The sun was rising over the rolling hills of Medusa IV, a planet which was not yet graced with the light of civilization, divided between hundreds of savage tribes who fought from horseback and wielded armaments ranging from swords and bows to the odd lasgun which had originally served on the colony ship which once seeded this planet with human life.

For Millennia the Medusans had lived independent and forgotten by the larger galaxy, their lives shaped by the harsh winter and the ever present threat of neighbouring tribes who wanted nothing more or less than stealing the horses or conquer the grox hunting grounds.

This was about to change:

Crying their war cries and raising their lances the largest tribe coalition, which had ever ridden over the plains of Medusa, was gathering in front of their last nemesis' bulwark.

Their clothes were adorned by the symbol of the holy maiden.

A maiden who was found ten years ago alone in the plains; wearing an otherworldly white robe made from fabrics far too delicate and sturdy at the same time to be made from human hands. The hunters who had found her immediately brought her to the tribe's shaman in the belief that her appearance was heralding the beginning of a new chance for their tribe.

Then the Farhula, the tribe of said hunters, was the smallest one in the whole plains and only two days before the maiden's appearance they had lost all their grox to the attack of a neighbouring tribe who killed nearly all of the men and kidnapped the women and children.

In this time of need the great Father of the sky had deemed it necessary to send her, the maiden had told and the shaman had trembled and fallen to his knees as a small kiss and a tiny pill had freed his spirit from his body, letting it fly above the clouds and see the mighty chariot, which He who sat on His throne had sent to lift the Farhula to the greatest heights of glory as His most faithful servants.

The remaining men of the tribe had fallen on their knees and joined their shaman in singing praise to Him and His maiden and bathed in the light He had sent His bounties to them:

Row after row of the oldest and mightiest weapons they had only seen from the richer northern tribes were spread in front of them: weapons that every warrior could use, no matter how weak he was and which killed their enemies with the red beams of light faster and more deadly than any bow they had.

They sung praise to Him and celebrated for His maiden's enjoyment through the night and at the next day before the sun had risen, she lead them to their enemies knowing where they had camped as if He Himself was guiding her.

And as such began the rise of the Farhula, who took back their women at this night and annexed the surviving families and land of their rivals.

This day has long past and ten years had swept over Medusa in which the maiden had never aged and hundreds of shamans had flocked to her to learn the word of Him who is sitting enthroned above all: how He was the father of mankind and how His warriors were more numerous than the stars themselves.

And the maiden promised: One day his servants will come down to the Farhula as soon as they have united the whole world from one horizon to another under His rule and let their mightiest warriors embark on His divine chariots to bring them to the battlefields were they will protect and guard His creation against the darkness of the daemonic.

Today they were going to finish the first step on the way to the fulfilment of the prophesy, to show themselves worthy of being His glorious warriors.

But the maiden had told them that none of them were going to join Him on His throne or at least not one of his warriors: only their enemies might find salvation by his forgiveness.

And so they stood posed around the final fortress, their caps pulled into their faces to endure the cold, while their banners were hanging limply from their poles.

But now their breath stopped as they saw the maiden walking to the first ranks of their riders and all of them took a tighter hold on their lances as they expected her to lead the charge as she had so many times before.

Not this time: the holy maiden was kneeling down on the dry, half frozen grass in front of them, her white robe untouched by dirt or earth as she raised her head upwards to the sky and while she was clearly only whispering, her words seemed to echo over the gathered ranks of the tribesmen as her soft voice said:

"The sky will welcome me, for therein dwells the Emperor and his saints. Today I will return to Him in the knowledge that His servants are mighty and victorious. I beseech you! Let none of them die today and instead let them watch how their enemies turn to dust."

As soon as she said her prayer an angelic choir seemed to sweep over the plains and all of the warriors jumped, some even fell, to the ground and kneeled down as they took this as a sign of Him. Then they heard a noise, like something was sucked away and a strange smell reached their noses, but as they lifted their heads again the maiden wasn't alone anymore!

Standing in front of her was a female with an even more ornate and divine robe, her clothing covered by His signs of allegiance, her hand resting on the head of the holy maiden who looked up with deep respect.

But if she was a holy maiden….they were at a loss of words on how to call the miraculously arrived woman in front of her: her hair blazing in the colour of the rising sun and one of her eyes blazing with holy fire.

"He's our Father.", the figure invoked ceremonially as she reached down and helped the maiden up to her feet and turned around with her.

"He's our Guardian!", her voice echoed in the heart of every warrior as she took the first steps, none daring to move as she moved into the firing range of the enemy's fortress and black figures were looking at her equally dazzled from its walls.

But then every faithful heart missed a breath as the faithless found their bearing again and a cloud of black projectiles rose into the air, bearing down on the holy maiden and the messenger.

"He protects.", was the simple answer as she opened her arms and offered herself of the storm of arrows, hundreds of iron tips bearing down on her and in horror some of the warriors closed their eyes.

But there was no cry of pain, no yell of victory from the defenders: only the sound of arrow tips burying themselves into the frozen ground and when the men opened their eyes again they saw a miracle: The bearer of His words was standing in front of the maiden and both of them were shielded by a golden field around them, no arrow able to come close to them as they vanished from the air itself.

While the defenders cried out in shock and dismay, the warriors outside started to cry out in certainty of their victory only to be silenced as a defying roar rebounded over their heads.

"AND NO ENEMY IS BEYOND HIS WRATH!"

In the moment the last word rang over them the clouds parted with the sound of thunder, the formerly grey clouds turning into a fiery inferno as….something drilled through the air.

Not merely something: His wrath.

In the blink of an eye the enemy fortress was gone and the warriors had to shield their eyes as the bright mark of His destruction burned itself through closed eyelids, leaving an impression none of them will ever forget: the way the earth itself tore up and the fortress with its buildings, walls and little black dots which might have been people rose up into the air and were burned to ash, which reached from the ground up into the clouds.

In the days to come old warriors would sit on the campfires of their clans, their greying hair tugged safely below an equally old fur cap and when their grandchildren asked them why they were still wearing it they would tell them of the day when a young warrior was ready to give his life for Him and how he fell to his knees as the miracle happened which made the Farhula into the mightiest tribe from one direction of the sky to another.

He would tell the children how the wind of His wrath had swept away all the fur caps of the gathered warriors and no one had dared to move out to search for his as their eyes were locked onto the plain were the holy maiden and the messenger were standing in the company of a third servant of Him and how they disappeared to head back to the sky where He is dwelling.

Then he would take their hands and lead them out of their tent, walking towards the middle of their clans settlement were one of the flags was standing which fluttered above their heads as the messengers of His words were abstracted from their world.

The old warrior would look at the red cloth which shone like the hair of his most faithful Messenger herself and smile when the wind picked up and the children were gazing up to His symbol: The two headed bird of prey, it's left eye looking into the future and onto His subjects while the right eye was blindfolded and looking into the past at the heathens they left behind.

With regret he would look at his atrophied hands and remember the prophecy the maiden had given them, then he would only smile and ruffle his grandchildren's hair, hoping that maybe their generation will be seen as worthy of serving as his warriors and then he would tell them the most simple thing the maiden once told him and thousands of other warriors:

"He's the father and the guardian of mankind and one thing will always be true:

The Emperor protects. "

Beyond the Emperor's reach lies only darkness and despair.

This ends the STG report of the artificial construction regarding structures similar to Mass relays, further notices about the incident can be read in the notes under …

Looking up from her Omni-tool councillor Tevos sent her fellow councillors a credulous look, before looking down at the documents and footages before her again, skimming through the headlines of the joined Turian and Salarian project before closing them with a weary sigh.

An awkward silence descended over the meeting chamber of the three most influential beings in the known galaxy, sitting in the, most likely, most secure and comfy room in the whole citadel.

"Just what…did you think you were doing?",

The Asari matriarch finally asks with a small glare directed at her colleagues who shifted uneasily in their seats, knowing full well that their little project was now busted and known to the Asari who normally prided themselves at being the most progressive race in the mastery of Element Zero, who were now, no doubt in this case, interested in the possibility of an own analogue to the mass relay network…just the idea which the other two big races seemed to have tried building behind their blue backs.

"It was the idea to utili-" Valern started to explain in rapidly as his Turian counterpart cut him off: "It was an investment of the Turian Hierarchy within the scope of our peace keeping missions, our own relay network could be a deciding edge against any-"

Sparatus didn't get much further himself as a slowly enraged Tevos hit her fist on the table, for once discarding her diplomatic persona as she glared at both of her colleagues:

"You two….this…this….investment!", she spit the word like a curse as she pointed at the reports "destroyed a whole planet just as you first tried to-"

"It was only a dead moon-" The Salarian tried to interject helpfully only to be silenced by a cold glare as cold as meteoroid ice from Tevos as she stared him down and repeated in a tone bare of any emotion "…only a dead moon?"

Using this moment to try and calm her down Sparatus quickly tried to shift her attention away "No one was killed or wounded one way or another, all 215 scientists and other personnel were able to evacuate the station before our prototype relay collapsed, if you might read the additions to the official report you might see that there were even 218 lives rescued from the station, you can't say anyone came to harm."

Listening to the Turian Councillor Tevos slumped into her chair closing her eyes and trying to fight against the tiredness that seemed to have grabbed her, before responding more controlled: "You two…it was already bad enough that the Geth were able to attack the Citadel itself with a new super dreadnought and that we three are only still alive thanks to Shepard and her call for help, which made a System Alliance fleet appear just in time. Now we might even need to give the humans their own seat as…wait" Stopping midway in her sentence Tevos looked back at Sparatus in mild puzzlement

"218 of 215 left the station before its destruction?"

"Yes! Very interesting, we were able to pull three individuals through the relay into the station. They appear to be human, and talked in a strange dialect, they were obviously not very fazed by their means of transport, they are-" "Humans with the attitude of the Hanar", Sparatus finished his excited colleague's statement with his mandibles twitching irritated, "They are just even more primitive than the system alliance, all three of them seem to carry swords of all things" Shaking his hand dismissingly he turned back to the reports of the damages wrought by the battle of the citadel,

"I'm sure we have other worries, the council shouldn't bother itself with some unsuccessful project, we promise..". at these words he tried to make eye contact with Tevos and gave her a small nod "…that the Hierarchy and the Salarian Union will stop working on this and any related projects while….just while the public still needs to calm down, is that acceptable Tevos?", he asked accompanied by the rather reluctant nods of Valern who showed the obvious reluctance of the Salarian to postpone such a fascinating idea,

Her eyes wandering back towards the reports describing the rebuilding progress in the wards who took the most damage against Saren and his Geth, she nodded sharply at the offer

"That's…reasonable, maybe when the time is right a few Asari scientists could help us accomplish our own network even faster, but still…what's with these three humans the prototype brought into the station?"

Scoffing Sparatus shook his exoskeleton clad head, with an aura of assured superiority in his next words:

"Just primitives, trying to spread their religion from what we have found out, following their deity and wanting to make other people believe in him too….as you can see, not much different from the Hanar, most likely they are just humans from some backwater colony in the Terminus with a delusion of grandeur."

Nodding to herself more than to the others, Tevos gave both of them a small smile before nodding towards her door, sighing as they finally left and she had her room just to herself.

Curiously she reached down and opened a small video of one of these "Hanar like" humans to look for herself, a small smile tugging on her lips as the video showed the most likely leader of the three person group, all three seeming to be normal human women…if you didn't mind their particular clothing style. A small giggle only barely escaped from Tevos' lips as she continued watching a small clip of the group's leader, not possibly any older than twenty or a bit more, holding her hand firmly around the hilt of a great bulky sword of all things before opening her mouth and talking in a language totally unknown to Tevos or her Omni tool:

"I'm Flavia Sophana, Missionary of the Missionarus Galaxia. Greetings in the name of the God Emperor of Mankind."

After saying this obvious introduction or greeting the women smiled with genuine warmth, as far as Tevos could guess, which was quite something with her status and age as matriarch, before she bowed down for a moment, interlocking her hands and forming some sort of sign with her open hands and thumbs, shaking her head slightly before recalling Sparatus's words "Humans with the attitude of Hanar", Tevos smiled to herself as she put this report away and closed her eyes to finally get some rest: "they are only preachers, let them go around and talk to people…what could be the worst that happens?"

The mass relay to the citadel flared up with life and a stealth ship of the STG moved uncontested towards the centre of the galaxy, carrying with it guests who some might want to forget just to hide their failure, while the council itself has deemed them important enough to give a small and private hearing, just to get them of the table and deal with the backslash of the battle which not only showed how vulnerable the citadel was to an invasion attempt, but also the shifting of powers as humanity's new councillor Anderson was needed to be integrated into the existing council.

Leaning against the wall of their shared cabin Flavia Sophana, Member of the Missionarus Galaxia, looked at one of the Xeno holograms, which were mounted at the walls and showing the space station….citadel. Shaking her head in minor amusement, not only at the misplaced pride the bird and frog like Xeno seemed to have at every mention of this station, at least as far as sister Marina could translate so far…and if sister Marina was translating it for her, she could at least be sure to get the best possible translation.

Shaking her head slightly below the heavy white hood which was part of her robes, the missionary leaned back into the nearly decadently cushioned seats of the cabin and closed her eyes wearily, as she just now doubted her idea to appease the Xenos for now…

"Anything new regarding the low gothic dialect they are using to talk to us, Sister Marina?"

The missionary asked with still closed eyes, as she let her thoughts wander back to the last mission they accomplished before the…incident that stranded them with these strangely…peaceful? Slightly she shook her head, Curious….yes, that was better fitting, curious Xenos, especially the amphibian like, frail looking ones.

"The dialect….English... as they call it, seems to be related to at least 34 other low gothic dialects, either through their grammatical structure or certain word and syllable combinations, so far I'm presuming it to be a human language Missionary.",

The reply of the black haired Adeptus Sororitas snapped Flavia out of her musing, as her eyes focused on the source of the voice, nodding ever so slightly towards the red and white robed Sister, who had covered her part of the cabin with numerous scrolls and ink, as well as a few data pads for cross referencing the dialect. Looking back at the hologram, she was once again slightly amazed…and appalled at the clearness of the picture, that the Xenos can have such a superior technology so openly displayed and from what she has seen so widely used in the everyday life made her… uneasy, but then something came into the view and she had to keep back a smile as her eyes trailed over it, her heart filling with faith at the view.

"Sister Marina, you should take a look at this, the Emperor might have given us a sign."

Forming the sign of the Aquilla with her interlocked thumbs the Missionary sent a thankful prayer to the Master of Mankind as their transport passed a large field of debris. It wasn't that large, barely a skirmish or border incident in Imperial standards but what made her hope flare up once again where the letters not only on the debris but also on the still intact vessels, moving through the field, the closest reading "SSV Cairo" in clear gothic letters on its hull.

Only at her second glance did she scowl slightly, flimsy, no other word came to her mind as quickly as she looked at the small size of all the, hopefully, human vessels, most of them not even coming close to the size of a Cobra Class Destroyer of the Imperial Navy, and not one of them surpassing Frigate size. As far as she could see none of them had the unmistakable silhouette of an Imperial warship, with growing unrest she could even make out that a lot of ships she mistook for being most likely human as well were bearing other symbols and letters, identifying them as Xeno crafts with an eerie similarity to the human vessels.

Drumming her fingertips over the polished leather of her prayer book the missionary gave the Sister a small smile:

"Service for the Emperor never seems to end…if there are humans…they might be part of these Xeno empires at worst and at best they are using the same Xeno tech as them, risking the damnation of their souls to it."

After seeing Sister Marina give her a small nod Flavia turned back to the screen concentrating her attention on the Xenos seat of government, the station in the shape of a Pentagram and five arms, the whole construction turning around an central axis…most likely to gain artificial gravity. In a way it pleased the missionary greatly that even this resourceful Xenos, similar to them only seemed the rumoured Tau at the fringe of the Imperium, wasting technological luxuries on everyday things were still not able to build something coming even close to the holy glory of the Imperial ship yards and the great space stations she had visited on her travels on whatever ship she was assigned to accompany on its travels to the unexplored regions.

Wistfully she looked over to Sister Marina and then back towards the door of the cabin, next to which the oldest member of the trio was leaning against the wall, her lips not stopping a moment as she recited one litany of protection after another, her voice being as calm and silent as the faint noises of the ships engines. The former Adeptus of an Order Militant was slowly coming close to the end of the second century of her service to the God-Emperor and was given to the missionary to assist her in the spreading of the Imperial Cult.

Sister Marie, formerly of the Order of Our Martyred Lady, was chosen for this position in the Ecclesiarchy's efforts to spread His light thanks to her unwavering piety and her experience, having battled the forces of Chaos at multiple engagements, coming close to Heresy and the Archenemy every time without faltering, her faith to the Emperor only growing at each occasion. Today her recitation wasn't the usual daily prayer, but a shield against the disgust she felt from using the vile xeno tech projection on her arm to gain access to the database they called Extranet, while her other hand was stuck in a smelly black glove to use the hologram interface as pictures, one more revolting than the last seemed to play out before her, showing her teeming cities full of different xeno species mingling with one another, disgusting beings resembling mutants of human women with tentacles instead of hair and blue skin sauntered over the streets off pictures smiling an Emperor damned human smile at her as her hands clenched into fists and she quickly changed the picture with a swift movement of her hand, showing a more familiar view: hundreds of the bird like Xenos marching in perfect cadence with their weapons presented and row after row of tanks following the precisely marching infantry. To a degree it was strangely soothing after the blue ones to see that Xenos still remained Xenos, rivals to humanities divine right to rule the stars. Flipping further trough what seemed to be titled "First contact package", a small amused snort escaped the ex-Seraphim and from the corner of her eye she could see the missionary sending her an equally amused look as she read the title, as every servant of the God-Emperor knows there is only one package for a first contact, mostly containing an abundance of His holy ordinance dropped on whatever xeno species dared to raise its miserable head from their backwater planet.

But then all three Imperials gasped as the pictures changed once again, showing a brightly glowing sun illuminating a single solar system, the shadow of a human couple in the background. Not any, but The solar system, as in the cradle of humanity, with the red dusty surface of Mars home to the Mechanicus Cult, the outmost Pluto with its shipyards and…their breath stopped collectively once again as they stared at a pristine garden world, the view dominated by the blue colour of oceans and the green of forests, with city lights only taking parts…and not all of the surface for themselves.

Even with being the eldest Sister Marie could hardly hide her bewilderment at the view, a quick glance would have showed everyone that Sister Marina was hardly taking it better both of them staring at the picture for what could amount a small eternity from their perspective, before they turned towards the Missionary again who had taken it in stride and smiled slightly at their looks searching for guidance, raises her hands softly she tried to calm them down:

"You shouldn't be worrying about this system too much Sisters, it could just be a coincidence a system looking this awfully familiar to the Holy Sol system and…",

Waiting for a moment as the names of each celestial body in the system was getting labelled in low gothic on the screen, not even waiting for Sister Marina's translation of each name into the fitting High Gothic names, Flavia shook her head and stared both of the Sisters down, her voice bearing a tone of finality:

"Heresy grows from idleness, we were sent out into the galaxy with the prospect of never returning to the Imperium in our lifetime, travelling from one lost human civilization to another, no matter if they were even barely feudal or still stuck feral, it's our sacred duty to spread the Emperors word, saving as many human souls as possible from Damnation and expanding the Imperium without the great waste of defenders subjugating them might cost. When we left Tanivaz II, we left through the teleporter, giving those spear wielding tribesman a glimpse at the might of the Imperium, we were ready to never return to the world and let another Missionary finish spreading the faith in a hundred or even two hundred years, what has changed from us falling through the warp into these xenos hands? It shouldn't matter to us if this system-"

She paused and gestured at the hologram which seemed to hover in the middle of the room, captivating all attention before the missionary shook her head and reached down turning it off and as the orange lights of the Omni-tool died down, leaving both Sisters concentrating on the Missionaries face, which shone in a deep red as in place of her left eye a glowing red light seemed to intensify like a burning torch, her whole appearance shifted into the fiery orator she could be before the faithful in a cathedral or the heathens which she proselytized under the clear sky of any world His will sent her too.

"…if this system and its planets are just named in honour of the old home world the humans in this part of the Galaxy could have forgotten long since the Age of Strife, or if this system truly is Holy Terra? In which case we are lost not in space but in time, as there seems to be no indication of the Imperial Palace and the Oceans and Trees were lost on Terra long ago in the Dark Ages anyway. But why should this matter to us? It doesn't matter if we are lost in time or in space, our purpose is clear, our duty is sacred, we are to spread the five Truths of the Imperial Creed, they are the only chance for humanities continued survival and no matter where we are right now the humans will hear and believe, or we will make them!"

Taking a deep breath she looked heavily at each Sister who only nodded and fell to their knees praying softly to the Emperor, asking for his guiding hand to let them spread His light even in this forsaken sector:

"For the Emperor has once walked among men, but He is, and always has been, a god.

The Emperor is the only true god, regardless of what past faiths any human may have worshipped.

To purge the heretic, beware the psyker and mutant, and abhor the alien."

As the Missionary's voice continued to grow loader, slowly reaching the peak of the small sudden preachment, Sister Marie's hand strayed to her hips, gripping the familiar handle of her pistol as she remembered the glorious Purges she was once a part of, before joining Sister Marina in silent devotion, as the cores of the Imperial Faith seemed to Echo in the closed cabin like thunder.

"Every human being has a place within the Emperor's divine order.

And every human's duty is to unquestionably obey the authority of the Imperial government and one's superiors.

We do not have to fear and shrink away from our holy duty:

Men united in the purpose of the Emperor are blessed in his sight and shall live forever in his memory."