Home Fires – Chapter Eight: Celebration
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The roars could have shattered the entire world.
Altea had only one proper city; the capitol: Relliketh. Hive Worlds had multiple billions of inhabitants per hive. Relliketh was not a proper hive with a miles-tall spire, but rather a sprawling metropolis dedicated to the storage, processing, and packaging of countless agricultural products. Seen from orbit, it was a raw, oblong sore on a tapestry of blue, green, and gold. Goods were distributed through the city along five main arterial highways, the greatest of which was Highway Primus. Twenty lanes, each wide enough for a main battle tank. In each direction. Dedicated lanes for shipping, commercial use, and private carriages. Electric tram lanes for workers in the various food processing factories. Seven rail lines in between the Northwest and Southeast bound halves. A road visible from high orbit as a dark black vein in the sheep’s eye of the city.
It stood completely full of screaming people.
Haphazard stands flanked the gigantic highway, built to different heights, building standards, and even angles. All of these held Altean citizens with pennants, signs, and other favors. Plasteel barriers flanked four of the Northwest bound lanes, neatly striped in bright yellow and deep black. Behind this, a veritable sea of humanity writhed, all the way from horizon to horizon.
Altea was a small world of only three billion souls. Antonius estimated they were all here. Today.
Down this road, the Azure Flames 4th Company advanced. They had come to conquer, as Astartes always do. However, today their conquest was the heart of the Altean people, at the Governor’s request. Larger squads marched five abreast, with squad Sergeants touting braziers flickering with brilliant blue fire from the tops of their power packs. Specialists were three abreast. Impulsor and Repulsor tanks punctuated the formation at regular intervals. Finally, various patterns of Storm Speeders circled the procession like hawks guarding a nest. Their only ordnance was confetti; a shower of blue that whorled in the vertices of their engines.
At their head, Antonius marched. Close behind were Ory-Hara, resplendent in his cloak, and Hakan in his black armour and skull helmet. Lieutenant Sandeep followed, along with Petrus who carried the newly refurbished banner that Antonius had rescued from his near fatal encounter aboard the Omega Station, and behind them Pontormo in his white Apothecary livery and Valleraus with his Servo-harness. They advanced; head held high, completely unfazed by the mass of humanity that had turned out to see them.
The march was grueling. Any other military presence would require intermissions where the troops could rest or breathe. Not the Emperor’s Finest. Antonius boasted to Governor Sterling that his troops could make the roughly hundred-and-fifty-kilometer route from sunup to sundown without breaks. Fifteen and a half hours of dedicated marching, capped with a ceremony broadcast to the entire planet. Sterling had scoffed. She scheduled the ceremony for the late evening and planned several stops.
The Azure Flames 4th Company did it in fourteen hours. Almost to the second.
Antonius had timed it so that the setting sun shone on the parade grounds for the ceremony. Visuals were perfect. After all, he had been the Master of the Marches for the Azure Flames for over a century. He knew parades. Pomp and circumstance was rare for the Astartes, but Antonius wrung every cheer he could from a crowd.
Of course, during the last leg of the parade, they had been in double time. This was due to an unhappy coincidence. One of the more poorly made stands had given way as the procession had passed it. Antonius had not wasted a second to order the 4th Company to part the crowd and aid the injured citizens. Vids were already circulating of Antonius himself tearing apart a ramshackle wooden ruin to help a pregnant woman with a crushed ankle.
He had not truly planned for this. But he had suspected. Put that many people in one thoroughfare and there was bound to be an accident. Multiply that by the length of the parade and almost certainly one would happen near the actual event. It was luck that the event was so conducive to public sentiment. The cheers after the parade had resumed made the initial noise seem meek by comparison.
The 4th Company organized itself at the grounds, setting sun shining on their faces. The Governor and her loyal toadies stood, applauding, on a pristine white stage capped with a gigantic blue brazier whose flame reached to the sky. Laurel branches, Antonius’ personal heraldry, had been distributed to all of those rich or lucky enough to be in attendance, tinging the stands of the crowd green. Antonius and the command staff mounted the stage, increasing the cheers. Antonius knelt, and Governor Sterling adorned the curly spray of locks above his head with a Laurel Crown, freshly cut and fragrant.
He stood as a banner unfurled from top to bottom from tall metal gantries behind the stage. It was emblazoned with four fateful words that made Antonius want to keel over and die:
“Happy Captain Antonius Day.”
The shame. It washed over Antonius in waves so powerful he felt it would carry him off the stage, back down the entire thoroughfare, across the continent, and into the ocean where he could drown without anyone seeing him ever again.
No such luck, however. Antonius had agreed to this. He had prepared the rest of the company; this was done under duress. Sterling had insisted; Antonius was to be the “face” of this endeavor. Of course, Sterling’s administration would take credit for the jubilations. Any problems caused during the duration of the Company’s visit would be laid at Antonius’ feet.
There was no other way. Antonius needed this.
He took a place behind a podium that automatically adjusted to his height. On the front, the chapter symbol of the Flames was bright against the deep blue background of his chapter’s primary colour, wreathed in laurel leaves. The crowd was quieted by pre-arranged signals.
“Thank you, Governor Sterling. And thanks to the wonderful citizens of my home world.” He paused for another round of cheers. “Long ago, the Azure Flames came to Altea, as we did so many worlds. We came to destroy the hated Orks, but also to save the people. I was one of those saved. I joined the Azure Flames and have fought over the length and breadth of the Galaxy in the name of the Emperor.”
After another pause, he continued. “The entire Imperium is still recovering from the recent events. Altea remembers the havoc caused as the rest of the galaxy burned. But Alteans persevered. Your strength is the pride of the sector, and I am humbled by it.” This prompted the loudest of the cheers so far.
“And now, I, Zeraf Antonius, have come home. I bring troops personally given to me by Lord Gulliman. The newest of the Astartes; we are Primaris. We have been sent to relieve your beleaguered defences and bring about a golden age on Altea. Your Governor has asked for our help and we of the Azure Flames will answer any call.”
“We bring strength with pride, but we come in humility. We must ask for the assistance of the people of Altea. We shall be among the people, from the deepest forests of the northern expanse to the streets of Relliketh. We will all work together to build Altea into a shining beacon to hold back the night. For the Emperor!”
The crowd echoed his cry. He screamed it again, as loud as he could, and again was met with a response from the crowd. Finally, on cue, the 4th Company, their vox-grilles at maximum volume, shouted the call once more. The city shook in reply. Thunderhawk gunships buzzed the stadium moments later, trailing blue smoke.
Antonius led his men off the field as the sun disappeared behind the horizon. Other prominent political members gave rousing speeches and made startling announcements until the sky went dim and was lit with brilliant blue fireworks.
It was done.