#poor tarchus...

[beckyninja]

Pursue and Persevere

Pairing: Roboute Guilliman x FemReader

Warnings: Guilliman is a bit unhinged in this one

Description: Guilliman clings to sanity... and discovers new allies. Brother Tarchus comes to terms with his failure. And the Reader makes herself a promise.

I had so much fun fleshing out the TerraNovans in this chapter. Remember to check out my Masterlist for the previous chapters of this story, and feel free to ask to be added to/removed from the Taglist.

Also, my Asks are open if you have questions about my stories or characters, or if you'd just like to say hi.

He is more than the Avenging Son. 

The thought passed through Brother Julian Tarchus’s mind an instant before his genesire’s fist closed around his throat. 

He is Wrath Incarnate.

The Ultramarine had followed his father’s charge into the bowels of the battleship, ignoring Commander Sicarious’s infuriated orders. His armor had whined in protest as he pushed it to its limits. And yet, he had not been able to approach the Primarch’s speed.

He remembered coming upon Frenzy standing just outside a ruined doorway.  Her face, through her machine’s viewport, had the staring eyes of a corpse.

Then he’d heard the howl… and understood.

If he lived to match the years of the Chapter Master of his cousins in the Blood Angels, he would never forget that cry. Both his hearts stuttered. The blood in his veins congealed. Still, he pressed forward on stiffened legs.

The Primarch stood in the small hangar. 

Tarchus could not see his genesire’s face. Some primal part of him untouched by the brutal conditioning of an Astartes cowered.

Run. Run. RUN.

He would not. Could not.

“My Lord?”

The massive form turned. Eyes like blue lightning scorched his soul. A blur of movement, and fingers of adamantine dug into his flesh.

“She is gone.”

The words cut deeper than any blade. As Tarchus looked into the eyes of the demigod whose genes he carried, something within withered.

“You failed.”

The Ultramarine’s knees buckled. Only the impossible strength of the Primarch held him upright. Then, the fingers released and he fell.

Through a haze of shame, he heard the Commander’s shouts. The pounding of boots against metal. His brothers burst into the hangar, weapons ready, only to freeze at the sight of their Lord. Tarchus heard a dozen lungs suddenly fight for breath.

“Lord Guilliman,” Commander Sicarious sounded as though he spoke through a locked jaw, “what are your-”

“My Lady is alive, and in the hands of our enemy.” Humanity veiled the Primarch’s true nature once more. “He has fled with her like the craven he is. We will withdraw to the Macragge’s Honor and pursue.”

“My Lord, the remainder of the fleet back in Imperial space will be awaiting news. What-”

“Have the astropaths send what messages you deem appropriate. I care not.”

“Lord Guilliman-”

The veil tore. “I care not.”

Silence. Tarchus let his gaze drop to the floor.

A deep breath. “Have Captain Takahashi meet me upon our return. This ship, and whatever crew is wise enough to surrender, now belong to her.”

“And those who prove unwise?” The Commander growled.

“I have no mercy to spare for fools.”

The clash of ceramite on ceramite. “Understood, my Lord!” Hesitation. “And what of Brother-”

“He remains here. Until I see my Lady’s face again, I will not see his.” 

“...understood, my Lord.”

Tarchus kept his eyes on the floor until the pounding of sabatons faded into the distance. His chest felt as if he were once more trapped beneath that pile of scrap.

Useless. 

He’d sworn to free you.

Oathbreaker.

He’d been named your protector.

Failure.

“Big Guy?”

He paid no regard to the approach of the TerraNovan lieutenant and her strange machine. Hydraulics creaked. He heard the hiss of escaping air, then a soft grunt as baseline feet hit the floor.

“Hey, you alright?” The ghost of a hand on his forearm.

“You dare.” Lurching to his feet, he sent her stumbling backward. “I am an Ultramarine, a Warrior of the God-Emperor!”

He loomed over her. Her heartbeat pounded wildly within her chest, and yet, she did not retreat. Tiny fists clenched at her side. Dark eyes narrowed.

“Yeah, I fucking know.” She snarled up at him. “And you just got your ass chewed by… I’m not sure what He is. Except fucking terrifying!” 

To his utter bemusement, she then proceeded to jab a bloodied finger at his stomach. “And I’m asking if you’re fucking alright!”

Tarchus blinked down at her. Unfamiliar emotions flared through him.

My genesire rejected me. My brothers left me to my shame. And yet this woman… this tiny, feral creature….

“No.”

“No?”

“I am not… alright.” He forced the words out, only half-understanding why he spoke at all. “I am dishonored. A… failure.”

“Yeah? Join the club.” She snorted. “Ain’t many people more intimately acquainted with fucking up than me, Big Guy. You’re not the only one who decided not to go straight after the Princess.”

He huffed a burst of air through his nose. “You followed my directives.”

“Do I seem like the kind of person who follows fucking orders?” Her voice dropped to a mutter as she ran a hand through sweat-stiffened hair. “The one time I decide to play the good little soldier….”

“The blame is mine.”

“Fine. Take it then. But quit moping.”

The audacity…. “I do not ‘mope’.”

“Suuuuure.” She rolled her eyes. “Look, I’m just trying to say, the Princess is fucking alive. And as long as she stays that way, we haven’t failed. Doesn’t matter what that terrifying tower of pure fuck no says.” Once again, the finger jabbed at his midsection. “You and I still have a shot at redemption.”

In spite of everything, Tarchus felt a corner of his mouth tip upward. “And how do you propose we accomplish that?”

The half-mad grin returned. “Didn’t you hear the man, er, Primarch? We’re gonna run Vicky down. And whatever he’s got in store for us, be it mercs or Giant Fucking Space Bugs, we’re gonna grind their asses into bloody paste, not to mention rescue a Princess.”

She jerked a thumb toward the shattered doorway. “Now, I’m heading up to the Bridge to meet our new Captain. I heard she’s a real Ice Bitch, that true?”

“That is an accurate description.”

“Good. We’re gonna need someone like that to get this hulk in fighting shape again. C’mon.”

Tarchus watched her vault back into her machine, surprised to realize her words had driven away the cold despair he’d felt mere moments before.

I will restore my honor and succour the Lady. By the Emperor, I vow it!

“Hey, Big Guy!”

He glanced over to see the Lieutenant grinning at him through her machine’s viewport. 

“Bet I stomp more bugs than you!”

He pressed his helm over his face to hide an answering smile.

***

Roboute Guilliman did not smile. One image replayed in his superhuman mind over and over again, as clear as when he’d first witnessed it.

You. Alive.

Part of him could not believe it. This universe did not return the dead. Fate did not give second chances. Light, once extinguished, remained so.

But she is alive!

He envisioned each detail like a painter admiring his masterpiece. Your soft skin, your shining hair, your bright eyes. The way your lips formed his name. 

“Roboute!”

A groan tore from his chest. He sensed the concerned glances of his genesons but couldn’t bring himself to care.

The hope in that cry, the plea. 

And then the anguish.

More details clawed their way to the forefront of his eidetic memory. The mottled bruises on your skin, the cuts. Each one a violation bordering on blasphemy. Signs that someone had dared inflict pain upon you. 

Someone. Him.

His snarl sent an icy current of fear through the Command Center.

The cretin. The imbecile. The invertebrate masquerading as a man. He’d touched you. He’d had the gall to lay hands upon his light, his hope, the one who made life bearable. And more than hands.

The primal creature lurking within his inhuman soul writhed in helpless fury.

She is mine.

Mine.

Mine.

“Mine.”

“My Lord?” 

Guilliman turned toward the Commander, reading the uncertainty in his expression. “Do you think me mad, Sicarious?”

“I…”

He chuckled, an unpleasant sound even to his own ears. “Perhaps I am. It matters not.” Turning back, he leaned over the holographic star chart. “What news from the Captain?”

The Commander snapped to attention. “All opposition onboard The Predator has ceased. It appears many of the crew were functionally slaves, captured in various piratical actions, and were eager to swear loyalty. With the addition of the remaining crew from the Captain’s previous ship, repairs to The Predator’s engines are already well underway.”

The Commander continued, relating projected timelines for completion, status of multiple shipboard systems, armament reports, etc. All the while, Guilliman’s gaze zeroed in on a single world shown on the chart. His instincts howled to be underway, even if it meant leaving the damaged TerraNovan battleship behind. 

However, despite what Cato may think, I am not entirely devoid of reason.

If Tyranids did indeed lay in wait for them, they would need every bit of firepower at their disposal.

He shook his head.

If Victor truly believes himself allied with those horrors, then he is the madman, not I.

A madman who held you in his clutches.

Again, the looping image of you being dragged into the ship… the bastard’s mouth savaging your delicate lips… stealing what belonged only to him. For a moment, Guilliman entertained a vicious fantasy of playing the Night Lord and peeling Victor’s face from his skull while he screamed.

I would lay it at your feet, and then take you before his still-living eyes, letting the last thing he hears be your voice screaming my name-

He grit his teeth and let his head fall forward between his shoulders, breath coming in hissing gasps.

By the Throne, what have you done to me, my love?

“Multiple contacts exiting the Warp!”

Everything snapped back into focus. “Hostiles?”

“Unknown, my Lord.” The baseline crewmember fiddled with his console. “Several appear similar to the TerraNovan warships we’ve encountered, many however…,” a pause, accompanied by the clacking of keys, “appear to be civilian?”

A vox operator called out next. “Hail from Captain Takahashi, my Lord!”

“Patch her through.”

The star chart vanished, replaced by the quivering image of the TerraNovan Captain. “Lord Guilliman, do not fire upon the approaching vessels.”

He stared into her bloodshot eyes. “Explain, Captain.”

To his surprise, she smiled. “The Lady Heir put out a call to arms, my Lord. This is the answer.” 

The next hours could only be described as organized chaos as Imperial vox operators and TerraNovan communications officers struggled to bring order to what was quickly becoming a ragtag fleet.

Guilliman stood in the midst of it all, listening to the sheer variety of hails.

Some military.

“This is the cruiser, New Sydney, of the loyal TerraNovan Navy. Prepared to enter fleet formation.”

“This is troop transport, Raed, loyal to the Lady Heir. Damaged in the battle over Xin Beijing, but we are warriors and, by the Light, we will fight!”

“Battleship Eko Tuntun. Three of our engines are gone, we are slow. But we are here.”

Some decidedly less so.

“Holy shit! The Imps are here! Uh, yeah, this is the ore hauler Lucky Strike. Not much in the way of weapons, but we’ll do what we can.”

“This is prison transport Tapasya, from the Zeta penal mining colony, Colonel Samarth Gurung, formerly of Her Majesty's 3rd Rifles, commanding. We are the unjustly accused. We will fight for the Matron Uncrowned… and for her allies.”

And still more came. Naval ships. Merchants. Smugglers. Pirates. Voidships of more sizes and shapes than he had seen since his awakening placed themselves under Captain Takahashi’s command.

“My Lord,” Sicarious groused, “surely this… fleet… should report to you!”

“They do not know me, Cato. To them, the entire Imperium is an unknown entity. Perhaps to be feared. We will earn their trust, not force their compliance.”

His sons did not understand. He hoped, someday, to change that. In the meantime, he watched the TerraNovans come to their Lady’s call. His mind calculated troop strengths, total armaments, potential strategies. The endless theoreticals and practicals calmed the snarling beast within… for the moment. 

“Another hail from Captain Takahashi, my Lord.”

This time, the Captain did not smile. “I’ve received a transmission from the latest voidship to arrive, Lord Guilliman. He requests to speak with you directly.” She hesitated. “I believe you should hear him.”

“Very well.”

A young man appeared on the display. Gaunt, spectacled, and leaning heavily upon a cane.

“Lord Guilliman,” he whispered hoarsely, “my name is Conrad, Prince of TerraNova. I believe you’ve met my cousins.”

***

You hadn’t seen Victor for hours, and thanked the Light for it. 

Tossed in a half-lighted storage closet like unwanted baggage, you curled upon the floor and replayed the day’s events in your mind. Or had it been multiple days? You didn’t know.

So much fear. So much death. Some at your hand.

In the silence, you allowed yourself to grieve. And, when the tears stopped, to rejoice.

When he burst into the hangar like the vengeful god many say he is, I couldn’t breathe!

All else had faded away. You hadn’t felt the ache of your abused body, Victor’s noxious presence, or the terror that had dogged your every step. Only him.

Bloodstained and brutal and beautiful. A hero out of legend, come for you.

Oh, the look in his eyes…!

If you’d entertained any doubts before, you had none now. Roboute had looked at you like he’d shatter worlds to have you, shatter the very stars themselves. And you believed he could.

All too briefly.

You wished you’d bitten Victor when he kissed you. Or, rather, when he made the attempt. You knew what a kiss should be. Your cousin’s clumsy mauling didn’t compare. And yet you’d simply let him do as he pleased with you. 

As you had so many times since your grandmother took you.

I could make excuses. Too tired. Too overwhelmed. Too weak. Too frightened.

No. More. In the frigid darkness of the cramped closet, you whispered a Vow.

“Never again will I be a passive participant in my own life. Light guide me and make it so!”

You would wait. You would watch. You would play the role your cousin expected: timid and broken.

But you would find a way out, a way back to the only man who’d ever truly seen you, who you loved and who loved you with an intensity that set you aflame. Side by side, you would purge the evil your cousin had nurtured.

"I will be the leader our people believe I am, Victor. And, before Roboute kills you, I will make sure you know it.”

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[iloveoutlinesiswear]

Yes! Oh, I do love a stoic love-afflicted man. Poor Tarchus. Space Marines falling in love will always be a drug.

To War

Pairing: Roboute Guilliman x FemReader

Warnings: Nothing much in this one.

The assault on Victor's stronghold begins.

Find the previous parts of this series on my Masterlist. Comment and ask to be added to/removed from my Taglist. And remember, my Asks and DMs are always open!

“Missile launch!”

Standing resolute in the Command Center of the Macragge’s Honor, Guilliman didn’t hesitate. “Bring the fleet into Formatio Scutum.”

Shield Formation. Let us now see what TerraNovan commanders are worth.

He only had to look out the viewports to see the two largest voidships in his ragtag fleet lumber into position. The former mercenary flagship Predator on his right. The scarred TerraNovan battleship Eko Tuntun on his left. His keen eyes picked up the mirage-like shimmer flickering over their hulls.

Increased power to the shields. As we discussed. 

A grim smile curved his lips. It seemed Admiral Takahashi was taking well to her new command. His eyes flicked to the Eko Tuntun, remembering the lean face of its commander. 

Captain Eze is also proving competent.

The first of the missiles impacted mere moments after the three behemoths achieved formation. Burst of iridescent bio-incendiaries lit the void, but the ships’ combined shields held. 

“Have the TerraNovan cogitators-” he paused, “...computers… located the launch sites?”

A burst of vox static. “Affirmative, my Lord! Shall I give them the order to- they are launching counterstrikes!”

If only more Imperial naval commanders showed such initiative.

Numerous baseline crewmembers gasped as beams of white light streaked from the two TerraNovan ships to the planet below. Even Guilliman spared a fraction of a second to marvel at the great energy weapons, capable of pinpointing and vaporizing single buildings from orbit. With minimal collateral damage.

Within his gauntlets, his fingers twitched.

Theoretical: that bastard Victor has proven he wants you alive. Practical: he would not keep you near potential targets.

You are not there.

He willed it to be so.

“My Lord! Incoming transmission from the planet!”

At his side Commander Sicarious growled. “They wish to surrender so soon?”

Guilliman scowled. “You know well that nothing is ever so easy. Patch the message through.”

A long burst of static, then…. 

“Roboute?”

His hearts stopped. The last time he’d heard that voice, it had been screaming for help he’d failed to provide. In two strides he crossed the deck and stood before the vox terminal. The operator squeaked and scrambled out of her seat, ceding control to the looming Primarch.

“My Love.” He poured every iota of the anguished devotion that had torn through his restraint and reason into the words. “I am here. I have come for you.”

***

You could not have stopped your tears even if you tried. They carved paths through the grime on your cheeks, salt stinging half-healed abrasions. Beside you, Listener reached out and laid a gentle hand on your arm. No voice murmured reassurance in your mind, but you felt strengthened nonetheless.

Still, all that managed to force its way past the lump in your throat was, “Roboute.”

In all the time since your abduction, you’d been focused on the immediate. On survival. You’d only allowed yourself brief moments of melancholy memory. But now, standing here before this transmitter, in this warren of a military base, with explosions sounding in the distance and shaking dirt from the ceiling, you finally let yourself feel.

To know he’s here… to know he’s come for me… that it’s all almost over….

“My Love?” The impossibly deep voice on the other end of the transmission grew urgent. “Are you well? Are you safe?”

You closed your eyes. “I am as well as I can be.”

In a few halting sentences, you explained your situation. Your surroundings. The allies you’d found against all odds.

“You should speak to Captain Antoine, Roboute. I will call-”

“No.”

Despite coming from orbit far above the world you stood upon, the command sent electricity jolting through your nervous system. Even the imperturbable Listener flinched and backed away.

“Do not go.”

Something primal within you responded. “I won’t, beloved. I’m here.”

A sound that might have been panting rumbled through the speaker.

“Roboute-”

“Forgive me… for not reaching you before.”

You melted. “Oh, Roboute. I never-”

“I should have been better. I will be better. I will drown this planet in blood until I hold you in my arms again.”

His ferocity should have frightened you. Instead, you felt heat ignite in your lower belly. Your hands trembled.

“I will be waiting for you.”

“Yes.” A long, shuddering breath. “I will speak to your Captain. Remain near.”

“Always.”

When you turned, Captain Antoine stood behind you. He didn’t meet your eyes, a dark flush on his cheeks, one hand tugging at his mustache. Next to him, Listener gave another of her enigmatic smiles.

“I took the liberty of summoning him while you spoke with your intended.” She murmured.

You nodded your thanks, feeling your own cheeks heat at the memory of what they’d both likely overheard. “Your future Patron wishes to speak with you, Captain.”

He cleared his throat, still avoiding your gaze. “Yes, ma’am.”

As he took your place at the transmitter, you pressed your hands over your racing heart.

By the Light, I ache for him. Soon.

In the distance, the explosions continued.

But not yet.

***

“Next magazine, Big Guy!”

Tarchus lifted the cylinder of ammunition with minimal effort, loading it into the heavy gun now mounted to the mech’s left arm. In the cockpit, Frenzy jabbed a button. Machinery whined and the multi-barrels spun.

“Aaaand that’s the last of the calibrations done.” A tousled head poked through the hatch and fixed him with a familiar grin. “She’s fully armored and ready to kick. Some. Ass!”

This time, he did not smile in return. “Your levity is misplaced.”

“What?” Swinging her legs over the side of the hatch, she fell to the hangar floor with a grunt. “Just because we’re about to face down an army of giant, horrifying bugs who can zombify me with a touch, I can’t be excited? Fuck that.”

He huffed a burst of air through his nostrils.

This woman will kill me sooner than the Tyranids.

“Yet again, you oversimplify.”

She planted her fists on her hips and looked up at him, grin still firmly in place. “Didn’t your mama ever read you stories as a kid? Look around you!”

She gestured at the hangar. At TerraNovan engineers and Imperial techpriests working in (admittedly tense) tandem. At soldiers, mercenaries, and armed civilian voidsmen loading onto Thunderhawks and TerraNovan Lightning-class gunships. All the familiar restrained aggression of a battle yet to begin.

If I must endure one more “Thunder and Lightning” joke out of her…. 

She continued. “We’re the heroes, here! The ones who swoop in, slay the dragons, and rescue the princess. We have to win. So quit fucking moping.”

“We do not face dragons.”

“Fucking Void!” She threw her hands in the air. “You’re hopeless.”

He clenched his jaw. “Refusing to acknowledge the strength of an enemy is a swift path to annihilation.”

“Another line from your precious Codex?”

Something in him snapped. “Damn you to the Warp, woman!”

Hundreds of heads turned their way at the bellow. Tarchus closed his eyes and breathed deeply. 

What has become of my control? Why does she test me so? Why does the thought of her death make me feel-

A hand on his gauntlet. He opened his eyes to see Frenzy standing nearer than she had before, grin gone.

“I’m sorry, Big Guy.” Her voice had dropped to a whisper. “I know I’m… a lot to deal with. And I understand that what we’re about to face down there… fuck.” She gave a weak smile. “I’ve never faced anything like it before, and I’m fucking terrified. So, I laugh. It’s either that or cry.”

Another new feeling welled inside the Ultramarine. Similar to what he felt whenever he thought of the lost Lady. A desire to… protect.

“You will not face it alone, Frenzy.” He hesitated, then reached out and placed a massive armored hand on her shoulder. “By the Emperor, I vow it.”

Her eyes widened for a moment. She reached up and laid her own small hand over his.

“Tarchus, if we don’t make it through this, I just want to say-”

“VANGUARD ASSAULT SQUAD. BOARD NOW AND PREPARE FOR DEPLOYMENT.”

“Fuck!” Frenzy stepped back. “Give me a hand, Big Guy?”

He obliged, letting her use his gauntlet as a step stool as she clambered back into her mech’s cockpit. He watched her strap in, connecting various cables to ports in the black, reinforced arming suit she’d managed to scavenge from the wreckage of the Armory. 

“Void damn it… hand me my-”

Tarchus already had her helmet in his hand. She flashed him another grin.

“Thanks! We make a pretty good team, you and I.” She slipped it onto her head, the holo-visor automatically projecting over her eyes, and flashed him a thumbs up.

“Courage and honor, Lieutenant.”

Side by side, mech-pilot and marine marched toward a waiting Thunderhawk. 

***

Aboard another, specially modified Thunderhawk, Roboute Guilliman prepared for war. His Victrix Guard stood at his side, tension radiating from their Commander.

I understand your concerns, my son. But nothing will keep me from this battlefield.

So far, the plan had gone well. The mercenary fortress’ missile sites had been obliterated. The combined shields of the three battleships had allowed the smaller voidships huddled behind to launch their troops undisturbed. A landing zone was even now being cleared by the TerraNovan Rangers planetside. 

Only one detail set Guilliman’s teeth on edge.

“No, Roboute.”

He’d continued as if you hadn’t made that ridiculous objection. “You will come to the Landing Zone. My personal Thunderhawk will transport you back to the Macragge’s Honor.”

“You’re not listening to me.”

“You are being irrational!”

“I am their Matron Uncrowned! I cannot abandon them!”

“Do not make me order my sons to take you by force.”

The vox had gone silent for a long time after that. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would, my Love.” 

To keep you safe, I would.

“Roboute, I love you, but I’ve been either hiding or running all my life. No more.”

You’d cut the transmission after that… and he’d put his fist through the terminal.

The Thunderhawk trembled in such a way that he knew they were entering the atmosphere. Almost immediately afterwards the unmistakable sound of artillery filled the air. The vox came alive with pilots’ chatter.

“Anti-aircraft gun spotted! Firing energy cannons!”

“Whoo! That was a close one!”

“I’m hit! Mayday, mayday! Light help-”

“My Lord!” The Ultramarine pilot shouted to be heard over the chaos. “Landing Zone in sight. It appears heavily contested.”

“Open fire when in range, Lucius. Bring them wrath and ruin.”

“Yes, my Lord!”

Soon, the roar of Thunderhawk guns added to the cacophony. Guilliman closed his eyes, seeking the calm he always felt before battle. Instead, he saw your face. 

You’re close.

The thought made the beast within, the beast he thought he’d forced back into its cage, roar. He wrestled with it. He could not become a being of unthinking rage. Not again. He needed to plan, strategize, retain his rationality. Only then could victory be assured.

With a bone-shaking thud, the Thunderhawk landed. The ramp opened. Light and heat and screams and blood-

And you. My wife. My woman. Mine. Mine. MINE!

Vengeance Incarnate charged, flaming blade held high, into the fray.

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[nereidof40k]

Beautiful. I love this. Guess I don’t have to send Sevatar after Victor.

Poor Tarchus indeed. I hope he will feel better soon.

I loved the bit about Roboute wanting to flay Victor’s face.

And the cavalry is so heartwarming. They really love her

Pursue and Persevere

Pairing: Roboute Guilliman x FemReader

Warnings: Guilliman is a bit unhinged in this one

Description: Guilliman clings to sanity... and discovers new allies. Brother Tarchus comes to terms with his failure. And the Reader makes herself a promise.

I had so much fun fleshing out the TerraNovans in this chapter. Remember to check out my Masterlist for the previous chapters of this story, and feel free to ask to be added to/removed from the Taglist.

Also, my Asks are open if you have questions about my stories or characters, or if you'd just like to say hi.

He is more than the Avenging Son. 

The thought passed through Brother Julian Tarchus’s mind an instant before his genesire’s fist closed around his throat. 

He is Wrath Incarnate.

The Ultramarine had followed his father’s charge into the bowels of the battleship, ignoring Commander Sicarious’s infuriated orders. His armor had whined in protest as he pushed it to its limits. And yet, he had not been able to approach the Primarch’s speed.

He remembered coming upon Frenzy standing just outside a ruined doorway.  Her face, through her machine’s viewport, had the staring eyes of a corpse.

Then he’d heard the howl… and understood.

If he lived to match the years of the Chapter Master of his cousins in the Blood Angels, he would never forget that cry. Both his hearts stuttered. The blood in his veins congealed. Still, he pressed forward on stiffened legs.

The Primarch stood in the small hangar. 

Tarchus could not see his genesire’s face. Some primal part of him untouched by the brutal conditioning of an Astartes cowered.

Run. Run. RUN.

He would not. Could not.

“My Lord?”

The massive form turned. Eyes like blue lightning scorched his soul. A blur of movement, and fingers of adamantine dug into his flesh.

“She is gone.”

The words cut deeper than any blade. As Tarchus looked into the eyes of the demigod whose genes he carried, something within withered.

“You failed.”

The Ultramarine’s knees buckled. Only the impossible strength of the Primarch held him upright. Then, the fingers released and he fell.

Through a haze of shame, he heard the Commander’s shouts. The pounding of boots against metal. His brothers burst into the hangar, weapons ready, only to freeze at the sight of their Lord. Tarchus heard a dozen lungs suddenly fight for breath.

“Lord Guilliman,” Commander Sicarious sounded as though he spoke through a locked jaw, “what are your-”

“My Lady is alive, and in the hands of our enemy.” Humanity veiled the Primarch’s true nature once more. “He has fled with her like the craven he is. We will withdraw to the Macragge’s Honor and pursue.”

“My Lord, the remainder of the fleet back in Imperial space will be awaiting news. What-”

“Have the astropaths send what messages you deem appropriate. I care not.”

“Lord Guilliman-”

The veil tore. “I care not.”

Silence. Tarchus let his gaze drop to the floor.

A deep breath. “Have Captain Takahashi meet me upon our return. This ship, and whatever crew is wise enough to surrender, now belong to her.”

“And those who prove unwise?” The Commander growled.

“I have no mercy to spare for fools.”

The clash of ceramite on ceramite. “Understood, my Lord!” Hesitation. “And what of Brother-”

“He remains here. Until I see my Lady’s face again, I will not see his.” 

“...understood, my Lord.”

Tarchus kept his eyes on the floor until the pounding of sabatons faded into the distance. His chest felt as if he were once more trapped beneath that pile of scrap.

Useless. 

He’d sworn to free you.

Oathbreaker.

He’d been named your protector.

Failure.

“Big Guy?”

He paid no regard to the approach of the TerraNovan lieutenant and her strange machine. Hydraulics creaked. He heard the hiss of escaping air, then a soft grunt as baseline feet hit the floor.

“Hey, you alright?” The ghost of a hand on his forearm.

“You dare.” Lurching to his feet, he sent her stumbling backward. “I am an Ultramarine, a Warrior of the God-Emperor!”

He loomed over her. Her heartbeat pounded wildly within her chest, and yet, she did not retreat. Tiny fists clenched at her side. Dark eyes narrowed.

“Yeah, I fucking know.” She snarled up at him. “And you just got your ass chewed by… I’m not sure what He is. Except fucking terrifying!” 

To his utter bemusement, she then proceeded to jab a bloodied finger at his stomach. “And I’m asking if you’re fucking alright!”

Tarchus blinked down at her. Unfamiliar emotions flared through him.

My genesire rejected me. My brothers left me to my shame. And yet this woman… this tiny, feral creature….

“No.”

“No?”

“I am not… alright.” He forced the words out, only half-understanding why he spoke at all. “I am dishonored. A… failure.”

“Yeah? Join the club.” She snorted. “Ain’t many people more intimately acquainted with fucking up than me, Big Guy. You’re not the only one who decided not to go straight after the Princess.”

He huffed a burst of air through his nose. “You followed my directives.”

“Do I seem like the kind of person who follows fucking orders?” Her voice dropped to a mutter as she ran a hand through sweat-stiffened hair. “The one time I decide to play the good little soldier….”

“The blame is mine.”

“Fine. Take it then. But quit moping.”

The audacity…. “I do not ‘mope’.”

“Suuuuure.” She rolled her eyes. “Look, I’m just trying to say, the Princess is fucking alive. And as long as she stays that way, we haven’t failed. Doesn’t matter what that terrifying tower of pure fuck no says.” Once again, the finger jabbed at his midsection. “You and I still have a shot at redemption.”

In spite of everything, Tarchus felt a corner of his mouth tip upward. “And how do you propose we accomplish that?”

The half-mad grin returned. “Didn’t you hear the man, er, Primarch? We’re gonna run Vicky down. And whatever he’s got in store for us, be it mercs or Giant Fucking Space Bugs, we’re gonna grind their asses into bloody paste, not to mention rescue a Princess.”

She jerked a thumb toward the shattered doorway. “Now, I’m heading up to the Bridge to meet our new Captain. I heard she’s a real Ice Bitch, that true?”

“That is an accurate description.”

“Good. We’re gonna need someone like that to get this hulk in fighting shape again. C’mon.”

Tarchus watched her vault back into her machine, surprised to realize her words had driven away the cold despair he’d felt mere moments before.

I will restore my honor and succour the Lady. By the Emperor, I vow it!

“Hey, Big Guy!”

He glanced over to see the Lieutenant grinning at him through her machine’s viewport. 

“Bet I stomp more bugs than you!”

He pressed his helm over his face to hide an answering smile.

***

Roboute Guilliman did not smile. One image replayed in his superhuman mind over and over again, as clear as when he’d first witnessed it.

You. Alive.

Part of him could not believe it. This universe did not return the dead. Fate did not give second chances. Light, once extinguished, remained so.

But she is alive!

He envisioned each detail like a painter admiring his masterpiece. Your soft skin, your shining hair, your bright eyes. The way your lips formed his name. 

“Roboute!”

A groan tore from his chest. He sensed the concerned glances of his genesons but couldn’t bring himself to care.

The hope in that cry, the plea. 

And then the anguish.

More details clawed their way to the forefront of his eidetic memory. The mottled bruises on your skin, the cuts. Each one a violation bordering on blasphemy. Signs that someone had dared inflict pain upon you. 

Someone. Him.

His snarl sent an icy current of fear through the Command Center.

The cretin. The imbecile. The invertebrate masquerading as a man. He’d touched you. He’d had the gall to lay hands upon his light, his hope, the one who made life bearable. And more than hands.

The primal creature lurking within his inhuman soul writhed in helpless fury.

She is mine.

Mine.

Mine.

“Mine.”

“My Lord?” 

Guilliman turned toward the Commander, reading the uncertainty in his expression. “Do you think me mad, Sicarious?”

“I…”

He chuckled, an unpleasant sound even to his own ears. “Perhaps I am. It matters not.” Turning back, he leaned over the holographic star chart. “What news from the Captain?”

The Commander snapped to attention. “All opposition onboard The Predator has ceased. It appears many of the crew were functionally slaves, captured in various piratical actions, and were eager to swear loyalty. With the addition of the remaining crew from the Captain’s previous ship, repairs to The Predator’s engines are already well underway.”

The Commander continued, relating projected timelines for completion, status of multiple shipboard systems, armament reports, etc. All the while, Guilliman’s gaze zeroed in on a single world shown on the chart. His instincts howled to be underway, even if it meant leaving the damaged TerraNovan battleship behind. 

However, despite what Cato may think, I am not entirely devoid of reason.

If Tyranids did indeed lay in wait for them, they would need every bit of firepower at their disposal.

He shook his head.

If Victor truly believes himself allied with those horrors, then he is the madman, not I.

A madman who held you in his clutches.

Again, the looping image of you being dragged into the ship… the bastard’s mouth savaging your delicate lips… stealing what belonged only to him. For a moment, Guilliman entertained a vicious fantasy of playing the Night Lord and peeling Victor’s face from his skull while he screamed.

I would lay it at your feet, and then take you before his still-living eyes, letting the last thing he hears be your voice screaming my name-

He grit his teeth and let his head fall forward between his shoulders, breath coming in hissing gasps.

By the Throne, what have you done to me, my love?

“Multiple contacts exiting the Warp!”

Everything snapped back into focus. “Hostiles?”

“Unknown, my Lord.” The baseline crewmember fiddled with his console. “Several appear similar to the TerraNovan warships we’ve encountered, many however…,” a pause, accompanied by the clacking of keys, “appear to be civilian?”

A vox operator called out next. “Hail from Captain Takahashi, my Lord!”

“Patch her through.”

The star chart vanished, replaced by the quivering image of the TerraNovan Captain. “Lord Guilliman, do not fire upon the approaching vessels.”

He stared into her bloodshot eyes. “Explain, Captain.”

To his surprise, she smiled. “The Lady Heir put out a call to arms, my Lord. This is the answer.” 

The next hours could only be described as organized chaos as Imperial vox operators and TerraNovan communications officers struggled to bring order to what was quickly becoming a ragtag fleet.

Guilliman stood in the midst of it all, listening to the sheer variety of hails.

Some military.

“This is the cruiser, New Sydney, of the loyal TerraNovan Navy. Prepared to enter fleet formation.”

“This is troop transport, Raed, loyal to the Lady Heir. Damaged in the battle over Xin Beijing, but we are warriors and, by the Light, we will fight!”

“Battleship Eko Tuntun. Three of our engines are gone, we are slow. But we are here.”

Some decidedly less so.

“Holy shit! The Imps are here! Uh, yeah, this is the ore hauler Lucky Strike. Not much in the way of weapons, but we’ll do what we can.”

“This is prison transport Tapasya, from the Zeta penal mining colony, Colonel Samarth Gurung, formerly of Her Majesty's 3rd Rifles, commanding. We are the unjustly accused. We will fight for the Matron Uncrowned… and for her allies.”

And still more came. Naval ships. Merchants. Smugglers. Pirates. Voidships of more sizes and shapes than he had seen since his awakening placed themselves under Captain Takahashi’s command.

“My Lord,” Sicarious groused, “surely this… fleet… should report to you!”

“They do not know me, Cato. To them, the entire Imperium is an unknown entity. Perhaps to be feared. We will earn their trust, not force their compliance.”

His sons did not understand. He hoped, someday, to change that. In the meantime, he watched the TerraNovans come to their Lady’s call. His mind calculated troop strengths, total armaments, potential strategies. The endless theoreticals and practicals calmed the snarling beast within… for the moment. 

“Another hail from Captain Takahashi, my Lord.”

This time, the Captain did not smile. “I’ve received a transmission from the latest voidship to arrive, Lord Guilliman. He requests to speak with you directly.” She hesitated. “I believe you should hear him.”

“Very well.”

A young man appeared on the display. Gaunt, spectacled, and leaning heavily upon a cane.

“Lord Guilliman,” he whispered hoarsely, “my name is Conrad, Prince of TerraNova. I believe you’ve met my cousins.”

***

You hadn’t seen Victor for hours, and thanked the Light for it. 

Tossed in a half-lighted storage closet like unwanted baggage, you curled upon the floor and replayed the day’s events in your mind. Or had it been multiple days? You didn’t know.

So much fear. So much death. Some at your hand.

In the silence, you allowed yourself to grieve. And, when the tears stopped, to rejoice.

When he burst into the hangar like the vengeful god many say he is, I couldn’t breathe!

All else had faded away. You hadn’t felt the ache of your abused body, Victor’s noxious presence, or the terror that had dogged your every step. Only him.

Bloodstained and brutal and beautiful. A hero out of legend, come for you.

Oh, the look in his eyes…!

If you’d entertained any doubts before, you had none now. Roboute had looked at you like he’d shatter worlds to have you, shatter the very stars themselves. And you believed he could.

All too briefly.

You wished you’d bitten Victor when he kissed you. Or, rather, when he made the attempt. You knew what a kiss should be. Your cousin’s clumsy mauling didn’t compare. And yet you’d simply let him do as he pleased with you. 

As you had so many times since your grandmother took you.

I could make excuses. Too tired. Too overwhelmed. Too weak. Too frightened.

No. More. In the frigid darkness of the cramped closet, you whispered a Vow.

“Never again will I be a passive participant in my own life. Light guide me and make it so!”

You would wait. You would watch. You would play the role your cousin expected: timid and broken.

But you would find a way out, a way back to the only man who’d ever truly seen you, who you loved and who loved you with an intensity that set you aflame. Side by side, you would purge the evil your cousin had nurtured.

"I will be the leader our people believe I am, Victor. And, before Roboute kills you, I will make sure you know it.”

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