowing through an endless veldt in the chamber beyond. The feeling, upon reflection, is akin to being forcibly removed from a dream of another time and another place. It is disconcerting for the Astartes, mirroring the rest of their experiences in the Omega Vault, as their superhuman senses are not accustomed to being so easily deceived.
Although their rational minds had not expected to find a verdant natural world within, knowing within themselves that such thoughts were simply preposterous, an impossibility, none of them can help but feel strangely disappointed when their assumptions are proven incorrect.
Brother Vex attempts to focus, mind opening to the Immaterium in order to project his conscious thoughts outward, but it is to no avail. He can no longer sense even the vaguest eddies of the Warp. Whatever mystical conduit allowed him to communicate with the Vault's guardian is now gone.
The Dark Angel opens his eyes and sees the chamber revealed is nothing short of awe-inspiring, but it is no natural wonder. Instead, it is blindingly gold, the perfectly smooth metallic walls suffused with a gleaming, aureate glow that forces those looking upon them to narrow their eyes. The chamber is perfectly hemispherical, roughly five meters across, a reflection in miniature of the main vault without in simplicity and austerity of decor. Despite the lack of obvious adornment, the more astute senses of Brother Hrothgar's keen vision and Brother Emeric's auger array detect something fluid; a motile, rippling sheen pulsing across the curving walls, almost invisible to the naked eye.
The center of the room is dominated by a tall, cylindrical plinth of solid, gleaming gold, nearly chest high to the Astartes. The plinth's narrow, stem-like length terminates in a wide, shallow, bowl-shaped vessel containing a placid liquid that appears as nothing less than molten gold. Radiating on upward pointing diagonals from just beneath the base of the bowl are eight, evenly-spaced golden shafts of the same pure adamantine-gold alloy, each a little over a meter and a half again in length. There is something familiar about their irregularity in shape, and the entire structure lends to the imagination the vision of an overlarge golden flower, blossoming outward, the bowl in the center its stigma, the pedestal its style, and the radiating shafts of metal its gloriously serrated petals.
"I no longer feel the immaterium. There is no way I can contact anyone at present."
Looking at the flower I slowly approach. I want to take a look at it from a top down approach. Hoping I am wrong at what symbol it may well represent.
Noticing the shimmering along the walls, I enter and take position next to the Librarian. Their is something here that is vaguely unsettling. I take an auspex reading withing the chamber, including the bowl, plinth and walls.
"Processing data, standby."
Time seems to go on forever, yet not move at all in this place. Being cut off from the Immaterium is unsettling yet a relief. Not since before my psychic power was awakened within me as a recruit on The Rock have I not heard the predatory whispers of those things that lie in the warp.
After a long pause, I speak.
"Brother's, my knowledge and studies give me no insight on what this may be. I am at a loss."
I enter everything I perceive, and what information my Battle Brothers provide me. Perhaps there is another in the Watch Station who can discern what we have experienced.
ΩΩΩΩΩ ΩΩΩΩΩΩ
ΩΩΩΩΩ 23ΩΩΩΩΩΩ ΩΩΩ:ΩΩ ΩΩΩ ΩΩΩΩΩ ΩΩΩΩΩ
ΩΩΩ.ΩΩΩ.ΩΩΩ
ΩΩΩΩ Ω ΩΩΩΩΩΩ ΩΩ52ΩΩΩΩ Time
The unsettling temporal phenomena of the Omega Vault persists, even in this golden chamber, and for the Astartes of Kill-team Umbra a pronounced feeling of dislocation persists, as their superhuman senses can only just barely perceive the bizarre truncation and extension of time around them.
The pause before Brother Vex speaks again seems an eternity to all encircling the strange, vaguely floral construct of golden mechanica.
For the Dark Angel Librarian, the protracted stretching of time serves to amplify his uneasiness and sense of bafflement about what the curious analog could possibly represent. Nothing in his lore-steeped recollection corresponds to what the device may be.
The tech-marine scans the chamber with his auspex and detects many of the same anomalous and often contradictory space-time readings he has received throughout their sojourn through the Omega Vault, but something stands apart from them when his sensor array washes over the plinth with its golden mechanica bloom and central, fluid-filled reservoir.
The oil. What sort of mechanism would require such perfect unguents?
"This is a sacred machine. The ancient Antikythera device may have been used for navigation. Tempus Aeternus, eternal time. This may explain why my internal chronometers have been faulty since entering the Vault. Postulation: this is some sort of transportation device. I suggest we each move to one of the housings that extend from the apparatus."
"Brothers, you heard what he said, let us do it."
ΩΩΩΩΩ ΩΩΩΩΩΩ
ΩΩΩΩΩ 23ΩΩΩΩΩΩ ΩΩΩ:ΩΩ ΩΩΩ ΩΩΩΩΩ ΩΩΩΩΩ
ΩΩΩ.ΩΩΩ.ΩΩΩ
ΩΩΩΩ Ω ΩΩΩΩΩΩ ΩΩ52ΩΩΩΩ Time
Kill-team Umbra advances warily toward the device until an Astartes stands within reach of each of the 'petals' save one. The eighth, conspicuously absent an attendant battle-brother, lies between Brother Emeric and Brother-Librarian Vex.
Having drawn close to the sacred machine with its curious, flower-like analogues allows the marines an opportunity to better examine just what the device may be.
ΩΩΩΩΩ ΩΩΩΩΩΩ
ΩΩΩΩΩ 23ΩΩΩΩΩΩ ΩΩΩ:ΩΩ ΩΩΩ ΩΩΩΩΩ ΩΩΩΩΩ
ΩΩΩ.ΩΩΩ.ΩΩΩ
ΩΩΩΩ Ω ΩΩΩΩΩΩ ΩΩ52ΩΩΩΩ Time
Brother Caledonii is the first among the Astartes to realize just what each of the golden petals radiating outward from the central font actually are: beautifully wrought chainswords bound in smooth, curving housings of unmarred golden adamantine. The hilt of each extends, cunningly hidden, just beneath the downward angled edge of triangularly-shaped hand-guards comprising the 'tip' of each 'leaf'.
Brother Quintus leans cautiously forward, gazing from below with his mouth parting slightly in mute awe of the relics, noticing for the first time the hundreds upon hundreds of gleaming, diamantine teeth running along the lower edge of each 'petal'.
This flower has thorns...
There is no doubt now in Brother Emeric's mind that this is a sacred font of the Omnissiah, and that arrayed in perfect radial symmetry around its slender, golden base are blessed relics, tools of war no doubt forged in his honor by the sainted Brother Enoch the Thrice-Martyred himself.
The most acute of the sensoria in his auspex array detect something else, as well. The entire plinth radiates faint electromagnetic tell-tales that he has only ever noted in the most powerful of voidship teleportariums.
The Orpheus Salient
Aurum, The Shining Plains
300.817.M41
Hour 9 System Sidereal Time
With the strange vision even now fading from his pragmatic memory, Brother Bjorn lopes up the gentle crest of another grassy hill, into the fading red-gold light of Aurum's setting sun, by his estimation almost one hundred fifty kilometers west of the capital settlement of Haistand. The tracks of the Caele's men are yet fresh, and as numerous as before, but their troubling failure to conceal their progress still unnerves him greatly. What urgency or calamity could hasten such careful warrior-hunters, most with survival instincts that would make them worthies among the scattered tribes of Fenris? A half-blind, drunken skald of the sea-going clans of his world could follow such a track.
He pauses near the crest of the hill, eyes following the signs of passage as they disperse strangely near its apex.
"Is this what we are here for, brothers? Are these what what the Vault wants us to have? Unless any of you think otherwise, I believe they are."
"I am not so certain Brother..."
My face hidden in the shadows of my robe.
"While the number of blades corresponds with the number of Astrates represented earlier. It does not match who we are..."
"Why would it go in such intricate detail to denote, Space Wolf, Dark Angel, Black Templar...,
Librarian, Tech Marine...,
Yet here before us is eight finely presented chain swords. Where is the Tech Marines Axe? Where is the Force Weapon of the Librarian? Why be so specific at the beginning to be so general now?
I feel this is another clue or test. I hope you see my pattern of logic in this my Brothers."
"These are chain swords that form this pedestal to hold this oil. As to you question Brother Quintus, no I do not believe that these are for us but to allow what they are holding to stay pure. But I might be wrong, what says our Tech Marine, do you have an Idea as to what this might be used for."
Inward I think that if I had this oil for my lancea to be christened in. What would have happened?
"Is this what we are here for, brothers? Are these what what the Vault wants us to have? Unless any of you think otherwise, I believe they are."
"Brother-Leader I cogitate that we are exactly where the Vault wants us. Spectrometer reading confirm teleportation capability. Apparently we are being sent somewhere."
"While the number of blades corresponds with the number of Astrates represented earlier. It does not match who we are..."
"Why would it go in such intricate detail to denote, Space Wolf, Dark Angel, Black Templar...,
"Brother Librarian, I cannot solve the riddle you speak. I can only assure you that this sublime relic is holy and consecrated. I recognize the handiwork of none other than Saint Enoch the Thrice-Martyred. Truly we stand on sacred ground."
"These are chain swords that form this pedestal to hold this oil. As to you question Brother Quintus, no I do not believe that these are for us but to allow what they are holding to stay pure. But I might be wrong, what says our Tech Marine, do you have an Idea as to what this might be used for."
"Brother Caledonii these must be weapons borne by the mightiest of Astartes. I postulate they are here for veneration and sanctification."
ΩΩΩΩΩ ΩΩΩΩΩΩ
ΩΩΩΩΩ 23ΩΩΩΩΩΩ ΩΩΩ:ΩΩ ΩΩΩ ΩΩΩΩΩ ΩΩΩΩΩ
ΩΩΩ.ΩΩΩ.ΩΩΩ
ΩΩΩΩ Ω ΩΩΩΩΩΩ ΩΩ52ΩΩΩΩ Time
As the Battle-brothers stand in consultation, surrounding the object of their scrutiny, Brother Emeric examines the base and constituent parts of the mechanicum flower with the refined eye that only a techmarine could bring to bear.
"I concur with Brother-Librarian Vex, there is more to this puzzle than meets the eye on first glance, although what manner of test to prove our mettle this trial could possibly be, I do not know."
The Iron Snake continues to prowl around the device with a wary and cautious mien, careful not to touch anything even as he tries to examine it more closely.
The Space Wolf stalks up to the structure with a look of bafflement on his face, clearly perplexed as to why the others are so reticent to take any action.
"Is it not clear, my brothers? These here are sacred relics of the Deathwatch, our path has been guided here so that we might claim them as our own for the struggle to come. Why do you hesitate?"
The impetuous Space Wolf has an eager gleam in his eye as he looks upon the aureate blades, as if he is only restraining the urge to reach out and touch one of the hilts out of deference for his brethren and their more conservative approach.
The Orpheus Salient
Aurum, The Shining Plains
300.817.M41
Hour 9 System Sidereal Time
Brother Bjorn cannot be certain what the difference in the mingled tracks of his quarry mean, and his consternation, rare in such situations, almost costs him dearly.
Fortunately for this Wolf, his ever cautious habits, born of many decades of experience and repetition of his art, serve him well in this case. Already partially concealed along the lee of the hillside in a cluster of thick, waving, wild grasses taller than he, it is a simple matter to fall prone when the first of the Caele's warriors stealthily slink over the crest of the hill from three sides.
The six men, what can only be part of the larger band Bjorn has been tracking, creep forward in pairs, alert for danger, their hide and bone armor scarcely making a noise as they move in concert toward a point where the Space Wolf was checking their passage just moments before. Gazing about suspiciously, the fierce men, faces daubed in their peculiar warpaint and spears pointed outward, come together and begin speaking quietly with one another in their tongue, their eyes never ceasing in their search across the rolling plains for whatever has drawn their attention. The change in the tracks seems obvious now to Brother Bjorn, this half-dozen splintered off from the larger group to backtrack what they suspected might be following them. Him.
As they mutter to one another the Astartes keeps his breathing in check, grateful for the camouflage he has, but worried that as the wind shifts direction on the blustery, sun-drenched slope, something else might give him away.
"Is it not clear, my brothers? These here are sacred relics of the Deathwatch, our path has been guided here so that we might claim them as our own for the struggle to come. Why do you hesitate?"
"The Space Wolf shows good insight. There is incredibly intricate mechanisms at work. Electromagnetic trace signatures confirm this. I believe we should each take a blade-hilt and attempt to extend a chainsword."
I scan for some sort of master switch or panel, perhaps another sort of weapon or venerated icon about the machinery.
"Prepare for teleportation."
I nod to the Techmarine and place my hand on the hilt in front of me.
" I am ready."
Placing my hand on the hilt, "Brothers on three, one, two, three, pull.
The Orpheus Salient
Aurum, The Shining Plains
300.817.M41
Hour 9 System Sidereal Time
As Brother Bjorn attempts to silently crawl away through the copse of tall grass, his passage disturbs a small, burrowing saurian which scampers away from him toward the edge of the overgrowth. Miraculously for him it chooses not to scuttle out onto the open grassland, but sniffs the air instead and waits, perhaps fearful of the scent of the Caele's men so close.
There can be no doubt that at least one of the warriors heard something from with the taller grass. He motions to his fellow, and the pair divert from the others, stalking toward where Bjorn rests prone in the overgrowth. As the Space Wolf wills himself to be perfectly still, the small saurian begins to flick its tail nervously, the nictitating membranes over each eye sliding in and out.
ΩΩΩΩΩ ΩΩΩΩΩΩ
ΩΩΩΩΩ ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ ΩΩΩ:ΩΩ ΩΩΩ ΩΩΩΩΩ ΩΩΩΩΩ
ΩΩΩ.ΩΩΩ.ΩΩΩ
ΩΩΩΩ Ω ΩΩΩΩΩΩ ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ Time
The seven Battle-brother's take their respective places around Saint Enoch's curious shrine, each grasping the polished hilts of one of the extended chainsword 'petals', the eighth and final blade conspicuously missing an attendant Astartes.
Absent any other obvious mechanism of activation, the septet clench the gleaming, golden hilts in hand, attentively waiting for Brother Quintus' signal. A stillness pervades the chamber as the marines of Kill-team Umbra listen to the Ultramarine calmly counting down, and upon his mark they pull the blades as one toward their person.
From somewhere within the floral-mechanica analogue there is an audible click and each blade extends to their full length outward from the font at the center, the 'blooming' culminating with the sacred oil in the central reservoir suddenly draining, whirlpool-like, into the slender base. A deep thrumming sound, just audible to the Astartes' enhanced hearing begins to emanate from all around and the strangely shifting aureate patina of the walls appears to grow more turbulent. With no feeling of actual movement whatsoever registering among the marine's acute kinesthetic senses, they all feel as if the room begins to spin, more and more rapidly, as the outline of the golden flower expands and blurs. It is as if the Kill-team rapidly rotates around a centrally spinning hub, like a children's carousel that exists outside of time and space itself. Looking across at their fellow battle-brothers grows disconcertingly weird, as their forms begin to blur into one another as the sensation of centripetal spinning intensifies, culminating in the perception of some gestalt figure standing across from each of them, a composite ideal of their separate selves, an amalgam that over time begins to morph into a strikingly clear depiction of Saint Enoch the Thrice-Martyred.
This beatified image then flashes in a blur of Deathwatch black and golden light, and each marine feels a deep sense of dislocation, and a vertiginous disorientation that they have almost become used to during their time in the Omega Vault.
Blinking away their confusion, the sensation of the chain-blades still clutched in their hands, the battle-brothers find themselves somewhere else...
I look around to try and figure out where we are.
The Orpheus Salient
Aurum, The Shining Plains
300.817.M41
Hour 9 System Sidereal Time
Brother Bjorn, realizing there is little chance that he will not be discovered, prepares to bolt, hoping that his natural speed and enhanced endurance will allow him to elude the warriors with their more primitive weapons. Even still, he chides himself for underestimating the men of Aurum and their inherent cunning, promising that he will not do so twice.
Just before he moves however, the small saurian, still spooked by his presence, darts out into the sere grass from the taller stalks where the Space Wolf lies hidden. Moving with surprising speed, the spooked reptile shoots through the much shorter grass like a sidewinder, moving almost faster than the eye can follow.
Even Brother Bjorn is surprised when the broad-bladed spear impales the creature into the loamy earth, the saurian twitching as its tail lashes spasmodically into the ground just a few meters away. In a few short loping strides one of the closer warriors retrieves his spear, so close that the Space Wolf can smell the man's perspiration, hear his even breathing. With searching eyes, he scans the undergrowth carefully, and satisfied, rises from his haunches again, ripping the reptile from the tip of his weapon. Chuckling mirthlessly, he walks casually back to his companion, shaking the small carcass in one hand, the two now carrying on a more relaxed conversation than before in their oddly melodic tongue. There is a sense of relief in both men that Brother Bjorn heartily shares, realizing that through some twist of fate, he has remained undiscovered.
The six men form up once again soon after, and then set off at a run down the far side of the hill, likely in an effort to catch up with their brethren.
...Blinking away their confusion, the sensation of the chain-blades still clutched in their hands, the battle-brothers find themselves somewhere else...
Simultaneously I ready my bolter and take an auspex reading. Apparently, however, the residue from teleportation scrambles my internal scanning circuitry.
The Orpheus Salient
The Horizon's Pride, The Study of Diaz Lan
291.817.M41
Hour 22, Ship's Time
The golden light fades and a feeling of returning to the firmament is felt beneath the Battle-brothers feet. When they open their eyes they find themselves in a large study paneled in amber hued wood that emits a soft glow that permeates the entire room. The solidity beneath their feet is a broad floor of polished marble decorated with a mosaic of inlaid precious stone, shaped to depict a crossed rapier and broken quill. Ornate cabinets and curio cases of lustrous wood line the walls, each filled with all manner of intriguing objets d'art. Behind the Astartes is a massive, metal bulkhead door, sealed, that is reminiscent of what one would encounter on a voidship. Another open portal leads into an adjoining chamber that is clearly a library.
On a wall directly across from the disoriented members of Kill-team Umbra is the centerpiece of the room, a tall, marbled metal bas-relief comprised of swirling geometric shapes that is somehow eerily familiar, depicting a series of ever-narrowing spirals and nautiloid designs.
Set directly before the bas-relief is a wide, antiquated desk of dusky-colored, highly polished wood. It is covered in all-manner of bric-a-brac, curling scrolls, and dataslates. Behind it sits a tall, wide man of military bearing, wearing a cruxermine coat that drapes over his wide shoulders. Beneath it he is garbed in a brocaded waistcoat of olive green with silver trim, studded with golden buttons, military honors, and ribbons. The man's face is round and pale, dominated by a bulbous nose and jowly, cleft chin. Deep inset eyes like black pits of uncut obsidian study you in surprise, wreathed by bushy black eyebrows that grow nearly to his short, lank, silver hair. He has a slightly hunched posture in the tall chair, but he exudes a bearing of quiet confidence and compact power that doesn't so much as flinch at the sudden appearance of seven Adeptus Astartes clad in the black armor of the Deathwatch.
Both of his hands come up above the level of the ornate desk, one setting aside the golden plumed quill he was writing with in a non-threatening gesture.
He smiles awkwardly, a curious expression creasing his wrinkled mouth and the crows-feet limning his dark eyes.
"I am the Rogue Trader, Diaz Lan, you are aboard the Horizon's Pride, and if you serve the Deathwatch as you appear, we are met as friends and allies, so you may lower your weapons, honored Battle-brothers."
I watch as the scene unravels around me. And shake off the disorienting effects of what has transpired, and focus on what's before me. Though I am still not sure the man before me is real or illsion.
"Greeting Rogue Trader Lan. I am Brother Librarian Llyriel Vex. What system is your current destination?"
Can I feel the warp or am I still cut off?
"Lower your weapons, brothers. We are meant to be here. Let us find out why. I am Brother Devastator Quintus, and to add to Brother Vex's question, where are we now?
The Orpheus Salient
The Horizon's Pride, The Study of Diaz Lan
291.817.M41
Hour 22, Ship's Time
The rogue trader stands up slowly from behind the desk, hands still held before him as non-threateningly as possible, his posture clearly speaking to no ill-intent toward the space marines. The awe and bafflement on his features are still pronounced, as it seems the last thing he expected while toiling in his study was for seven members of the Deathwatch to materialize from thin air.
"Again, you have my welcome, honored Astartes, I am Diaz Lan, and you are aboard the Horizon's Pride, a light cruiser in service to my family's dynasty. To answer your immediate questions, Brothers Vex and Quintus, we are presently traversing the Warp just coreward of the Orpheus salient, our destination is the world of Aurum."
He shakes his head in amazement.
"If I may---though there is little doubt in my mind, overwhelmed though it may be---if you would allow me to engage my auspex without provoking a disproportionate response on your part, I would be most grateful. It will confirm for my intellect what my heart already tells me is true. One cannot be too careful when navigating the Empyrean."
The Orpheus Salient
Aurum, The Shining Plains
300.817.M41
Hour 11 System Sidereal Time
Two hours later, with no further sign that the Caele's warriors have detected his presence or slowed their pace, Brother Bjorn finds himself following the trail through the last vestiges of the broad veldt, and having more cover available as the terrain changes over to rocky badlands on the verges of one of Aurum's sparse, truncated mountain ranges, he decides to close the distance.
The men are now faint specks in the distance, moving with haste across rising hillocks of sere grass, interspersed here and there with titanic, eroded boulders that were shed from the mountains long ago.
The Space Wolf is not certain, but he is fairly sure that within one of the nearby canyons is the settlement of Grensvayl, a verdant valley near where the sluggish Espri River branches in tripartite fashion. The Adeptus Munitorum maps for Aurum that were provided to him at the outset of his long mission are for the most part hopelessly outdated, so it is almost impossible to confirm, however.
Aurum, hmm. I can see this won't go over well with the Inquisition, but it will aid Emeric and myself in our investigations...
Despite the rogue trader's promise of safety, Ferocitas feeds precise data with regard to placing a bolt round through his eye socket. I holster my weapon and speak instead.
"Greetings Diaz Lan, rogue trader and captain of the Horizon's Pride. I am Techmarine Emeric, member of the Black Templars, currently assigned to the Deathwatch of the Emperor's Ordo Xenos. Query: what information will auspex scanning yield?"
The Orpheus Salient
The Horizon's Pride, The Study of Diaz Lan
291.817.M41
Hour 22, Ship's Time
Like a man who surfaces from deep, soundless sleep to ambient noises he is long accustomed to hearing, Brother-Librarian Vex finds himself again attuned to the omnipresent feel of the Warp. It is both a relief and renewed trial following the respite of the Vault. The emanations of the Empyrean are even stronger, here in Warp transit, and there is no doubt in his mind that they are now aboard a star-faring vessel in the midst of translation.
"Greetings Diaz Lan, rogue trader and captain of the Horizon's Pride. I am Techmarine Emeric, member of the Black Templars, currently assigned to the Deathwatch of the Emperor's Ordo Xenos. Query: what information will auspex scanning yield?"
The rogue trader acknowledges the Black Templar with a respectful nod, and smiles.
"Only what you yourself just confirmed with your own scan, Brother Techmarine, that I am not some cleverly disguised machination of Warp-space, an entity or changeling-horror of daemon-kind. Consider it a necessary act for my own piece of mind and my confidence in the ship's Gellar Field."
"Now, if I may?"
If you must, but how can you deny our presence here with your own senses? We know where we are and you know we are here. You know what we are, which very few outside of The inquisition and Adeptus Astartes know.
"I can feel the Empyrean clearly Brothers. I know not the closest Way Point to contact the Watch Station."