The Iron Architect

Some primarchs fell in a long, inevitable arc, visible from miles away with the end very clear. Others fell merely for want of a nail. Perturabo was one of the latter.

His life was very much like what you have heard about it elsewhere. He awoke climbing a cliff on the planet Olympia, with no episodic memories. He was taken in by the ruler of the nearest city, Dammekos the Tyrant, and given all the outward honors of the Tyrant’s foster-son. All but his foster-sister Calliphone were venal and greedy, and his unhidden disdain for them made him disdained in turn, even as his talents for engineering, strategy, and siegecraft made Dammekos lord of more and more of the planet’s surface.

All the while, he was troubled by an image that floated in the sky day and night. A massive, ugly tear in the universe, it looked like. Always floating in the same place relative to the fixed stars. No one else acknowledged it; to admit it would make him seem mad, and he refused to give the court that pleasure. But one evening, watching a meteor shower with Calliphone, he confided what he saw in her. She admitted that it sounded mad, but continued "You see many ideas others think impossible and prove their reality to us all; if you see impossible things as well, who am I to say you are not correct in this as well?"

This understanding deepened his regard for her further, and from that point his biographers say he kept no secrets from her at all. Whether it was spurred by their relationship or not, Olympian historians note a significant change in the degree to which he challenged the tasks and orders of Dammekos and his other nominal commanders starting around the time his biography places the meteor shower. He fought the court for his autonomy, and repeatedly raised the prospect that if he chose to cease serving the government they could not force him.

This changed little until the day that great starships descended from the sky and he met his gene-father, the Emperor. He spoke with Him for nearly an hour, and then immediately went to the throne room of the now-planetary-Tyrant Dammekos. His ultimatum was simple: step down, or be cut down. His allegiance had been superseded by a greater and more worthy father.

Perturabo himself transcribed the exchange that followed, not long after the fact.

"How dare you? Lochos is mine! You-"

"True. Lochos is yours, and yours it will remain."

The Tyrant stopped mid-breath, looking puzzled.

"But the rest of Olympia I conquered, and as it was my hand that entrusted it to you, it will be my hand that entrusts it elsewhere. Calliphone, are you here?"

"I am, brother. Is this wise?"

"I am bound away to secure other worlds, and I need good hands to govern Olympia. I can think of none better than yours. Do you want the governor’s seat?"

"A woman! You can’t-"

"I can and I will. If not my foster-sister, some other capable woman. The Empire of Humanity cares not for your parochial prejudices, and you have said yourself she is the most able of your children. Call?"

"I…Of course, brother. Thank you."

"It is the least I could do. Though there is a bit more; you’ll need an honor guard, and my gene-father has given me ten thousand suitable warriors. Allow me to introduce you to them."

It is believed that his relationship with Calliphone was crucial in how he initially related to his legion. The reputation he earned with his brothers with his first speech was striking:

"It is not enough, my sons, to take the duty assigned to you and carry it out with efficiency and grace. You must shape your own destiny. To be only the flawless instrument of another is to be an empty machine, without soul or intelligence. In this, you have failed to live up to your potential. You must learn this, but it cannot be taught. You must teach yourselves. I can only push you.

Here is that push. Each company of 100 throughout the legion must devise a plan to escape this trap. You have one standard year. Each company that cannot convince me their plan is sound, shall be decimated in the ancient Terran tradition. And will then, again, have one standard year. So go, and make war. But also make me proud. Go forth, and prove that you are not Corpse Grinders but my worthy Iron Sages."

This re-founding of his legion, and the terrible penalty he levied on those seventeen companies who failed to live up to expectations, made a drastic change to the combat doctrine, culture, and morale of the legion. Surprisingly, the reaction in morale was uniformly strongly positive.

At Ullanor, the Emperor announced that he would retire from the field, bringing Magnus with him to work on a "project of great importance". Soon afterward, Roboute Guilliman reclaimed the Realm of Ultramar and declared it independent of the empire, his pride stung badly by being passed over for Warmaster. Where Vulkan’s Salamanders acted as knights-errant with no hostility to the Empire, the Ultramarines were a rival crusade from the outset; the Emperor decided to take steps to contain it. Rogal Dorn was named Praetorian of Terra to fortify it against the possibility of invasion, and Perturabo was tasked with building a Segmentum-wide line to fence in Ultramar, with the title of Vigilus Marchensis.

While the Iron Architect was greatly disappointed not to be entrusted with Terra, where his beloved Renaissance masters had lived and where he could have studied their work and art first-hand, this disappointment was assuaged significantly by the opportunity to demonstrate his might and siegecraft against the mightiest fiefdom any of his brothers amassed. He planned a great series of fortifications, and the Sages-built Iron Line cut Ultramar off from Segmenta Tempestus and Solar. It stood through the entire Heresy indefatigable, and has been breached only a few times in the following millennia.

Unfortunately, before he extended his wall toward Segmentum Obscurus and his bête noire the Eye of Terror, the Heresy War began. Betrayed, outnumbered, and unnerved on Isstvan V, he carried out a rearguard action that let all his loyal brothers escape, despite their forces being outnumbered almost three to one. It is said that as he fought, he shouted his defiance, repeating what became known later as the Iron Litany:

From Iron cometh Strength. From Strength cometh Will. From Will cometh Faith. From Faith cometh Honor. From Honor cometh Iron.

These words remain the polestar of the Iron Sages. They added to them a second litany, the Steel Litany, honoring his sacrifice:

From Steel cometh Power. From Power cometh Duty. From Duty cometh Sacrifice. From Sacrifice cometh Steel.

The reputation of these litanies is mighty indeed. While reciting them, many Sages are said to be gripped by a mighty battle meditation, ignoring all injury, striking every weak point of their opponent’s defense at precisely the correct moment, or fighting without rest for weeks on end.

Submitted February 10, 2019 at 11:00PM by VorpalAuroch http://bit.ly/2DsjC9I