Star Krakens
| Star Krakens | ||
|---|---|---|
| TBD, probably something with squids/a lighthouse | ||
| Battle Cry | "In Darkness Dwells!" | |
| Founding | Recent, M39 or M40 | |
| Successors of | Raven Guard | |
| Successor Chapters | None | |
| Primarch | Corvus Corax | |
| Homeworld | Fleet-based (Mobius/ The Lighthouse) | |
| Strength | Was 1500, now ~800. | |
| Allegiance | Imperium | |
| Colours | Sea green, black shoulders and copper/bronze trim | |
So far a fairly decent /tg/ custom Chapter, the Star Krakens are a Raven Guard successor chapter with a heavy emphasis on deep sea mythology, viking influence (but not THAT Viking influence) and ship-to-ship combat. They inhabit a region of space featuring the Deep, a dark nebula which obfuscates almost all attempts at scanning it.
Synopsis
Spawning from the Raven Guard in the late 39th or early 40th millennium, this young chapter was originally tasked with cleansing several worlds on the far fringe of the Segmentum Ultima of a minor xenos threat known as the Grendel. The Grendel, a space-faring race, had been raiding nearby Imperial worlds for human slaves, often disappearing into an uncharted nebula to escape from the retaliatory Imperial Navy strikes. The campaign to purge these worlds was hard fought, a toll which began to way heavily on Chapter Master Achab. After the last of the alien cities was burned he turned the remnants of his fleet onto the nebula the Grendel so liked to skirt, convinced that remnants of the species still lurked somewhere within its depths, and bent on avenging his many fallen brothers. Plunging deep into its heart the fleet became desperately lost, surpassing the meager depths the cowardly aliens had skimmed and instead reaching deep into its core. There they found Mobius, an abandoned asteroid onto which was built an archeotech facility, which became the first Lighthouse. Using this as their base the Star Krakens began to expand outwards, discovering other vessels sunken within the nebula, as well as the only relics this young chapter would ever lay claim to: Huginn, a vast scanning array and Muninn, an ancient depository of hidden knowledge.
Using these tools the chapter found their way back to the edge of the nebula - now referred to as the Deep - and bid their Imperial allies farewell. For Chapter Master Achab had yet to taste his vengeance, and the Kraken's would remain in the Deep until he felt his thirst quenched. For a time they searched, and occasionally emerged from their dark nebula, launching lightning raids on any enemy of man who dared stray too closely to their new home. They began to excel in ship-to-ship actions, making full use of a cache of ancient Breacher Shields, as well as cleverly modifying their weapons so as to best adapt them for clearing actions.
Over time the eleven strike cruisers of the Krakens began to develop unique identities, and as the strain of maintaining codex regularity weighed on the chapter they began to deviate, arming each of their vessels as their Captain saw fit, breaking each company down into more useful tactical formations for their unique environments. They became the masters of the Spinward Deep, resuppyling at Mobius, recruiting from the fringe worlds they had saved centuries earlier, growing strong once more. But no Captain dared venture further, into the trenches and gulleys of the Tailing Deep, and it was here that Chapter Master Achab became convinced the Grendel were hiding. He drew together his finest soldiers, taking for himself the best of the chapters equipment, and disappeared into the Deep. He left behind only a scarce few units of Terminator armour, and ten Captains to squabble amongst themselves over who would next lead the Star Kraken.
Tactics
The Star Krakens are space combat specialists, engaging almost exclusively in ship-to-ship combat and boarding enemy ships. This is made possible by their sizable store of Breacher Siege Squad wargear, found soon after they arrived in the Deep.
As for tactics, they are inspired by the Void Kraken - a monstrous, silicate-based lifeform that makes its home in gigantic asteroids and feeds on minerals therein. The ferocity of the Void Kraken is legendary: if any ship strays too close to the asteroid nest, it will emerge from its home - and tear the vessel apart. So too do the Star Krakens fight - stalking their prey from the darkness of the Deep, then emerging with a furious barrage of cruiser fire, and a great multitude of boarding torpedoes being fired directly at the enemy vessel so the Battle-Brothers may fight the enemy on their home decks.
Relations to Other Races
The Grendel
The Grendel are a minor species of xenos once inhabiting a tiny band of worlds on the far fringe of the Segmentum Ultima. In the late 39th millennium they took to raiding nearby Imperial worlds; stealing weapons, crops and taking imperial citizens to serve as slaves on their bastion homeworlds. Local naval patrols were confounded in their efforts to track or pursue these raiding fleets due to a local phenomena, a dense black nebula which obfuscates all attempts to scan it. The Grendel would skim the surface of this nebula, obscuring their ships from pursuit, only to emerge and strike another world once the navy had retreated. An individual Grendel stands at nearly seven foot, has natural claws that can rend into ceramite and is capable of great feats of natural strength.
The Varangian Guard and the Imperium
Although the majority of Star Kraken operations are concerned with patrolling and protecting the worlds surrounding the Deep - as well as cleansing the Deep of its own internal terrors - the chapter is careful not to neglect its duty to the Imperium at large. To that end the Varangian Guard, a special company of Kraken veterans, serving aboard the Strike Cruiser Holdfast, are on permanent detachment to the Segmentum Ultima. The Holdfast itself is forbidden to enter the Deep, and instead spends time every three years on its fringes, allowing veterans from any of the ten companies to join freely - or to leave freely, if they so desire. This creates an unofficial 'Eleventh Company' of veterans, sometimes only numbering a few combat squads, other times nearing a full one hundred marines, whom serve on foreign battlefields. Only the Captain and his guard are a permanent fixture, men descended from the chapters initial migration into the Deep.
The Varangian Guard have served with distinction in many of the famous theaters of war across the sector, earning the Star Krakens an outstanding reputation for honour and ferocity, and so glorifying the Holdfast that the Captain has begun etching his victories onto the outer hull, due to a scarcity of space within the vessel's great halls.
Writefaggotry!
Achab's Insanity
The Librarian took Achab by the elbow, urging him in a low whisper: "To be so enraged, by nothing but... But a weak xeno. Achab, it is blasphemy." Before the last word had even left his mouth he felt his Lord's arm tense, and a moment later he was violently shaken off. Achab rounded on him, one fist raised as if to strike, his ink-black eyes both seeing him and seeing nothing.
The Chapter-Master began to rant again, starting slow, building in tempo: "Speak not to me of blasphemy, man! I'd strike the Eye of Terror if it insulted me. Look outward, Barsus... All visible objects are nothing more than masks. Some inscrutable yet reasoning thing has molded their features. The Grendel... tasks me. They heap me. Yet they are but a mask. It is the thing behind the mask I hate; the malignant thing that has plagued mankind since time began. The thing that maws and mutilates our race, not killing us outright but letting us live on, with half a heart and half a lung. It is that which I hunt, and we shall not see home again 'til I have it dead at my feet. Hail all ships: Onwards, into the dark heart of the nebula!"
The Fall of Achab
The most important figure in the history of the Star Krakens is also its most reviled. Long ago, when the Star Krakens still had a home, the planet Giraud, a marine by the name of Achab was chosen to be the Chapter Master. A devoted, talented marine, his dedication to the Emperor hid a deeply obsessive nature. As the years went on he focused his attention less on the enemies of the Imperium and more upon those who he believed had besmirched the name of the Star Krakens. Eldar corsairs, Ork freebootas, xenos mercenaries, any who had crossed the path of the Star Krakens and were not completely destroyed. Soon the list expanded to include friendly forces ranging from Guard regiments who struck the decisive blow of victory, Naval fleets whose bombardments ended wars from on high, to other Astartes chapters whose mere presence alongside in battle he saw as an insult to the honor of the Star Krakens. Finally, to the cheers of those ignorant to his true nature, he announced a grand crusade to rid the sector of the enemies of Mankind. The first few years were successful, Ork strongholds shattered, the xenos mercenary bands and their Rogue Trader patrons rooted out, and uprisings and rebellions smashed by the full weight of the chapter. However, several began to doubt Achab's methods as the chapter's losses were slowly outpacing their replenishment. Soon Imperial forces began to feel his wrath as assistance requests were summarily denied, naval operations were disrupted, and even outright fighting between the Star Krakens and other forces erupted for the flimsiest of pretenses. Stretched thin and suffering from logistical problems, the Star Krakens were left weakened and vulnerable. Soon, it's enemies would come.
A most curious event in the history of the galaxy emerged. Eldar corsairs reinforced by mercenary bands joined with Rogue Traders and Ork Freebootas launched raids against the now understrength and isolated Star Kraken battle groups. Overwhelming force and numbers slowly whittled down the Star Krakens as Achab's advisors begged him to retreat and regroup at their homeworld, but Achab refused to call off his crusade. His determination led him to be dragged around the sector by wily foes as they killed his chapter piecemeal. As the losses mounted his obsession grew, promising wild riches and rewards for those who could bring down the cowards who not fight him in open battle. At last dire news reached the flagship; Giraud was under assault. The defensive fleet drifting wrecks, their fortress monastery was under direct attack from the combined forces. Achab ordered all Star Kraken forces to return immediately to Giraud but it was too late. The first ships dropped out of the Warp to witness the fall of the Star Krakens. It's fortress monastery, weapons silent, collapsing upon itself into a heap of rubble; as they watched in horror the combined firepower tore a hole through the crust and unleashed an eruption large enough to blast rocks and dust into orbit. In fire and thunder the planet Giraud ceased to be able to support life. Mad with grief and rage, Achab ordered the remnents of his chapter to follow the enemy fleet. Tracking them to a remote star system, he prepared for them to unleash a final victory upon those who destroyed their homeworld. His lieutenants pleaded with him, showing them sensor readings that indicated it was all a trap but he cast them from his war room and ordered all Star Krakens to prepare for a combined ground/space assault. That final day Achab spoke no words, resplendent in his Terminator armor he strode to the drop pods, his former lieutenants casting their glances aside.
Settling into the drop pod, his former advisers approached him one last time to call it off, to swallow his pride and find a new home for their chapter. He spit at them and cursed their names, stripping them of their honors and ranks. Ordering his troops to their pods, no one made a move. Before he realized what was happening, the doors to his pod closed. Screaming obscenities through his vox, he pounded futilely at the walls of his pod as the marines, with heavy hearts, launched him, and him alone to the enemy encampment below. Throughout his descent he never stopped cursing the Star Krakens, claiming them all to be cowards, useless little men playing soldier while he alone knew the glory and responsibility. After what seemed like hours the pod touched down and his curses and swearing gave way to rage-fueled gibberish and gunfire. The fight was brief, it's end signaled by the cruel laughter and taunts of Tarellian Dogs. As the remnents of the once mighty Star Kraken fleet turned to leave the system, the honeyed and belittling tongue of an Eldar captain sung through the vox system. Endlessly he mocked the Star Krakens for their failures and tried to provoke their wrath by insinuating the humiliations that would be visited upon the corpse of their Chapter Master. With a heavy heart, Jehu, the first of Achab's lieutenants to ask him to turn his crusade aside, told the Eldar to do what he wished with the corpse and the relics contained on the body. There was no glory contained within them anymore, no valorous history, only the story of the madman who had made them orphans.
Teuthys Addresses the Drowned
They stood in almost complete darkness, silent save for the subtle rustling and shifting of their armour plate and mechadendrites. The vast launch bay was almost totally unlit save for the eerie glow of the Chaplain's armour, it's bioluminescent engravings wavering and shifting like moonlight through seawater.
"Remember!", Chaplain Teuthys whispered, his voice rippling through the silence.
"Remember Achab. Remember his sins. He was weak. He succumbed to obsession. He succumbed to the desire for vengeance. He succumbed to warlust, and his passion weighed him down like a great stone.
Achab drowned himself! Achab nearly drowned his chapter with his hubris. But we, the pure... We do not drown. Our lungs are full of saltwater and our eyes stare into the dark. We do not down. WE RISE."
The air reverberated with the slow moaning rumble of the Dreadnoughts as they sang the Hymn to the Deep.
The Freyrsvero
An ancient Dominator-class cruiser, the Freyrsvero was found adrift in the nebula, nonfunctional and with no crew, living or dead, onboard. Years were spent repairing the ship to add to the Kraken's fleet. However, the machine spirits that inhabited the vessel had gone mad and the ship attempted to attack any vessel or facility within range regardless of commands given. The ship was mothballed and the techmarines and bonded techpriests of the Star Krakens spent three centuries attempting to appease the spirits without avail. The ship sat unpowered and unmanned until the renegade fleet of Admiral Zyou Gunthrop, declared Excommunicate Traitoris for her iconoclasm, approached the nebula intent on capturing Huginn and Muninn. Outnumbered three to one in ships, the Krakens crewed and rearmed the Freyrsvero and set it in the path of the oncoming fleet. Backed by the Star Kraken fleet and their death song on their lips, the Freyrsvero roared to life. With the Lighthouse beacon disabling approaching enemy vessels, the Freyrsvero wreaked havoc upon the escort vessels of the Iconoclast fleet before plunging at Gunthrop's flagship, Judgment's Contempt.
The flagship's guns shattered the Freyrsvero's void shields and it's lances burned gouges deep within it's armor. As the rest of the Kraken's fleet watched helplessly, entangled in combat with the enemy forces, as the Freyrsvero was slowly blown apart; it's weapon decks ripped open by macrocannon fire as its crew burned alive in the wash of plasma flames. Deep within the dying systems the machine spirits let loose one last scream of hatred and fury and plunged the Freyrsvero into the Judgment's Contempt. Her armored prow split open the armor of the Judgment's Contempt like an axe upon bare flesh. As she shuddered to a stop the remaining Nova Cannon shells in her magazines were detonated, vaporizing a full quarter of the Judgment's Contempt's mass and knocking it out of the fight.
Wotan Hamiltonius
To those new to the Star Krakens Sixth Company, the aura of awe and reverence that surrounds Techmarine Wotan Hamiltonius seems to have no basis. He is small for a Marine, mild-mannered and completely blind, rejecting any occular implants. Those veterans who remember the Battle of Aegir's Shoal are quick to correct any misconceptions. The Shoal's Imperial outposts were under heavy attack from a Tyranid splinter fleet, and the Kraken fleet rushed to their aid. During the resulting battle, the Lighthouse suffered heavy damage. Pulling back from the field, it was pursued by an aggressive Tyranid suicide-ship, intent on clinging to the ship and dragging it down to oblivion. While in the process of making repairs to the limping Battle-Barge, Hamiltonius was dragged overboard by a gravity current, his helmet torn off by a near-mortal impact with the edge of the hull. Decompression set in rapidly, and his comrades thought him lost as his body drifted into the path of the damaged Lighthouse's flickering beam. As the dying Techmarine crossed the beam, however, his Machine-spirits called out to Huginn and the ancient machine responded. The energy of the beam enervated him, and casting off his helmet Hamiltonius drifted alone in space, blood pouring from the sockets where his occular implants had overloaded.
What happened next is a matter of hearsay, but the most prevalent rumor is that the Tech-Marine rode the beam directly at the heart of the Tyranid beast, tearing it to shreds with his armoured fists. Though Hamiltonius refuses to comment on the Battle of Aegir's Shoal, to this day he seems perfectly comfortable in a vacuum without a helmet, and shows greater agility and dexterity while blind than most of his fully-sighted battle-brothers do.
A Meeting with the Ancient Mariner
Audvald didn't know what to think, as the vessel filled the view screen. It was old and dilapidated, but the name was still as bold in it's burnished gold as it was in life. The Albatross, Asylum for the Ancient Mariner.
His boots echoed upon the tarnished decks of the once proud vessel, he could only imagine that clamor of thralls and astartes going about their business. Now? Only the slight creaking of the worn grav-plates.
"Why are you here, young Kraken? Have you come to hear of glories old... or glories anew?" There was a single man sitting upon the command throne, huddled and skeletal. The Ancient Mariner. The old captain of the Albatross. Sightless eyes gazed at Audvald.
"I see you, young Kraken. I see who you might be. I see you taking a foolish path, the first step visiting this tomb." He laughed, a raspy sound that echoed in the chamber.
"Oh, but the glory that would be yours! The honours that would be heaped upon you! Songs will be sung of your deeds. But..." He turned his head to the side. "That path does not see you living through the century. But you are at a fork in a road, two paths divergent. The other path, I see silver and black. I see hideous monsters who's baying cries you answer with the silent of the Deeps. Savior of the Imperium, time and time again... but with no one to know." He stroked his chin, once more looking at Audvald.
"Hnnn... what do you choose? Glory and death... or servitude and life. It does not matter. My throat is dry and I tire of your continued presence. Leave this place, you have your Rime."
The Depth-crossing Ritual
Heisen eyed off the big man, one of a dozen marines the Kraken had assigned to mind him during their voyage aboard the Battle Barge Herlov. This particular marine had introduced himself as Dansk, but to Heisen they all looked alike; skin so pale as to be alabaster, inky black eyes totally devoid of white, hair, when present, little more than a tuft of ashen blonde. Heisen had started sorting them into two categories: Friendly and unfriendly. So far Dansk was squarely in the unfriendly category. "How much longer until we're in your territory?" Heisen asked, Dansk sighed deeply and responded without turning to face him. "Look out of the viewport, Inquisitor. What do you see?" Heisen glanced out, seeing the usual speckling of white stars on the vast black canvas of the void. "Nothing." Heisen said, with irritation, "I don't see anything." "Look again, Inquisitor. This time with your eyes." He glared at the marine, and looked again out of the viewport. For the briefest flicker of a moment he saw the. visage, the stars against the black. Then it dissapated, his eyes watered slightly, and something deep within his psyche twinged. Then he saw it. The stars were an illusion, painted in by his minds eye and his expectations. What he actually saw was; "Nothing." Heisen's voice was hushed, struck by some terrifying awe, "I don't see anything." "We sank into the Deep an hour ago" Dansk rumbled. They sat in silence after that, Heisen staring wildly out the viewport, desperately attempting to discern any detail in the black. There was nothing: no stars, no light, not even the roiling whisp of one nebulous cloud against another.
A deep hum interrupted his thoughts, a bass trembling which seemed to reverberate through the ship's hull, and through his bones, splitting his head with it's resonate ductility. "What the hell is that?" Heisen suddenly became fearful, "a void kraken?!" "Were it a void kraken we'd already be dead." Dansk tilted his head, "No, it is my Brother-Captain, blowing the horn of hale. He's calling the company together." "Why?" the sound was rapidly decreasing, and with it Heisen's primal fear seemed to evaporate, "Are we under attack?" "My brothers and I must meet. We have a... Tradition." "You mean a ritual?" this was it, exactly what he'd been looking for. Evidence of this chapters deviant nature. "Two words with the same meaning." Dansk moved to the door, his sea green robe swishing gently on the deckplate. "Deciding that is really more my field of expertise." Heisen rose up imperiously, and put on his most commanding voice, an imitation of one he'd heard Lord Gaelan use many times to great effect, "Marine, I will accompany you and observe these rituals." "It would be best for you to remain here." Dansk opened the door and stepped through it, and then tossed back over his shoulder, "You would not survive the experience." The door slammed shut on Heisen, sealing him in with his indignant rage. He took a moment to calm and reflect. Heisen had a lot riding on this venture, he'd put his meager reputation on the line, thrown himself at the mercy of his lord, begged for the chance to uncover the heretical secrets he was sure the Star Kraken hid. It'd began with paperwork, following a requisition trail which began to point to an uncomfortable, but undeniable, truth: the Kraken were overstrength.
Not just by a combat squad or two, either, no that would be forgivable... At best he estimated they were overstrength by several companies. Worse, as he'd delved deeper he'd uncovered more and more: long exposure to xenos presence without inquisitorial guidance, an insane Chapter Master, possibly touched by ruinous powers, several grand pieces of archeotech they never offered to relinquish, strange rituals aboard their ships and unconventional company tactics on the battlefield... His lord had raised an eyebrow when Heisen laid this out, pointed out the Kraken's long history of loyalty, that all marine companies had their peculiarities, that the tech-priests of Mars had been repeatedly granted access to the array, only to have each Magos driven mad by the nature of the Deep which so dampened technological senses. The door was locked. Apparently Dansk had been really determined to keep him from attending their ritual. Rage surged inside him again, and he swung wildly at the control panel, battering his hands, bloodying his knuckles. Then, to his surprise, the panel sloughed off, exposing the mechanism beneath. With a silent prayer of thanks he began to rewire the lock. Biting back on the urge to scream out of frustration as he shocked himself. Heisen had wanted to scream then too, and belt his lord across the mouth. Instead he had shuddered and pleaded. In the end they had agreed on one point: if the Star Kraken were overstrength, they'd have to be chastised. That was it. No orders to assess their loyalty, nor to search for warp taint or question their actions. Just do a head count and come home. How could he be so blind? Couldn't he see? This chapter had to be quashed, before they had the strength to oppose the will of the Emperor... Like those Fenrisian bastards.
Something gave in the panel, and with a groan the door swung open a few inches before freezing in place. Heisen wasted no time, immediately squeezing himself into the gap, indelicately shimmying through, uncomfortably aware of the pressure of the door on his ribcage, and that at any moment the machine spirit might recover from whatever shock he'd dealt it and crush him effortlessly. He took no time to luxuriate in relief once he tumbled out into the corridor. The horn was blowing again, whatever cultish practice these heretics were engaged in would soon begin. He got to his feet and began to jog slowly, getting his bearings, looking for a divide in the corridor he'd always been rushed past. They'd trodden these labyrinthine corridors around his stateroom many times in the last few weeks, he and whatever marine handler had been guiding him. Somehow, no matter how random his chosen course, he always wound up back at his stateroom, with his minder smugly asking him if he was satisfied with this tour. The forbidden corridor, which he'd always been patronizingly guided away from - 'for his own safety' -quickly opened up onto a great hall, towering several decks high. Above his head, strung up to the roof, was the corpse of some great beast. Its body was an inky black, shot through with deep red veins, and from its maw spawned hundreds of tendrils, smaller versions of the powerful tentacles suspended around the monstrosity, each so long it had to be looped back on itself several times just to fit inside the chamber. A void kraken. Just an infant, too, if the reports he'd read were true.
The walls of the modified room - a temple, a mess, a museum? Heisen couldn't tell - were also resplendid with artwork and trophies.He moved slowly through the hall, inspecting each mural. They seemed to be a rough history of the company, each mural depicting a victory over some foe, punctuated at various points by twisted fragments of hull taken from the defeated vessel. Heisen paused, and looked up again at the corpse of the infant kraken. Were these marines simply celebrating their history, or were they dedicating each fallen enemy to the kraken? Had they fallen to idolatry and started worshiping their namesake instead of the God-Emperor? Heisen felt, with increasing certainty, that the latter was true. On the far side of the hall one particular display caught his eye. The etching depicted a vile xeno, one of the fragile beings he'd recently learned were named 'eldar,' standing on the bridge of a burning vessel, a sword held gracefully in each hand. Against him stood a Star Kraken, breach shield as tall as he was raised in defenae, a chain axe held ready to swing. The next few images showed their clash, with the eldar finally falling to his knees before the Kraken in supplication, head hanging low as the marine was depicted in the middle of a great overhand blow, preparing to behead the vile creature. Beside this, bolted to wall, was a segment of hull. It was totally unlike the others... It looked smooth, unmarked by weld marks or burn damage, as if it had simply snapped off under pressure. Heisen, fascinated, reached out to touch it--uld be seen but not seen a vessel lurking in the depths of the nebulae try to warn corsair but cannot show see impact impact impact it lurches out of the darkness latched on by unbreakable cables tipped with boarding vessels mon'keigh inside us slaughtering the precious cargo impact impact air venting fires inside corsair no quarter given impact impact fear as more board impa-
-Heisen became aware that he was convulsing, twitching on the ground at the foot of the foul fragment of alien hull, his hand throbbing painfully. He looked at it, and bit back a whimper as he saw the charred, melted flesh of his fingers. He put aside questions of the chapters loyalty then and there. No Emperor loving loyal servant of the Imperium would keep something so dangerous, so alien, so... heretical around. Let alone display it! The horn sounded a third, and, he felt, final, time. He hauled himself to his feet and, cradling his ruined hand, and limped in what he was fairly certain was the direction of the source of the noise: the barges reliquary. He rounded the corner just as they were lowering the blast door. Heisen broke into a desperate lope and threw himself under the door, skidding into the chamber and immediately throwing himself behind a statue depicting the Emperor. He held his breath, listening, waiting for shouts of alarm, but nothing came. And then it did. Like voices raised in a rapturous hymn without words, a deep, melodious humming. Heisen risked a peek, and, assured that the marines were all facing away from him, he began counting them. As one last man, a huge man with long grey hair, a swatch of metal bolted over one eye, stepped up to the altar, Heisen amended his count: one hundred and ninety three. Almost two companies worth. If each of the Kraken's ten battle barges were equally as well manned the chapter was more than guilty of exceeding the codex stipulations. Heisen collapsed back against the statue, cradling his hand and fighting back hot tears of vindication. Lord Gaelan would see now. They'd all thank him, honour him, the young Inquisitor who prevented another civil war.
At that moment the marine with one eye, the Captain, Heisen realised, began to speak: "Brothers, we cross once more, from the Emperor's light to the darkness of the deeps." "Emperor protect us." a cacophony of voices replied. "We honour him, and pray that he guides us, our ultimate lighthouse in these murky depths." "Emperor guide us." "Watch over us, and guard as from the insanity of the Deep, as we purify ourselves once more in the void! For we return once more, We: the kraken in the deep!" "In darkness we dwell!" the marines intoned solemnly. Heisen frowned. That sounded awfully pious for a bunch of idol worshipers. He prepared to stand and confront the marines, when an almighty hiss erupted in the chamber. They were venting the air into space! They had known he was here all along, and were attempting to kill him to guard their secret! Heisen roared to his feet and began to yell, but no sound emerged. Or maybe it emerged, but there was no longer any air to carry it. The Star Kraken stood, eyes closed to a man, arms raised above their heads as a section of the dome on the hull retracted, exposing the chamber to hard vaccuum. Heisen felt his skin boil, and his vision began to swim. Deep inside a hatred burned, and he latched onto it. Embraced it. He grasped ahold of the handle on the pressure sealed blast door and gripped it tightly, his will to live fed by his hatred. Once they restored the atmosphere he would declare them traitors! Heretics! They couldn't remain in vacuum for long, he just had to hold on. He would excommunicate the chapter! Order them hunted and purged in every sector! His vision went dark, and something wet slid down his cheek, but the hatred inside him propelled him. He would strike them from every record! So decimate them that even the Fenresian's would remember their fear of the Inquisition! Heretics!
Heretics!
"This is most unfortunate." Captain Isaias bent over the young man frozen stiff against the door, touching his face gently, "An awful way to die." "It may have been fortuitous, Brother-Captain." Dansk pushed his way to the front of the crowd, all murmuring as they observed the dead boy, "I sensed he bore us much ill will." "Look at his face!" another said, "Thats not a rictor of pain, it is hate. Hate unadulterated. He could have caused us much damage." "Better he die like this, a sneak and a spy as he truly was, than dead by our hands!" Dansk yelled, to a wave of agreement. "No." Isaias picked the boy up effortlessly, and laid him out on a nearby pew, attempting to close his eyelids over empty sockets, "No, it is better that he had lived, so that we might win him over and send him home. The Inquisition are like the krill upon which the kraken feed: kill one, and the brood spawns a hundred more to replace the loss." The marines shifted uneasily, finally one asked, "What shall we do?" "Signal Commodore Achab, recall the fleet. We shall have a convocation... Perhaps we have been lax. We cannot function as ten islands, it makes us weak: in our duties, in ourselves and to the codex." "What about the body of the Inquisitor?" Dansk asked, as the marines began departing. "Burn it." Isaias replied after a time, "Burn it, and deny we ever received him. We take care of our own."
The origins of the Mariner
"Be careful of what you slay, lest the Warp rise up to the Deep and becalm you amidst your sins" -The Ancient Mariner
Such is the Mariners way of referring to the incident when a large ship of unknown origin, designated as the Falcon, was destroyed. It's destruction is believed to have been the cause of the ruination of the 1st company, which left only the Mariner and his squad alive. Becalmed in the warp, the 1st company Strike Cruiser was forced to wait till the tides came through their portion of the Deep once more. Sitting in realspace as they were, many foes beset them. The Mariner has yet to state how many foes attacked, nor how long the 1st company remained stuck. In truth, the 1st company had destroyed a small, weak craftworld that had allied itself with Biel-Tan, and was hoping to establish an exodite world in the Deep. Incensed at the destruction of what could've been a new hope for the Eldar, Biel-Tan attacked the company till the warp tides allowed the Mariner and his squad to flee, learning as the Biel-Tan taunted them what they had done to deserve such pain. As the ship flew through the warp with its damaged geller field, the Mariner lamented over his sin.
That very same sin caused him to be ostracized, for when he returned he brought the Biel-Tan with him. Now the chapter must be wary they do not fall into the traps of the eldar even as they plan their own ambushes. Over time, the chapter aged and forgot what the Mariner had done, but he remembers, and remains aboard his ship, a great golden aquilla hanging from his neck
Characters
Commodore Achab
The deceased Commodore of the Star Krakens. Nearly brought ruin to the chapter, reducing them from a 1500-man overstrength chapter to a brotherhood of barely 800 souls through his insane and suicidal campaigns. Died after being abandoned by the chapter.
The Mariner
The captain of the Albatross, a Star Kraken vessel that was lost and presumed destroyed. Years later it returned, the only survivor it's captain, who was discovered amidst the bodies of his brothers, who had died gruesome deaths fighting creatures of the Warp to protect their Captain. The Mariner is said to catch glimpses of the future through his madness, and initiates visit the haunted shell of the Albatross to hear his predictions.
Wotan Hamiltonius
Wotan is the techmarine hero and revered engineer of the Star Krakens. Although completely blind and without ocular implants, it is said he fights as well as any of his sighted brethren.
Mokoyll The Destroyer
Mokoyll is amongst the oldest of the veterans of the Star Krakens, having earned his veteran's mechadendrites centuries ago. He sits as the First Company's representative on the Ten-Flag Council. Mokoyll is a leviathan of a man, tall even for a space marine. His left eye is replaced with a ceramite plate from the hull of the ship "Reckless Vengeance", a reaver whose captain took Mokoyll's eye away from him after a well timed attack with his rapier.
His trademark equipment includes the relic hammer which he has dubbed Alffinnur, which he retrieved from the wreckage of a world under his first command, as well as his heavily customised tactical dreadnought armour. He has adorned his armour with additional ablative ceramite plating from the numerous ships he has breached with his company, along with decorations using the bio-luminescent markings common among the chapter's decorations.
See Also
Gallery
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Earliest design, found in OP for second thread. Shows mild indications of heretical designs (horns, overly organic looking ornamentation)
