On The Wings of Eagles – Carrendar Dynasty.
December 11, 2012 09:26AM
The day had been drawn out in what seemed to be a lifetime of grim anticipation. The landing grounds of Krieg had been blustering with movement. Large troop transport vessels had descended through the degraded and hazardous atmosphere like lumbering titans of legend, seeming to set down with a thunderous boom of their landing gears touching radioactive soil. Constantine, Commander of the 901st Siege Unit, stared with a sullen look mixed with a residual anger that he had for being casted from port to port. Ever since their founding in response to the utter annihilation of their predecessor regiment, the remaining few that composed it were taken to make a grizzled stock of veterans, capable of training new recruits into a new glorified regiment hellbent on glory. This mere thought made Constantine stifle a grunt of dissatisfaction. His icy blue eyes scanned the massed troops in their regimental embarkation, such a spectacle swelled a sense of pride and honor within his chest. He had seen enough to know any guard worth his salt, to know that any man has the potential to live past fifteen hours after basic, and each day his regiment lived was a testament to that belief. He turned on heel to face the waiting lieutenant that stood patiently holding a rather large stack of documents intermingled with data-slates and scrolls. His eyes fixed upon the lieutenant’s with one that would send any normal, untrained soldier into a state of fear that would send him groveling in his own piss. “Trooper Kaffren. Tell me, and do be honest, why is it exactly that when I woke up this morning, that it wasn’t due to my aide, but rather my whole damned bunk shook from the footfalls of my regiment’s boarding procession? What, or should I for what purpose, are they boarding those transports to Emperor knows what hell?” his voice had rung in a dried rhasp that scratched at the very mind of the lieutenant. “ We have been summone-” he was cut off by the slightly risen voice of Constantine “ Who.” Kaffren nodded slowly as he would shuffle over to the desk that was no more than two steps from where Constantine stood, letting the mountain of documents avalanche down onto the hardened steel surface. Constantine’s eyebrow quirked in curious question as he saw the reddened seal of the Mechanicus upon one of the documents. He reached down taking the document within his grasp, scanning over it thoroughly as if searching for the key to unlock the greatest mystery known to him. He read aloud “Commander Constantine, It is by Emperor’s will that your regiment, the 901st Death Korps of Krieg, Siege Unit, be deployed upon the request of the Mechanicus, under Sanctions due to standing authority, to aide in the submission of a Hive World, Fortifications classified as…” he paused a moment as he looked at the last few lines. His eyes slowly started upward until they locked onto Kaffrens silvery hues “I now understand. However I do not think the Mechanicus understands the duty they…wait…what am I thinking? Of course they understand, they just do not give a damn.” Constantine began to bellow a laugh that would have the two guards outside of his offices’ doors stare at one another with worried expressions. However it was not uncommon for the Commander to be in this state, but the thought did nothing to help settle their stomachs from churning. Constantine would simply shake his head at the document in a state of resignation, his eyes re-reading the document in quiet dismay as he had hoped that they would not be sent back into the field so soon with such youths still going through training. He let out a long, drawn out sigh before he spoke in a more stone cold voice “Make necessary preparations for my craft to take me directly to the ship Spear of Vraks within..” he pulled up his storm coat’s cuff to stare at his watch, a gift he had been given by his mother before he was taken from his family during tithing season where many boys were taken to be trained into the machinations of the Emperor’s Divine will. “Three hours is all I shall need. Be sure that the Commissar’s are prepared and have made sure that morale is strong within our ranks. I dont need deserter’s to further stain this regiment’s honor. Dismissed.” With a clack of heels the Lieutenant saluted Constantine, likewise the gesture was returned before the hiss of the mechanical door’s parting filled the rooms stoned silence, only to seal behind Kafferen. Constantine, without delay, made for his armor and munitions locker. His fingers danced about the key runes as if it were a daily regime. The doors hissed open, revealing the contents within their protective bodies. Constantine’s armor wasn’t glorifying, nor was it very aesthetically pleasing. His armor consisted of what a kaskrin might wear into battle, with a few personal touches of customized sigils or prayerscript across the right side of the breastplate. His helmet had carried a personal script across the back of it ‘In Death Does Duty End, But Death does not end for a Son of Krieg.’ his gloved hand had brushed the silver leafed text in silent remembrance, as he too, had once served in the same shoes as the recruits have to serve in now. Closing his eyes, he began to recite the Rite of Protection. After he concluded, he began to place each piece of armor, almost ceremoniously upon himself, continuously reciting the Rite as each piece of armor locked onto his scarred flesh. Each scar told a different story, a different tale that could fill days of such tales were one to hear them. About the chime of the second hour, Constantine walked down prestigious halls of the Departmento Munitorium, armored in the armor of his forefathers.

Flanking either side of him stood in silent vigil, his command retinue. His retinue consisted of a Command Vox Operator Derge, Commissar Ivran, a psyker by the name of Lucius, and Magos Xith. As the group reached the boarding platform for Constantine’s personal Valkyrie, his vox-bead chimed. Reaching up he pressed the small device “Constantine Here.” Kafferen’s voice resonated quite clearly through the channel “General, we are awaiting your arrival. The ships shall make for high orbit dock now to await further orders. Scheduled departure within one hour.” Constantine gave a brief nod of affirmation before he replied “Very good. I want the recruits to be training with commissar’s watch whilst in Warp transit to our destination. I like to go into battle knowing we are more than just cannon fodder.” Without missing a beat Kafferen replied “Yes General, by your will. We will be ready. For Kreig” Constantine replied “For the Emperor. Constantine out.” With the clack of armored boots, the command retinue along with Constantine embarked upon the valkyrie’s loading ramp. The procession of the entire regiment almost seemed as if it were a planetary exodus, the ships carrying them to high orbit anchor until all units were accounted for. The Spear of Vraks came around to the front of the gathered group of vessels, slowly its engines turned to bring the rest of the vessels into an escort formation, where the transport vessels would be protected by the escorting frigates. On the command bridge of the Spear of Vraks, Constantine stood over by the gantry railing that hung over the heads of the bustling adepts and servitors below. Captain Orion sat within his command chair, his hand seeming to sporadically clack away at the chairs keypad whilst his eyes stared over the various monitor screens, the room casted in a golden glow of the screens as they read off the confirmed readiness checks enlisted to the battle force. Constantine’s eyes seemed fixated on the looming stars in the universal sky, his eyes scanning over distant nebulae that could only be described as the absolute meaning of beautiful. He turned towards the screens as his eyes flickered over the scrolling text, if it had not been for the captain, he might have been given one hell of a headache from trying to decipher the runes. Xith approached Constantine, the unmistakable clack and whirr of servos, and the heavy oily musk filled the air in his presence. Xith’s metallic voice began to drone out “General, it has come to my attention we are awaiting final checks and preparations. I shall attend the machine spirits with my brethren.” Constantine turned his head only slightly to regard the Magos “Agreed. Tend to the spirits, we need them awoken for battle.” the Magos turned and began his heavy steps towards the cargo bays. The drone of a servitors voice resonated through the speakers all around the ships that gathered in high anchor “Twenty minutes until Warp Transit. Prepare for Warp Gate Entry. The Emperor Protects.” Constantine looked upward, trying to find the speaker, more out of habit than necessity to no avail. He would then nod to himself slightly, turning to make his way to his quarters. He knew this would be a long ride, Warp Travel was unpredictable, and could take anywhere from a day, to years in order to reach their destination. He could not stand this waiting, he was fearful of the lives of his men. He had been one of the few who survived the previous fall of the predecessor regiment, and he would do his very damned best and more, in order to ensure the survival of this one. However, he cared deeply for his men, he cared for their lives, he cared to make these ones last. He would equip them with the strength and weapons to challenge any hell, and make them come out alive, only to dive them feet first into another one, only for them to overcome that one like the first. He would not, he refused to, and would not allow the death of an entire regiment because of one’s stupidity. He would bring glory to the name of the 901st, or he would send them to die honorably. At this point, he was at the Emperor’s Judgement. And may the Immortal Emperor have mercy on their souls. He could hear, even from sitting against the metallic wall of his quarters, the familiar hum of the Gellar Fields activating as they prepared their jump into the Warp. The servitors voice droned out once more “Initializing Warp Gate Activation. Commencing Warp Jump in Minus….3………2……….1…… Launch. “ at that moment the ship lurched forward into the warp, the air changed around him, as did the feeling of solidity usually found in realspace. He was now in the home of daemons. How ironic it was for a mortal to now trespass freely in the home of Chaos and all its taint, whilst the daemon could not come unless summoned into reality. He closed his eyes, feeling as though the shadows themselves were alive, he took faith in knowing that the Emperor was watching, safeguarding them through this ethereal sea of evil. The Warp was a very peculiar entity in itself, a minute in realspace could almost seem as though six months had passed in warp time, or ten thousand years could pass by just as easily as a minute could in the Warp. This brought Constantine too much time to think, which fueled his resentment and anger towards persons long forgotten.

It had been three decades ago, that Constantine himself, had to cast down a family member, likewise in the same rank as he was during those years. His grandfather, Severus Malthorian, was a ranking Colonel of the 832nd before it later became known as the 901st which was the current force Constantine himself inherited from such a shameful man. It was during the defense of Tarsis Ultra in the late M41, when the Tyranid Swarm had come to the planet surface. Against the Colonel Octavius Rabelaq’s orders, and standing with Colonel Stagler, Severus and Constantine commanded elements of the 832nd in a joint attempt to aide Stagler’s forces to destroy the Bio-Titan. However in the midst of it, Constantine and Severus fought each other in a deadly duel with the clash of chain swords. Severus wished to pull back his elements, leaving Constantine’s flank wide open for the Tyranids to swarm from all sides, only granting enough time for Severus to escape with his men intact. However, Constantine learned of this plan through tapping into Severus’s personal communication network. After the death of his grandfather, he ordered the elements to give one last push forward, destroying a great size of the initial swarms advance before he withdrew to keep his men alive from utter and wasteful annihilation. Constantine had spent the better part of six months in the hospital due to his severe injuries. His right arm, was replaced with a very sturdy augment. His left eye was then replaced with an ocular augment that allows him to see greater distances as if through a pair of binoculars. Furthermore, his triumph over his cowardly uncle, granted him command over the 832nd, soon after renamed the 901st, seeking to wash away the stain of a dishonored name. At the end of his line of thoughts, bearing down remembrance of those times he realized his face had twisted subconsciously into a scowl of anger. After this realization he shook his head, standing once more to gaze at himself through the mounted mirror in his quarters. His mechanical hand slowly running over the scars that peppered his grizzled features as if they were medals, deserving of recognition. It would be only a few hours more before they broke Warp, and in those few hours, he would put this time to good use. He turned on heel to storm out of his quarters, only to make his advancement towards the cargo quarters where the Commissar’s bark and call would be heard, ordering the men through drilling exercises. Constantine came forth, the Commissar ordered the gathered masses to halt. Constantine came to stand upon the small raised dias were he stood to regard his men. His icy eye would stare out at the lot of them, scanning through them like a jeweler would gaze through a gem, looking for flaws or lingering impurities. After what seemed a lifetime of silence, he cleared his throat and spoke to the amassed troops

“Men. The Emperor has seen fit to cast our lot in another battlefield awaiting the glorious footfalls of the 901st. We have been tasked, to eradicate a non-compliant world right back into Imperial hands. We are Sons of Krieg, we have been through, struggled through, and ate at the table of hell. We go to sit once more and feast at its very dining halls. And what do we say when we are done?”

The masses all cheered in unison “We ask for more!”

Constantine bolstered and raised his voice higher “And when finally devils wish to take our lives, what then?!”

The masses grew louder “ WE KILL THEM ALL!”


At one bellow of riotous and zealous shouting “WE ANNOINT THEM WITH THEIR OWN BLOOD!!”

Constantine grinned as he said at last “FOR KRIEG!”

and in response “FOR THE EMPEROR!”

With that final notion Constantine replied “Carry On!” turning on heel he made his way through the various decks of the Spear of Vraks until he walked across the very gantries of the Command Bridge. As he strode across the cold surface of the bridge, Captain Orion turned his cable enveloped head towards him in a slight regard before his voice rang out in its deep monotonous drone “General, We are about to break from Warp.” Constantine inhaled a long drawn breath, only to exhale, calming his thudding heart, the all too familiar adrenaline rush of battle had come. He closed his eyes a moment, the world seeming to go silent as he gathered his wits about him. He nodded now after a long moments pause, before he rose his head towards the captain “Good. Send a hail to the commanding contingent of Astartes. I wish to speak with the Commander as soon as we breach into real space. Make it known that we are at their service and shall be dispatched immediately. Once we hit the ground, be sure to go back to high orbit with their fleets. From there, await orders.” the captain nodded in affirmation as he then pulled his consciousness into the ship itself, allowing his voice to emit from the vox speakers “Warp Break in thirty seconds…”. With this, Constantine would grasp the railing with his hands, firmly grinding the metal between his hands as he awaited to see what would come to challenge them this day. The ship groaned as it broke warp and speared into real space, the contingent of ships following suitely behind him as they all gathered in their escort formation. He would then nod to the Captain to send out a transmission, Constantine cleared his throat, folding his hands behind his back as he spoke “

Attention Imperial Vessels. I am General Constantine Iacton Kurze of the 901st Death Korps of Krieg Siege Unit. We are awaiting your orders.”