"In the ruthless universe of the far future there is only war."
That is something that Kanan Scott knew very well. After two hundred years or more, as he never counted, he thought that his death would give him the opportunity for eternal rest in the...
But the promises of war were not long in coming. The next morning the orks were ready to leave, with such impressive speed that even the aeldaris themselves thought it would be impossible. But never doubt an ork and his desire for battle. However, there was someone who was nowhere to be seen.
The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, and Kanan walked across the green plains upon which once stood the battlefield that Atem III would never forget. A few kilometers away, the human settlement could still be seen, which miraculously still stood, because the orks respected the warlord's decision not to destroy it. Plus, the occasional fight against the humi was always good to stay motivated. However, Kanan headed in the opposite direction. Just south.
His steps took him to a curious place, one filled with green grasses and bright sunshine. A place that was sacred to the greenskins, which told the most impressive passages of the war they had ever experienced. And right in the middle of all that peace, a huge ork was looking at the horizon with something quite peculiar at his side.
Kanan: - I see you have a new friend. -
Kurnet: - My lord... I didn't ezpect to zee you here. -
Kanan never saw Kurnet as someone complex. In fact, the ork himself was quite simple, but perhaps seven years of solitude had changed something inside him. Now the warlord's hand was turned towards his lord, and right next to it were the remains of a destroyed dreadnaught. A black templar dreadnaught.
Kanan didn't say anything else, and simply walked past him and sat next to the ork, leaving the destroyed dreadnaught on the other side. It was curious to see how the voracious nature of the Ork spores tried to bury the enormous pieces of metal in an infinite network of roots, but even within that predation by nature, one could appreciate the rudeness of the machine that once was.
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Kanan: - An old friend? - He asked, breaking the ice.
Kurnet: - More or lezz... But a great warrior... He didn't kompare wiz you... but our battle waz gloriouz... For zeven yearz I haven't felt the zame az when we fought together. -
Kanan: - A lot of things have happened... And we have lost a lot of time. But now we are ready to start again. -
Kurnet: - For of the old timez? -
Kanan could do nothing but laugh at this. Laughing in a scenario as disconcerting as the one he found himself in.... But yes... Many things were going to get complicated from now on.
Kanan: - Yes, my friend... Like in the old days. -
However, time didn't just run its course for those stranded on Atem III. The galaxy had undergone major changes, and millions of souls had entered the endless cycle of life.
Now, enjoying a momentary peace, the fleet of the second legion had the luxury of catching its breath after the long seven years of uninterrupted war. The war in the Outcast Nexus was cruel and bloody, but humanity managed to prevail against the countless forces of the Necrons. Although it should be noted that the main reason for his victory was the countless internal disputes between Imotekh, lord of the storm, and the silent king. But this is something that no one within the Empire of Mankind knows.
But a victory is a victory. The motives and causes are just factors that tipped the balance towards the winning side... After all, even luck itself is a skill of a great general.
Tomoe, primarch of the second legion, walked through the corridors of the imposing flagship: The battle barge "Blood Revenge." After so many political matters and reviewed papers, he could afford to breathe calmly and walk through the corridors where only servants and more loyal ones converged. Free from his heavy armor and from any military or political position. Just a huge woman, eight feet tall. However, he never expected to encounter something unexpected.
It was impossible for the primarch to notice the figure that stood in front of one of the ship's enormous windows. His gaze was lost in the infinite void of space, and his mind was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he could not even notice the imposing woman approaching him.
Tomoe: - These years have been hell. -
Harrus: - Primarch Tomoe... Excuse me. I didn't notice his presence. -
Tomoe: - Don't worry, commissioner... Getting away from military or political life won't hurt anyone. -
Time changes many things. We know people who arrive... Others who leave. Some only pass by us for a second and our memory is not even able to remember their faces. But others remain impregnated in our minds for eternity... Although their face was always hidden under a mask.
Tomoe: - I just hope that those we leave behind can find the rest they so deserve. -
Harrus: - I... I also hope the same. -
Seeing the commissioner and not feeling a little sorry for him was impossible. Especially for those who knew him best. The Outcast Nexus War left some new wounds on his body, but nothing that Imperial technology couldn't heal. But the pain in his chest only time would be able to heal it.
Now, the commissioner carried in his hands a peculiar gas mask... A mask that was only used by those daredevils who had been born under the shadow of a polluted sky... The mask of a Krieg Korp soldier.
Harrus: - He was more than my superior... He was like a father to me... Despite being so different... -
Tomoe: - Wherever he is, I know that Colonel Tairon will be proud of what you have become. You don't just follow in his footsteps. Now you are part of his legacy. As well as all those men and women of Krieg who follow you. -
It was difficult for Harrus to stay cheerful at that moment. His hand went down to his pocket, taking out for both of them an attractive medal that had been given to him just a couple of hours ago in an attractive military profession. A medal that showed his highest commemoration for his honor and courage in battle. The Deathmark of Ollanius Pius.
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It was a great recognition but... At what price? The commissioner couldn't care less, and didn't hesitate for a second to throw her into the nearest trash container he found while walking with the primarch to any part of the ship.
Tomoe: - He would be very proud of you. -
Harrus: - Miss Tomoe... This is embarrassing. - The least he could say when the primarch caressed his head as if he were a small child.
Now, Harrus proudly wore his superior's mask on his chest, right in front of his heart like a part of himself. He was not born on Krieg, but those under his command saw him as one of their own. For now on his shoulders rested not only the command of a regiment of the Astra Militarum, but also an entire division of the Krieg Korp. Those who under Colonel Tairon's command gave their all, now followed the commissioner as their new superior. The successor to his respected superior in command.
