Warfleet 49 pulled out of the orbit of Skylar IV, the high-command pleased, with congratulations all around for another planet brought into Full Compliance. The native populace had been relatively in favor of being brought back in to the fold, and once their circumspect pacifist-resistance leaders had been subjugated by a show of force from the Imperials Fists, compliance had been assured.
New orders already received, the massive transports of the Warfleet spun up their drives and engaged the huge shields that would protect them as they traversed The Warp--the unknown and unknowable chaotic waste that was as loathsome to behold as it was necessary for transit across the universe.
Brother-Sergeant Aterro's transport had just opened its own warp-gate when something went horribly wrong. A second, parallel gate opened on top of its primary gate--an impossibility that the cognitors responsible for navigation could neither comprehend nor compensate for. The precious warp-shields were compromised, allowing for the demonic emotions-made-manifest to enter the ship. Doom could only follow.
The last thing he remembered was reaching for his sword.
He regained consciousness in an open sun-drenched field, laying on a field of good green grass across from an emerald forest glen.
Taking stock of his surroundings, he saw his equipment was utterly ruined--no doubt it made the ultimate sacrifice to save his life when he crashed here...but where was here?
He strode with purpose to water, and then to a town. The people--for they resembled himself in form and function--told him the impossible.
He was on Earth.
But this was not his beloved Terra.
Terra, home of The Emperor, was a massive city-state, ruled by the Earth Council, home to trillions of loyal Imperial citizens that work the continent-sized forges to feed and supply the supreme war effort.
This Terra was hardly touched. Yes, it had cities, and it had people, but greenery of this size was unknown.
He spoke to more people and become convinced that he was not mad. Indeed, there was only one explanation--he was sent back in time. This too seemed utterly sane when he learned about space travel, or the lack thereof.
Surely he was on Terra, before The Emperor, before the Long Night, before Man had conquered the stars. Too, some magnificent Xeno threat was trying to crush the great Imperium before it got started. And, The Emperor, in his Penultimate wisdom, had found a way to send him back, a lone soldier of his finest, was back here, to save these wayward humans and catapult them into the stars.
He learned of the Confederated States, and at first was friendly toward them. They had their own Emperor, and hated the filthy Xenos, as was proper.
But they were small men. Scrapping over their own power only for power's sake. The more he interacted with them the more he despised them and their short-sighted, narrow view. They would need to be overthrown.
In his own time he fell in with the Cyber Knights, and here he knew he was home. He enjoyed their brotherhood as he had fell in with his own legion, and he thought they were to be the instruments for humanity's ascension.
Alas, war broke out and the weakness was exposed. There were those among them that counciled neutrality. Throne save us from such men! That there should be so great a gathering of brother-warriors and they should sit by and do nothing instead of riding out and bringing all of humanity into their caring fold was unthinkable!
He called such voices Traitors, and Chaos Knights, and hot words turned to hot blood. Tolkeen fell, and he was again without home.
Inevitably his steps turned to Castle Refuge. Even if they were not so bonded as his former brothers, they at least had the right outward-looking attitude.
It would have to be enough.
