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The Iron Lords Chapter is one of the many successor chapters of the venerable Iron Hands. The Iron Lords are known for their exceptionally stern demeanour and lauded xenophobia. They maintain the blockade of the Grendl Stars, confining the vile alien species within that region of space.

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‘Only when the last Xenos has been scoured from the galaxy shall the Imperium know peace.’ Captain Do'tharri, Iron Lords 4th Company

image [https://i.postimg.cc/CK8g1wp3/Iron-Lords.png]

‘Lord Vaax.’

He groaned internally as his name was being called. From many past experiences he knew this signalled the end of another long, dreamless slumber.

‘Lord Vaax?’

Someone was calling him again, the annoying sound reverberating inside his head. He slowly regained full consciousness and gained awareness of his surroundings. A numbing, bone-chilling, inky darkness and a low resonating hum surrounded him as they always had for centuries.

It took a moment to clear the fog from his mind, he groaned silently again and swore that this only got harder each time. With a thought command pulse, a chronometer was summoned into his field of view. A string of numbers lit up in the darkness, superimposed on his retina. He read the numbers dispassionately, a quick note on the date informed him it was not the scheduled date for deep maintenance rituals. He noted his own mental clarity and gave thanks to the primarch that the weakness of mental regression still had not hit him yet.

Then his attention shifted back to the time again. To awake him before schedule could only mean one thing: It was time for another war.

‘Lord?’ The voice asked again. ‘Are you awake?’

>>> VOICE ON >>>

‘Yes.’ His voice boomed.

It has been a while since he had last spoken, his own “voice” resonated back at him in his dark confines, an incredibly deep and harsh sound created by a vocal synthesiser. This always brought back the memory of his first speech in this environment.

‘Lord, you should reach 100% operational capacity within the next 300 seconds.’

‘Very well.’ He replied.

>>> DISMISS DATE >>>

>>>TIMER 300 SECONDS. COUNTDOWN NOW >>>

With another mental command, the calendar was dismissed and replaced by a timer showing the desired countdown.

>>>DISPLAY MASTER STATUS >>>

Data windows appeared in his vision, a mere glance told him enough of his current status, that everything was as it should be. Satisfied, he willed the master status display windows away.

>>>VISUAL ON >>>

His field of view came to life. The sudden appearance of real light after so long triggered his instinct to blink, though in truth that was a biological function that was obsolete in his current form. These days he gained his vision via direct data feed to his optic nerves.

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He saw himself looking down from a standing position. In front of him was a figure clad in bulky crimson armour holding a stylised axe, with two servo arms protruding from the back of his massive frame. The Techmarine did not wear a helmet, revealing that one of his eyes was a cold cybernetic orb that glowed dimly in the low light, while the other still biological eye looked up with veneration.

Although from his point of view the Techmarine looked so much shorter in comparison to himself, it was from the various human-size servitors slaving around that portrayed the true scale of things.

Towering head and shoulders above the servitors, the Techmarine was at least seven feet tall. Even so, the Techmarine still had to look up at Vaax because he was an Astartes dreadnought walker that towered nearly four metres in height and weighed twelve standard tonnes, most of which is the heavy armour covering his frame that was impervious to all conventional small arms fire.

‘Brother Techmarine Ruthol.’ The dreadnought acknowledged the Techmarine.

‘Lord Vaax, it has been a while.’ Ruthol bowed his head.

As one entombed inside a cyborganic sarcophagus of a dreadnought, Vaax commanded great respect from his battle brothers. In addition, due to the culture of his chapter, Vaax enjoyed an even greater status than most dreadnoughts in other space marine chapters.

‘Only eighteen Solar years, three months and four days since we last spoke. Let us dispense with the pleasantries, make haste with the rest of the rituals.’

‘As you wish.’ The Techmarine grabbed a thick cable behind him and plucked it into an opening on Vaax’s chassis. A visual prompt appeared in the dreadnought's vision, confirming if he wished to accept the connection.

>>>YES>>>

With that Vaax was connected into the primary cogitator of the Astartes Strike Cruiser Will of Iron. Priority update messages for him popped up across his vision and he glanced through them all, his superhuman processing greatly aiding in the rapid absorption of the massive data flowing before him.

From the data stream received Vaax understood that at this very moment the Will of Iron was maintaining a low orbit around a planet designated Hermetica IV, a backwater Imperial world orbiting a medium-size star. Mission logs from the Will of Iron recorded skirmishes with Ork void ships in the past few weeks.

‘Orks.’ Vaax muttered, his deep voice laced with disdain.

The Xenos species known as Orks were the widest spread of hostile aliens in the galaxy. Even so their activities in this sector were relatively rare. Vaax had expected another massive run-in with the Barghesi, another Xenos species that has plagued this region of the Grendl Stars for as long as he could remember.

Another visual prompt appeared, indicating someone was trying to contact Vaax via the data link. Typical of Astartes efficiency, not even five Terran minutes after regaining consciousness the commander of this strike force was seeking to communicate with him, and Vaax would not want it any other way. The dreadnought noted the signature identity of the commander, accepted the prompt and spoke before the other party could say anything. ‘Hail Brother Captain Markaan, belated congratulations on your promotion.’

For a dreadnought, it was not uncommon to wake up to a totally different batch of battle brothers in between slumbers. However from the records Vaax saw the current mission was currently under the command of Brother Markaan Rarneek. The last time Vaax was awake Markaan was but a veteran sergeant with some potential.

A familiar voice came through the communication line. ‘Lord Vaax, it has been a while. I am not a captain yet, addressing me as Force Commander will do for now.’ Upon hearing that Vaax made a harsh sound that was close to scoffing. ‘I see, your lack of proper political finesse is still dragging your feet? My calculus once suggested you should have been made captain last century if not for your under-polished bracer.’

That Iron Lords’ expression for one lacking the ability to work well with superiors went unanswered. A while later, a sound that could only be described as a deep, very mechanical chuckle came through and Markaan finally replied. `So glad to hear you have lost none of the legendary bluntness during your long slumber, I almost pity the fools who you will be crushing later.’

Such exchanges were rare in the Iron Lords, it could almost pass as banter amongst their ranks. They both paused for a moment, in the end it was Markaan who broke the silence.

‘Welcome back, brother.’

‘Glad to be back.’ Vaax replied while reflexively spinning up the massive assault cannon that had replaced his right arm and clenching his glinting metallic left palm into a massive fist. Everything seemed to be in order, he was ready.

‘Send me to the enemies so I can crush them.’ The dreadnought declared as the countdown timer he started earlier reached zero just as his operational capacity indicator reached the maximum level.

It was time for war.