Chapter 2: Arriving Late to the Party
[ACCESSING DATASLATE: FORGE WORLD TEYEDAN]
NAME: Teyedan
SEGMENTUM: Ultima Segmentum (Eastern Fringe)
SECTOR: Far East Sector (Imperial Frontier)
SYSTEM: Teyedan System
POPULATION: 30,000,000
ALLEGIANCE: Imperium of Man / Adeptus Mechanicus
TYPE: Forge World
PRODUCTS: Class I (Primary Imperial Tithe Grade)
TITHE GRADE: Aptus Non, Tithe-Exempt by Regent's Decree
The life of Archmagos Teydanis Veyl, the first Fabricator-General of the Forge World of Teyedan, was without a doubt both brilliant and legendary.
Born the youngest son of a noble family on Macragge itself, the home world of the Ultramarines, Veyl's life was one of privilege and ease—right up until the moment he failed to be chosen as an aspirant for the Chapter.
His family's lineage boasted several names carved upon the walls of the Ultramarines' Hall of Heroes, and so for the young Veyl, who had been raised on tales of family honor, this rejection was a crushing blow.
However, leveraging their immense wealth and connections, Veyl's parents secured him another path: a chance to become a grand-disciple to a powerful Archmagos of the Adeptus Mechanicus.
During his studies, Veyl's performance, when compared to his peers, was mediocre at best. He was so unremarkable that he earned the nickname "The Cornerstone" for his slow, stubborn pace.
But everything changed after he completed his studies—taking three times longer than anyone else—and, with his parents' funding, acquired a heavily modified Razor-class frigate for use as an explorator vessel.
First, through sheer luck, he unearthed several fragmented STC templates from the ruins of a remote feral world. Recognizing that his own knowledge was insufficient to repair them, the then-ordinary Tech-Priest Veyl displayed a boldness uncommon among his fellow cog-heads, who would have hoarded such a find. He immediately ran to his master and presented the fragments as a gift.
His reward was support for two more explorator ships, allowing him to form his own small fleet. Through this success, Veyl discovered his true talent: I'm no good at academic research, but I'm number one when it comes to opportunity and logistics!
From that day on, Veyl began his unorthodox career.
Beyond standard archeological digs, when he encountered a ruin-world guarded by powerful foes, Veyl didn't hide the information and retreat. Instead, he would broadcast the discovery, calling upon friends and rivals alike, charging a handsome information fee and negotiating a share of the profits beforehand.
When he encountered Imperial forces in need—be they Space Marine Chapters, Astra Militarum regiments, Rogue Traders, or planetary nobility—he would offer generous aid, so long as it didn't endanger his own fleet. The rewards for his "loyalty" were always most pleasing. He wandered the galaxy, trading local specialties and rare materials wherever he went.
Over the centuries, the title others used for him changed as his explorator fleet grew.
Tech-Priest Veyl became Magos Veyl, who then became Archmagos Veyl.
His explorator ship became an explorator fleet, which then became a full-fledged Ark Mechanicus.
Time moved to the end of the 41st Millennium. By now, Archmagos Veyl was in the Eastern Fringe, squaring off against the rapidly expanding, blue-skinned xenos known as the T'au Empire. Veyl was certain that some of their technology would be of great interest to the plasma-addicts on Ryza and the xeno-tech heretics on Stygies VIII.
Just as his plans were about to bear fruit, Cadia fell. The Great Rift tore across the galaxy, and the resulting warp storms nearly claimed Veyl and his entire Ark Mechanicus.
After a harrowing escape from the empyrean, he learned that the Black Legion had laid siege to his home world of Macragge. They swore they would drag his personal hero, the master of logistics himself, the Primarch Roboute Guilliman, from his stasis field and desecrate his corpse.
This, Veyl could not tolerate. He began repairs while making way, promising immense bonuses and distributing vast stores of materiel to inspire his crew and priests. He pushed his ships to their absolute limit, risking hull integrity for every ounce of speed on the journey to Macragge.
The most secret and powerful treasures from his Ark's vaults, relics that had never seen the light of day, were ordered to be brought out and prepared for war. The Tech-Priests, junior and senior alike, were so excited they practically leaked sacred unguents, chanting praises to the Omnissiah.
By the time he arrived at Macragge, the space battle was a chaotic maelstrom. The Black Legion had already made planetfall and had begun slaughtering Veyl's kinsmen.
Seated upon the throne of his Ark Mechanicus, Archmagos Veyl gave a single, simple order: "Damn the consequences. Open fire!"
With his void shields flaring under the incoming lance strikes and macro-cannon shells, he rammed his Ark Mechanicus into low orbit. He battered the Black Legion fleet while unleashing orbital bombardments on the traitors below, simultaneously deploying his ground forces into the meat grinder of the battlefield.
It was a stark reminder to never underestimate the firepower of an Archmagos. You never know what forbidden treasures are hidden in the vaults of his Ark, especially an Archmagos who built his empire on logistics and trade, not academic prestige.
Miniature vortex torpedoes, neutron beams, graviton bombs, disintegrator fields, xenos combat drones, entire maniples of Kastelan Robots, and relic-grade teleporters used to launch boarding parties directly onto enemy ships, led by what looked suspiciously like silica animus... Veyl held nothing back.
Seeing red, the Archmagos was fully prepared to ram his own Ark into the enemy flagship if the situation became irreversible.
But thankfully, the Emperor's Thirteenth Son, the Lord of the 500 Worlds of Ultramar, the Primarch himself... stood up again!
The moment the news was confirmed, Archmagos Veyl knew one thing: I, your Archmagos, am about to strike it rich!
Then he learned that the man who revived the Primarch was his own master's master, his grand-master: Archmagos Belisarius Cawl.
Oh-ho-ho... Loyalty truly is its own reward!
After the battle, the loyal son of Macragge, Teydanis Veyl, was granted a five-minute audience with the Primarch. While waiting to be summoned, Veyl did not forget to kiss up to his grand-master Cawl, prostrating himself with a sycophantic grace that was almost an art form.
The other Magi present gnashed their teeth in envy. It should be noted that among the Magi accompanying Cawl was Veyl's own former master. Of course, his master was still several orders of magnitude more knowledgeable than Veyl, but to this day, he still didn't have his own Ark Mechanicus. Cawl, for his part, looked upon Veyl—the fastest-rising and most successful of his many disciples—with considerable favor. Most importantly, he was loyal.
During his audience with the Primarch, Veyl expressed his adoration for Guilliman, spoke of his family's honor, and professed his deep love for his home world of Macragge.
Guilliman expressed his pleasure that Macragge could produce a man of Veyl's talents. He explained that the 500 Worlds were in ruins and he could not immediately reward Veyl's loyalty, but hoped Veyl would continue to support his future plans.
Archmagos Veyl immediately performed a thirteen-point prostration (including his mechadendrites) and presented a data-slate. On it was a detailed record of every last Throne gelt in his coffers, every relic in his vaults, the full production capacity of his Ark, and every favor owed to him by Imperial dignitaries.
"Loyalty is the only reward I need, Lord Regent!" Veyl declared.
Guilliman was extremely pleased. He personally helped the Archmagos to his feet, gave a few verbal criticisms of some of the more... questionable... archeotech on the list, and declared that Archmagos Veyl was a selfless and devoted comrade. But loyalty must be rewarded, and "a Guilliman always pays his debts."
Later, in several private conversations with Cawl, Guilliman remarked more than once, "You cog-heads really know how to hide your toys. Whatever else you're hiding from me, you'd better hand it over now. The fate of the Imperium is at stake."
Cawl simply replied that, after living for ten thousand years in a mortal body, his memory wasn't what it used to be, and he'd have to think about it.
From the reconquest of Ultramar, to the Terran Crusade, and later the Indomitus Crusade and the Plague Wars, Archmagos Veyl was always at the forefront, following the Lord Regent's every command.
It was during this time of constant war that Regent Guilliman declared in a High Lords meeting that the "blue-skinned T'au Empire" on the border of his home of Ultramar was a rapidly growing and dangerous threat. They were no ordinary xenos and must be struck down with overwhelming force.
The other High Lords countered that while the Indomitus Crusade had successfully reclaimed half the Imperium, the bulk of their forces were now committed to the battle for the Nachmund Gauntlet—the only stable passage to the other side of the Great Rift. They also had to defend their existing territory. They urged the Regent to reconsider.
The opening of the Cicatrix Maledictum had hit the Imperium hard. Half of the Imperium's worlds were cut off from Terra. Cries for help echoed from world after world, beset by xenos invasions, heretical uprisings, and daemonic incursions.
For the Imperial high command, the questions were endless. What was on the other side of the Great Rift? Did those human worlds still exist? Was the massive warp storm a stable barrier, or the leading edge of a tempest that would consume the rest of the galaxy?
The most navigable route through the storm was named the Nachmund Gauntlet. It was a narrow corridor, yet vast enough for two fleets to pass each other unnoticed. Countless souls lived within the Gauntlet, a ravaged region of space that had become a haven for pirates, renegades, mutants, criminals, and every breed of xenos. It was hostile territory.
The war for the Nachmund Gauntlet was of paramount importance, and Guilliman knew better than anyone just how fragile the Imperium Sanctus truly was. Ultramar had to be secured. It was the final bastion, the backup plan, the Third Imper—
He had to prepare for the worst.
These were thoughts he could not speak aloud. To maintain the fragile balance of power, he could not say anything that might be misinterpreted by the Imperium's fractious factions. Damn it all, ten thousand years have passed and they still call me ambitious. I'm the Lord Regent! What more could I want? To pull the Emperor off the Golden Throne and sit on it myself?
How can I fix the Imperium with these parasites?
Guilliman thought of the recent reports of a plague discovered in Ultramar, and a sense of dread washed over him.
The meeting with the High Lords devolved into bickering. One side argued that the T'au were a grave potential threat. The other side quoted an Ordo Xenos report: the T'au possessed only 4,400 colony worlds. Compared to the Imperium's million worlds (before the Rift), it was a rounding error. "A minor xenos infection," they called it, "a rash that can be scratched away once the Imperium has caught its breath."
One side argued that the more time they were given, the higher the price would be later. The other argued that the T'au were on the very edge of the Astronomican's light, a wild frontier where conquering and governing was more trouble than it was worth.
Finally, Guilliman presented the solution he had prepared all along. A new joint command would be established in the Far East Sector, led by the Inquisition, the Departmento Munitorum, and the Administratum, to marshal local resources and contain all xenos threats in the region.
Furthermore, he requested that Mars approve the founding of a new Forge World, with their support, to upgrade the armaments of the region. And the Regent himself designated Archmagos Veyl as its Fabricator-General.
Terra would have no new financial deficits. The Inquisition, Munitorum, and Administratum got a new slice of the pie. Mars expanded the glory of the Machine God. Archmagos Veyl got his own Forge World. Everyone was happy.
So who, exactly, paid the price?
It didn't matter. Archmagos Veyl wasn't concerned with such trivialities. He only knew that he was a Fabricator-General, lord of his own Forge World. The rewards for bootlicking the Regent were so immense that he would often find himself chuckling foolishly in the middle of his work.
This, in turn, led the Magi who were envious of Veyl to give him various nicknames behind his back: "The Fool-Magos," "The Regent's Hound," "The Trader-Priest."
Did Archmagos Veyl know? Yes. And the feeling of "they can't get rid of me, and they still have to work for me" was very, very good. His spine, backed by such powerful patrons, simply couldn't bend to acknowledge such 'lesser Magi'.
"If you have time to complain, you have not yet reached your limit."
—Teydanis Veyl, Fabricator-General of Teydan.
And so, the new Forge World was founded on a planet rich in geothermal energy in the Far East. Archmagos Veyl personally melted the surface to lay the first rivet, and he named the planet: Teyedan.
Time flew. The Imperium remained plagued by disaster. In the Plague War, if not for the Emperor's divine intervention burning away the garden of the Great Enemy of Chaos, the Regent himself might have perished.
The good news was that the Nachmund Gauntlet was secured, and the sundered halves of the Imperium were reconnected. The bad news was that the light of the Astronomican could not reach the Imperium Nihilus. The human worlds there, separated by light-years, became isolated islands where loyalty and betrayal, destruction and salvation, played out every moment.
At the same time, another of the Primarch's brothers was confirmed to have returned. The Lion, Lion El'Jonson, Master of the First Legion and the Dark Angels, returned after ten thousand years of absence to become the Warlord of the Imperium Nihilus, bringing hope to the desperate and destruction to the enemies of Man.
The war for the Nachmund Gauntlet raged on, as the forces of Chaos constantly attacked the sole stable link between the two halves of the Imperium. Tyranids, Chaos Cults, Greenskins, the T'au Empire, and countless other xenos and renegades continued to tear at the bleeding Imperium...
(Ahem... I'm getting sidetracked.)
Back to the present. Back to the half-step Tech-Priest Omega, currently riding his Magos down a corroded highway.
All the above information was pieced together by Omega from Magos Laust's bitter rant about Archmagos Veyl's history, combined with the data that automatically surfaced in his own mind when certain keywords were triggered, and the memories of his past life.
(In Magos Laust's telling, the Archmagos was a shameless, uneducated opportunist. In the knowledge downloaded into his brain, he was a loyal and brilliant scholar. It was all very confusing.)
Omega sighed and looked up at the smog-choked sky. I'm late! I'm too damn late! The Warhammer story is already well into M42! All the major events I know about are already history! How am I supposed to make my mark on the galaxy now?