Cattle and more Training

The grand strategy room aboard the Sweet Liberty hummed with activity as Franklin Valorian took his seat at the head of the expansive table. The room's design mirrored the grandeur of ancient Terran war rooms, with holographic displays and data-slates seamlessly integrated into its classical architecture.

"Let's begin," Valorian's voice boomed, a hint of his characteristic humor underlying the serious tone. "We've got a party to get to, so let's make this snappy, shall we?"

Vladimir Mendelev, the Chief Librarian, cleared his throat. "My lord, I'll start with an update on Austeria Extremis. The mind-wiping operation is complete. Only King Thorndike and his Knights retain knowledge of our opponents. The populace is now secure from potential psychic interrogation."

Valorian nodded, his face grave. "Good work, Vladimir. It's never pleasant, but sometimes necessary. Denzel, your thoughts on our recent engagements?"

First Captain Denzel Washington stood up, "Thank you, my Lord. Our current strategy of overwhelming firepower has been effective, but costly. We're burning through our stored munitions fast."

Steven Armstrong, the 2nd Captain, interjected, "But hot damn, if it isn't a beautiful sight! Nothing says 'liberty' like a sky full of explosions!"

Valorian chuckled, "Easy there, Steven. We're trying to liberate worlds, not vaporize them. Elena, what's the fleet's perspective on this?"

Fleet Admiral Elena Koshka, "My Lord, while the spectacle of the Liberty Eagles' overwhelming firepower is indeed impressive, it is pushing our logistics to their limit. We are taxing our supply chains and approaching what would be the breaking point for any other legion. A more surgical approach may be prudent, especially when dealing with Chaos corruption embedded within civilian populations."

She paused, her gaze meeting Franklin's unflinchingly.

"However," she continued, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, "that breaking point is meant for the regular Astartes Legions. Ever since the expansion of the Independence Sector, our resources are unparalleled. It's no secret that you are one of, if not the, wealthiest Rulers in the Imperium. While others would be crumbling under this strain, as Liberty Eagles, we are not like the others. We can rearm and restock our massive munition stores at will. The coffers of the Independence Sector to call it vast is an understatement"

"Agreed, that's good-tax payer money right there" Valorian mused, absently running a hand along the hilt of his Crone Sword. The weapon seemed to pulse in response to his touch. "John, what's your take on ground operations?"

John Ezra, head of the Primarch's Honor Guard, stood at attention. "Sir, our Guardsmen are performing admirably, but we're seeing increased rates of Chaos corruption among the rank and file. The constant exposure to warp energies is taking its toll."

Valorian's eyes narrowed, a flicker of concern passing across his features. "Vladimir, any insights from the Techno-Seers on this?"

The Chief Librarian nodded gravely. "We've been developing new psychic shielding techniques, my Lord. Combining our warp disruption abilities with the machine empathy of our more tech-oriented brothers, we believe we can create a sort of... psychic firewall for our troops."

"Interesting," Valorian mused. "Marcus, how would this affect our ground tactics?"

General Marcus Graves of the Army straightened in his chair. "If effective, my Lord, it could allow for more precise strikes. Instead of carpet-bombing entire city blocks, we could send in smaller, shielded teams to excise the corruption surgically."

"I like it," Valorian nodded. "Yamato, how does the Air Force fit into this new paradigm?"

Air Force Chief of Staff Yamato Nakajima leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "My Lord, we've been developing a new class of stealth dropships. Combined with the Techno-Seers' shielding, we could insert strike teams virtually undetected."

Valorian's face broke into a wide grin. "Now that's what I call thinking outside the box! Armstrong, I can see you're about to burst. What's on your mind?"

Steven Armstrong slammed his fist on the table. "With all due respect, Father, are we going soft? The Liberty Eagles are known for our shock and awe! We can't let our enemies think we're losing our edge!"

Denzel Washington raised an eyebrow. "Nobody's suggesting we go soft, Armstrong. But even liberty needs to be applied judiciously. We're not here to create anarchy."

Valorian raised a hand, silencing the brewing argument. "Both valid points, gentlemen. We'll maintain our capacity for overwhelming force, but we'll be smarter about when and where we use it. Vladimir, I want you to work with Elena and Yamato on integrating these new psychic defenses into our fleet and air operations. Marcus, Denzel, start training strike teams for these surgical interventions. Armstrong, you'll be in charge of our 'shock and awe' reserves - when we need to make a statement, I want it to be loud and clear."

The Primarch stood, his massive frame dominating the room. "Remember, we're the Liberty Eagles. Our strength isn't just in our firepower, but in our ability to adapt, to outsmart our enemies. Chaos thrives on disorder and excess - we'll beat them by being more disciplined, more precise, and yes, occasionally more explosive."

He grinned, a twinkle in his eye. "Now, I believe we have a celebration to attend. After all, what's the point of being the fun Primarch if we don't let loose once in a while? Dismissed!"

As the chamber erupted into cheers and laughter. The Meeting Adjourned.

-------------------------

Date: 824.30M

Location: Independence Sector

Freedom's Reach,

Planetary Designation:

Xyberos-973-Theta

Biome Type: Tyranid Containment and Research Facility

Overview:

Xyberos-973-Theta is a top-secret experimental planet located deep within the Independence Sector, dedicated to advanced bio-engineering and the controlled study of Tyranid organisms. Established in 821.30M, following the annihilation of the Tyranid forces—or, as known to the Greater Imperium, the Legion of Ouroboris—the planet has since remained a hidden asset under the exclusive jurisdiction of the Liberty Eagles

Franklin, strode along a massive walkway suspended high above a bizarre alien landscape. Beside him walked Dr. Elara Chen, head of Bio-engineering, her crisp lab coat a stark contrast to Valorian's Mechsuit. Below them, a scene of controlled chaos unfolded - a Tyranid farm unlike anything the galaxy had ever seen.

Impressive, isn't it?" Dr. Chen gestured to the vista before them. "We've turned the galaxy's most terrifying predator into cattle."

Valorian's towering frame dwarfed Dr. Chen as they strode along, his eyes constantly scanning their surroundings. "Impressive work, Doctor," he remarked, his voice a low rumble. "I never thought I'd see the day when Tyranids were reduced to cattle."

Dr. Chen beamed with pride. "Thank you, Lord Valorian. Our progress on the Immortis gland has been remarkable. We're beginning to understand its intricacies, though there's still much to learn."

The Primarch nodded thoughtfully. "I'll consult with the Emperor on our next steps. This could revolutionize the Astartes program."

As they walked, a commotion below caught Valorian's attention. A group of hunters, clad in exo-suits that seemed to shimmer and shift with their movements, had cornered a Carnifex. With practiced efficiency, they brought the creature down in a hail of Pulse fire. Before the beast's body had even hit the ground, crab-like and spider-like automatons were already moving in to collect the remains.

"Efficient," Franklin remarked.

Dr. Chen nodded. "Indeed. Every part of the creature will be put to use - whether for research, materials, or even sustenance for our other specimens and without the Hivemind's control, they're just extremely lethal beasts," Chen commented, noticing Valorian's gaze. "This planet is dampened and isolated with several layers of protection. We've tested it extensively." 

"Tell me more about your findings, Doctor," Valorian prompted as they approached a heavily fortified structure.

Dr. Chen's eyes lit up. "Of course, my Lord. We've made significant breakthroughs in understanding Tyranid biology. Their evolutionary traits and adaptability are unparalleled. It's both terrifying and awe-inspiring."

As they proceeded deeper into the facility, the doctor led Franklin to a heavily fortified section. Multiple layers of energy fields and adamantium barriers separated them from the creature within - a sedated Norn Queen.

"This is perhaps our most valuable specimen," Dr. Chen explained. "The Hive Tyrant functions as a sort of consort-mind, granting it greater control over the swarm compared to lesser organisms. We eliminated it to prevent any immediate threat, knowing the Norn Queen could eventually produce another if provided enough biomass. To counter this, we've kept it under strict limitations—sufficiently sustained to survive, but deprived of the resources needed to produce any lethal organisms without our explicit consent."

As if on cue, the Norn Queen twitched, its massive form rippling with suppressed energy. Dr. Chen quickly checked a nearby console. "She's attempting to reconnect with the greater Hivemind again. It's futile, of course. If she could communicate, the Tyranids outside would move to free her. But we've made sure that's impossible."

A holographic figure materialized beside them - a woman with lines of code running across her skin. "Even if such communication were possible," the figure stated, "the Men of Iron stand ready to neutralize any threat. Humanity is the greatest species in the galaxy. All others are mere imitations."

Valorian chuckled. "Well said, Gaia. Keep up the good work."

As the AI's avatar disappeared, Valorian turned to Dr. Chen. "I assume you didn't bring me here just to admire your pet Tyranids, Doctor. What else do you have to show me?"

Dr. Chen's smile widened as she led Valorian deeper into the facility. They entered a large observation room overlooking a contained environment.

She led him to a sealed chamber deep within the facility. Through a observation window, they watched as an artificial Hive Mind - a pulsating mass of bio-mechanical circuitry - directed a group of Tyranids to consume various rare materials.

"We're teaching them to eat ceramite, the rare Auramite, Adamantium, Diamantite and more each with varying results" Dr. Chen explained, her voice filled with excitement. "By controlling their evolution in this confined space, we're creating new strains with unprecedented properties."

Franklin watched in fascination as the creatures morphed before his eyes, their carapaces taking on metallic sheens and crystalline structures. In the control room beyond, teams of scientists and their drone assistants worked feverishly, adjusting parameters and collecting data.

"Occasionally, the artificial Hive Mind fails, and the specimens go berserk," Dr. Chen admitted. "But that too provides valuable data."

Moving on, they came to a production area where the bodies of dead Tyranids were being processed into various materials. Massive fabricators hummed as they wove Tyranid chitin and sinew into sheets of incredibly durable, lightweight armor.

"We call it Tyran-alloy or Tyranimite" Dr. Chen said proudly. "By leveraging the Tyranids' ability to integrate consumed materials into their own biology, we're creating armor superior to anything we've developed before."

Valorian raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. "And the ethics of using a hostile alien species?"

Dr. Chen shrugged with a wry smile. "Out the window, my Lord. The Tyranids may be deadly, but they're proving to be an excellent material resource."

Valorian chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "Who would've thought? The galaxy's most dangerous predators, turned into livestock for the betterment of mankind. Now that is poetic."

As they watched, a fleet of automated mining rigs descended from the upper atmosphere, ready to extract valuable minerals from a nearby mountain range. The entire planet hummed with activity, a perfect blend of natural ferocity and human technological mastery.

"Keep pushing forward, Doctor," Valorian said, his voice filled with determination. "Your work here could be the key to securing humanity's dominance in the galaxy. The Emperor will be pleased with our progress."

Dr. Chen beamed with pride. "Thank you, my Lord. We won't let you down."

As they turned to leave, Valorian cast one last glance at the contained Norn Queen. For a moment, he thought he saw a flicker of awareness in its alien eyes. But then it was gone, and he was left with the satisfaction of knowing that even the mightiest of humanity's foes could be brought to heel.

------------------------

On a barren world designated for training and testing the formidable arsenal of the Liberty Eagles, Franklin Valorian stood alone in an isolated expanse. The harsh landscape stretched out around him, Today the Primarch of Liberty was honing his swordsmanship.

As Franklin moved through the intricate forms of his sword practice, his mind resonated with the presence of Khaine, Their mental conversation flowed as smoothly as Franklin's movements, a blend of instruction, banter, and mutual ribbing.

"Your form is improving, Franklin," Khaine's voice echoed in the Primarch's mind, a mixture of grudging approval and persistent critique. "You've come a long way from the days when you could barely tell a sword's pommel from its point."

Franklin smirked, executing a complex series of parries and thrusts. "High praise indeed, coming from you, old friend. I'll treasure this moment."

"Don't let it go to your head," Khaine retorted. "You've barely scratched the surface of true swordsmanship. I'd say you've mastered perhaps a quarter of my skills - and that's being generous."

The Primarch chuckled, his blade singing through the air as he moved into a more advanced kata. "Only a quarter? I'm wounded, Khaine. Truly wounded."

"Not as wounded as you'd be if you faced a real opponent with those skills," Khaine shot back. "If you'd spend half as much time practicing with a blade as you do with those noisy projectile weapons of yours, you might actually become formidable."

Franklin's grin widened as he completed the kata and moved into a series of lightning-fast strikes. "But where's the fun in that? Besides, I have a reputation to maintain. The Liberator can't be seen fumbling with a sword when he could be unleashing freedom at thirty thousand rounds per second, Miles away"

"There you go again!" The god's voice took on a comically high-pitched tone. "Bang! Bang! Pew pew! Look at me, I'm Franklin Valorian, and I think I can solve all my problems by shooting at them! Pew pew! Is that all you think warfare is?"

Franklin couldn't help but laugh at the absurd sight of an Eldar god mimicking gun sounds. "I'll have you know those 'boom-sticks' have served me quite well. Besides, weren't you the one always screaming about charging headlong into battle when we first met? And don't get me started on your volume control issues"

"I do not have volume control issues!" Khaine bellowed, causing Franklin to wince.

"Of course not," the Primarch said soothingly, rubbing his ear. "You're the very model of restraint and decorum."

Khaine grumbled something unintelligible before speaking again. "In any case, your swordsmanship is improving. But you still lack the experience to face foes who wield the Immaterium like a plaything. Need I remind you of your encounter with your... darker self?"

The Primarch's expression darkened at the memory. "I beat him in the end, didn't I?"

"Ah yes, the infamous testicular torsion maneuver," Khaine said dryly. "While I admit it was... unexpectedly effective, how many opponents do you think will fall for such a tactic twice?"

Franklin sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Point taken. So, what's next on the training regimen, O Mighty Khaine?"

The god's voice took on a smug tone that immediately put Franklin on edge. "Oh, I have something special planned. To compensate for your lack of experience, you're going to face an expert in Aeldari combat techniques."

"Right," Franklin snorted. "And where exactly are you going to find one of those? It's not like you have Aeldari warriors at your beck and call anymore."

Khaine's laughter echoed in his mind, a sound that was equal parts amusing and terrifying. "Oh, my dear Franklin. You underestimate me. I need you to lend me some of your warp power. Channel it through the sword."

Intrigued and slightly wary, Franklin complied. He focused his psychic energy, feeling it flow through his body and into the Deathsword. The weapon began to pulse with an eerie light.

"Good," Khaine purred. "Now, plant the sword in the ground."

As Franklin thrust the blade into the rocky soil, there was a flash of blinding light. When his vision cleared, he found himself face to face with an Aeldari warrior. The being before him was tall and lithe, with features that could only be described as ethereally handsome by Aeldari standards. But it was the eyes that caught Franklin's attention - ancient, piercing, filled with a wisdom and power that seemed to transcend time itself.

"Franklin Valorian," Khaine's voice rang out, filled with a pride that the Primarch had never heard before, "allow me to introduce you to Eldanesh, the greatest warrior the Aeldari have ever known. Second only to myself, of course."

Franklin blinked, processing this information. "Eldanesh? The Eldanesh? I thought he was... well..."

"Dead?" Khaine finished for him. "Oh, he is. I killed him myself."

"You... killed him," Franklin repeated slowly. "Care to elaborate on that?"

Khaine's mental shrug was almost palpable. "It was a whole thing. Prophecies, a sword called Anaris, typical god-mortal drama. You know how it is."

Franklin couldn't help but chuckle. "So you're a hot-headed god who killed his greatest champion over a prophecy? And here I thought humanity had issues."

"I may be a hot-head," Khaine retorted, "but I'm the strongest hot-head in the pantheon. My track record speaks for itself."

"Can't argue with that," Franklin conceded. He turned his attention back to the silent, imposing figure of Eldanesh. "So, am I to fight this legend?"

"Indeed you are," Khaine replied, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. "Though this is merely an illusion pulled from my memories, it is no less formidable. Make no mistake – this is Eldanesh at the height of his power. There has never been another like him among the Aeldari, which is why his memory remains so vivid in my mind."

Franklin rolled his shoulders, loosening up in preparation for the duel. "Well, how hard could it be? I am a Primarch, after all."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Franklin knew he'd made a mistake. Khaine's laughter echoed in his ears as Eldanesh moved—faster than anything the Primarch had ever encountered.

One moment, the Aeldari warrior was still as a statue; the next, he was a blur, his spectral blade slicing through the air with impossible speed.

Franklin barely managed to bring his sword up in time to parry the blow. The impact sent shockwaves through his enhanced frame, and though he countered with a strike of his own, Eldanesh was already gone—attacking from a completely different angle.

What followed was unlike any duel Franklin had ever experienced. Eldanesh moved with a fluidity that defied logic, each strike flowing seamlessly into the next. His blade seemed omnipresent, probing Franklin's defenses with an unnerving precision.

Franklin fought back with all the skill and strength he possessed, drawing on the combat techniques Khaine had taught him. His superhuman reflexes and strength allowed him to keep up—barely. But for every successful parry or strike, Eldanesh landed two of his own.

Time lost all meaning as the duel progressed. Franklin's entire world shrank to the space between their blades, his focus honed on surviving the next attack. He reached deep into his psychic abilities, using them to anticipate Eldanesh's movements and boost his own speed and power.

But it wasn't enough. Eldanesh's relentless assault was overwhelming, his attacks coming faster and with greater force. Franklin found himself being pushed back, his defenses slowly crumbling.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Eldanesh's blade slipped past Franklin's guard, scoring a deep hit across his torso. The pain was very real despite the illusion, and Franklin's vision darkened as agony surged through his body.

When he came to, he was lying on his back, staring up at the alien sky. Every nerve screamed in protest as he struggled to sit up.

Khaine's face appeared in his view, amusement and approval mingling in his expression. "Well, well, well. It seems our Primarch has some potential after all."

Franklin groaned, clutching his side where Eldanesh's blade had struck. "How long did I last?"

"Exactly 5.7 seconds," Khaine replied, still chuckling. "If it makes you feel any better, that's about 5.5 seconds longer than most mortals last against Eldanesh."

Franklin glared at the sword planted nearby, its illusory form now gone. "And what was the point of that? Besides entertaining you, of course."

Khaine's tone grew more serious. "The point, Primarch, was to show you true mastery. Eldanesh wasn't just skilled—he was the pinnacle of Aeldari martial prowess. Lasting even ten minutes against him would place you among the galaxy's top warriors."

"Ten minutes?" Franklin scoffed. "I could barely see him move! and I am a PRIMARCH"

"Exactly," Khaine said. "Which is why we'll keep at this until you can. You may be a Primarch, Franklin Valorian, but there are beings in this universe who have honed their skills since before your species learned to walk. It's time you learned how to face them."

Franklin let out a groan, realizing the days ahead would make his previous trials seem like a leisurely stroll. But as he pulled himself to his feet, sword in hand, a spark of excitement ignited within him. He was a Primarch—humanity's finest warrior—and with Khaine as his teacher and Eldanesh as his sparring partner, he would become something even greater.

The twin suns began to set, casting long shadows across the barren world. Franklin raised his sword, bracing for another brutal round of training.

"That's the spirit!" Khaine boomed with enthusiasm. "Remember, ten minutes is the goal. But at this rate, I'll settle for ten seconds."

As Eldanesh's illusory form materialized again, Franklin took his stance, determination etched across his features. The training would be brutal—perhaps even hellish—but he was ready. Someday, he vowed silently, he would make even Khaine eat his words.

The clash of blades echoed across the desolate landscape, the sound of a Primarch in pursuit of martial perfection. If anyone had been watching, they would have witnessed an extraordinary sight: a warrior of the Imperium locked in a deadly dance with a legend of a bygone age, all under the watchful eye of a god who couldn't quite hide his pride as he barked orders and insults in equal measure.