Chapter 20: This is No Longer Humanity's Home
The Solar System—birthplace of mankind, cradle of the species that would one day claim dominion over a million worlds. It was the eldest of all the star systems that bore witness to humanity's glory, where the first tentative steps into the void were taken, where Subspace travel was wrested from the immaterium's cruel embrace.
In the Golden Age of Technology, when man's ingenuity knew no bounds, vast megastructures were raised in the system's cold depths to bind the scattered children of Terra in common purpose.
The most striking of these wonders was the Gates of Elysium—twin monuments to human achievement located beyond Uranus and Pluto, known throughout the scattered colonies as the Twin Gates.
The gates defied the fundamental laws that governed Subspace translation.
Where other vessels must emerge at a system's Mandeville Point beyond the outer reaches, lest the competing realities of realspace and the warp tear hull from superstructure in catastrophic dissolution, the Gates of Elysium permitted safe transition deep within the system's heart.
To attempt such depths elsewhere would mean certain destruction—ship and crew alike consumed by the paradox of overlapping dimensions. These two permanent warp entry and exit points stood as strategic assets beyond price within the Solar System.
Having departed Mars' crimson orbital embrace, the Imperial fleet made course for the Uranian gate with ponderous majesty. In the void surrounding that ancient wonder, approximately three thousand kilometers from the gate itself, a halo of luminous particles drifted in eternal dance.
Tiny motes forming ring belts that emitted soft radiance—Siren's Dust, the locals called it, a beautiful byproduct shed by countless ships that had pierced the veil between dimensions.
Since humanity's creation of the Gates of Elysium, every vessel entering or exiting Subspace would produce and shed this soft, glowing gray substance. The luminous particles encircled the gates like floating smoke encased within a crystal sphere.
Yet such wonders required constant vigilance. The star gates remained under perpetual guard, with several magnificent fortress-monasteries suspended in the void's embrace, their weapons trained upon the threshold.
Within their adamantium halls dwelt the hereditary guardians—men and women whose bloodlines had protected this sacred passage for generations unnumbered.
They stood vigil against potential alien incursions and the ever-present threat of Iron Men who had betrayed their sacred oaths of loyalty.
Even as the Solar System descended into chaos during the Eternal Night crisis, degenerating through endless internal strife, these hereditary clan warriors maintained their watch unbroken.
Their duty transcended the petty conflicts that consumed other worlds.
When the Human Empire's magnificent fleet appeared within detection range of the major fortresses, widespread panic seized the guardian clans. Since the Iron Men's rebellion and the advent of the Eternal Night era, those dwelling within the fortress-monasteries had never witnessed a fleet of such magnitude.
The patriarchs of the various clans united in hasty council and dispatched an inquiry to the fleet's master.
Their message bore wording that was cautious throughout, yet revealed unmistakable pride beneath formal protocol. Should the fleet's commander prove unwilling to explain his intentions, they would activate the ancient weapons left by their forebears.
They would resist any invaders unto death itself, until the last drop of blood was shed by the various clans in defense of their sacred charge.
"I come with peaceful intent," the Emperor's response echoed across the vox-networks, His voice carrying both the authority of absolute command and the warmth of paternal concern. "I come only that humanity's glory will once again illuminate the stars."
The Master of Mankind possessed neither an impulsive nature nor a bloodthirsty temperament. With infinite patience, He communicated with the guardians, declaring that worlds such as Terra, Luna, Mars, and Venus had already submitted to the newly forged Human Empire.
This reunited realm had assembled an expeditionary army unprecedented in scale, sworn to restore the lost glory of human civilization across the galaxy.
Then the Emperor demanded their allegiance.
Under the twin influences of the powerful fleet's presence and His overwhelming personal charisma, the guardians of the Gates of Elysium expressed their willingness to swear the oaths of fealty.
The expeditionary force held a grand and solemn ceremony to welcome the local clan envoys with all due honor. As their ancient-pattern spacecraft settled upon the flight deck of the Imperator Somnium, the ship's ceremonial band struck up a carefully arranged composition—the Human Heroic March.
Its melody rang grand and stirring, expressing the unconquerable idea that humanity, though cast into deepest distress, remained brave and unyielding, persisting in righteous resistance against the darkness.
The Emperor stood waiting in an aureate plate of magnificent craftsmanship, a longsword of ancient provenance at His side and a bolt pistol secured at His thigh.
Behind him ranged the Legio Custodes in their golden panoply, while numerous Terra-born bureaucrats and administrators observed the proceedings with calculating eyes.
Upon his shoulder, Raven perched in watchful silence, observing the clan envoys as they emerged from their vessel.
The delegation bore faces and forms grown pale from generations spent far from Sol's warming light. Such was inevitable—Uranus lay 19.8 astronomical units distant from the sun, nearly twenty times farther than Terra itself.
The stellar radiance required more than two hours to reach the vicinity of Uranus, leaving the outer system's inhabitants marked by their harsh environment.
The envoys were led by a tall figure clad in crimson robes of office. Half his visage remained flesh, half bore the cold perfection of mechanical augmentation, while his eyes gleamed as twin emeralds wrought from photo-receptive crystals.
He leaned upon an exquisite golden scepter, its surface intricately carved with ancient guardian totems that spoke of authority inherited across the ages.
The robed figure approached the Emperor with measured steps, executed a precise bow, and offered a formal salutation.
"It is an honor beyond measure to stand before the Lord of the Human Empire," he intoned with courtly precision. "Please accept our humble praise and absolute loyalty."
"Rise," the Emperor commanded, His voice carrying the weight of absolute authority. "You have kept faith through the Long Night. Now witness the dawn of humanity's ascension."
His acknowledgment greatly eased the tension visible upon the envoy's features, and the man straightened with renewed confidence.
"Please permit me the privilege of introduction. I am Emory, War Consul of the Eye of the Ancient God Guardian Alliance. I bear the honor of representing all clans in welcoming your arrival to our domain."
"I welcome your inclusion within the Human Empire's embrace," the Emperor replied with regal bearing. "In the name of Imperium of Man, humanity's glory shall once again illuminate the stars."
The negotiations between both parties proceeded with remarkable smoothness, absent the complications that might have been expected.
War Consul Emory affixed his seal to the alliance documents, formally binding the clans to Imperial service. Thus did the Human Empire reclaim the Uranus sector without a single shot being fired in anger.
At Pluto's Gate of Elysium, the situation proved even more accommodating to Imperial interests. The outer system's guardians dwelt even farther from Sol's life-giving warmth, their settlements shrouded in ice and snow throughout the eternal winter of their distant orbit.
Following the Eternal Night era's descent upon human civilization, the various colonies fell into fratricidal strife, rendering them unable to maintain supply lines to Pluto's hardy defenders.
Deprived of material support and facing technological regression that made even basic self-sufficiency a challenge, the guardians barely maintained subsistence levels. The heavy burden of protecting the Gates of Elysium was sustained by faith alone—belief in duty that transcended mere survival.
Fortune smiled upon them in that no alien forces attempted invasion during these desperate years, else they would have discovered defenders reduced to ragged humans bearing worn-out weapons of dubious reliability.
The Empire's arrival brought profound relief to the guardians of Pluto's gate. Regardless of the newcomers' ultimate motives, they at least bore the genetic heritage of humanity rather than xenos corruption. The isolated defenders welcomed Imperial rule as liberation from their prolonged suffering.
With both Twin Gates secured under Imperial control, no strategic targets of comparable importance remained within the Solar System proper.
Under the prolonged torment of the Long Night era, residents throughout the various colonies yearned desperately for unification under stable governance.
Wherever the Imperial armies advanced, they encountered enthusiastic welcomes from populations desperate for order and purpose.
Naturally, certain rulers of space cities and colonial habitats proved unwilling to accept this so-called new era of unity. To such individuals, the Empire offered enlightenment through more direct means.
The Legio Custodes and the nascent Legiones Astartes easily overwhelmed local defense forces with contemptuous ease. They dragged the recalcitrant fools from their luxurious palaces and executed them before gathered crowds of their former subjects.
The Empire's position remained crystal clear: submit and pledge absolute allegiance, or face complete destruction. Under the terrifying offensive capability demonstrated by the great army, resistance forces throughout the Solar System were swept aside like chaff before the storm.
The chaotic Solar System achieved unification once more under Imperial rule. Such a magnificent accomplishment would represent the pinnacle of achievement for any ordinary mortal's entire existence.
For the Emperor, however, this represented merely the opening movement of a far grander symphony.
The Empire initiated large-scale conscription throughout the various colonies within the Solar System's bounds. Mining facilities constructed within the asteroid belt, around the gas giants, and throughout the distant Oort Cloud received reactivation orders and began efficient extraction of diverse resources from the void itself.
As a space-faring civilization, humanity had consumed merely a minute fraction of the Solar System's immense material wealth even after tens of thousands of years of exploitation.
Vast quantities of raw minerals underwent extraction, refinement into useful metal components, and transportation to Mars' industrial complexes.
The red planet's foundries operated at maximum capacity, their furnaces roaring without cessation throughout day and night cycles. They produced endless streams of weapons, equipment, and warships to fuel the Emperor's grand design.
Under the Master of Mankind's iron will, a magnificent expeditionary force rapidly took shape and substance. Thousands of vessels assembled in formation near Uranus' orbital position—a spectacle of such grandeur that it defied adequate description.
When the army achieved full readiness for departure, the Emperor once more addressed Malcador with final instructions.
"Guard Imperium with utmost care," He commanded with paternal concern. "Protect this nascent Empire during My absence."
"I understand completely," Malcador responded with a solemn nod. "I shall never disappoint Your trust in me."
The Emperor acknowledged this pledge and, surrounded by His Custodian Guard, boarded a hover-shuttle for transport to His flagship.
Upon reaching the command throne of the Imperator Somnium, He addressed the entirety of the assembled fleet through vox-transmission.
"Set sail!" His words rang with divine authority across thousands of vessels. "The Great Crusade begins at this very moment, and humanity's glory shall once again illuminate the stars!"
Under the watchful gaze of countless mortal eyes, the massive fleet departed Sol's embrace. They entered Subspace through the Gates of Elysium, the ancient mechanisms responding flawlessly to their intended purpose.
Perhaps due to the Emperor's personal navigation guidance working in concert with His chosen Navigators, the fleet's voyage proceeded with exceptional smoothness—not a single vessel suffered damage during translation.
Seven days after departure, they achieved emergence within their target destination. Comparison against star charts preserved from the Golden Age confirmed the expeditionary force had reached the Peta Kanas Star System successfully.
"Your Majesty," the fleet's senior information officer reported with formal precision, "we have received an incoming transmission."
"What manner of message?" the Emperor inquired from His golden throne.
"A warning transmission, my lord."
"A warning?" The Emperor's expression remained impassive, though those who served Him closely might have detected subtle changes in His demeanor.
The information officer nodded respectfully and transmitted the received data directly to the Emperor's personal cogitation banks.
As the Master of Mankind reviewed the warning message's contents, Raven, perched upon His shoulder, observed the text as well, reading its dire contents aloud with a synthetic voice that somehow made the human desperation contained within seem even more chilling:
"To our human compatriots receiving this message—please, do not proceed further into this system. Peta Kanas has become a charnel house of unspeakable horror, where twisted and evil things run rampant through every world and void-station. This is no longer a home for humanity."
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