 There are worlds, throughout the Imperium, which, through a confluence of power, privilege, or sheer mythic impact, have rendered themselves as archetypes in our cultural imagination. Holy Terra, the throne world, stands unique amongst the myth's true, but others persist in our legends, as the weight of their history exerts a gravitational pull upon the minds of the masses. Caesar, the Forge, Catachan, the Death, Lost Cadia, the Fortress, we divide our galaxy-spanning empire into neat brackets for the sake of our own understanding, applying broad strokes of the brush to millions of worlds in an effort to make the sheer scale of the Imperium bend to our mortal understandings. This is, of course, the death of subtlety, for who is to say one Hive World is identical to another. Virgast is not Armageddon just as Krieg is not Pythos, yet both bear the same classifications, Hive World, Death World, despite their incredibly diverse histories. Occasion, it is of deep worth to any Historator worth his starch allowance to delve deeper into the histories of individual planets, to scry the minutiae, to pick apart the clockwork of just one of his Imperial Majesty's subject planets, to discover the stories, the heaving masses of humanity that dwell therein. The subject of this record is one such world, but one as with those listed above that has, in its own right, become archetypal, an infamous and terrible sphere within the greater Imperium by sheer dint of its complexity, vitality, and viciousness. Now then, this is a record of the foundational millennia of the Hive World, of the development of an ecumenopolis as much unique as it is a template. A record of the history of the planet Necromunda. The bones of Necromunda are old, even by Imperial standards. Settled at some point during the 26th millennium, the planet of Aranaeus Prime was part of a broader interplanetary regime known as the Aranaeus Continuity, born of the dark age of technology and all the super science mankind so recklessly pursued during that age. The world was rich beyond imaginings in mineral wealth, which the continuity greedily exploited for the development of their thinking machines and wicked devices. While close in galactic terms to human core systems, Saul in particular, Aranaeus Prime had a mighty boon in comparison to other worlds, the presence of ancient warp gates of unknown provenance but superlative reliability. Through them, safe and expedient travel to the human galactic hub was assured. It flourished as all wealth of the continuity flowed outwards and all the prizes of the human galaxy flowed in, and for a time it was good. Then, as any sterling student in history will know, came the darker times. First the machine wars when the men of iron tore asunder the realms of their creators, then the Xeno invasions as the hordes of the other sought to exploit a weakened humanity, and then the night, the old night, known in chronicles as the age of strife. Warp storms, the likes of which our species had never seen, cast down the remaining human empires, sundering thousands of years of progress in barely a century. Even the warp gates of Aranaeus ceased to function, but against terrific odds, the continuity, well, continued. The regime, in overall control, the Technobility, managed to retain a semblance of society during the darkest millennia of the age of strife, persisting in the dark of a raging galaxy until, thousands of years later, the great crusade of the Imperium of Man would chance upon its existence. A patrol picket squadron of Imperial warships returning beyond campaign lines from the aftermath of the Gehenial prosecution breached the warp within continuity space, sometime during the earlier years of the crusade, whose horologues have unfortunately degraded to the point that we cannot tell with any precision. While the Aranaeus continuity had been spoken of in Terran records recovered during the unification wars, all astro cartographs, with its location, even ones that had not accounted for millennia of stellar drift, were hopelessly corrupted. The squadron's discovery of the continuity was completely by chance, and while their captains may have been initially overjoyed to find a fully-fledged, space-faring human realm so close to Terra, their joy was to turn to dismay when the ships that rushed to meet them opened fire, tripling the Imperial vessels before boarding and overwhelming them with ease. The cybernetically enhanced soldiery of the tech nobility easily overcame the Navus Imperialus armsmen, but not before an astrophatic distress call was hurled into the void. The eyes of the crusade and of the divisio militaris now turned upon the continuity hungrily for an industrialized volume of space clearly advanced and so close to critical crusade lines was a boon incalculable. As was standard contact practice during the years of the emperor's expanding empire, envoys were initially dispatched. Yes, the continuity had aborted imperial ships and killed imperial armed forces, but the Imperium was, even by this point, quite experienced in dealing with human systems traumatized by the Age of Strife and the horrors survival of old knight had forced them to both endure and perpetrate. Besides, the reports from the now slaughtered astropaths indicated a technologically advanced society, one best subsumed with diplomacy rather than battle, lest the cost of the latter in both manpower and resources run too high and the process of doing so damage the eventual prize. However, imperial hopes of a peaceful reunification were dashed as the continuity not only rebuffed the emperor's offers, but instead demanded that he, the master of mankind himself, submit to their rule as rightful inheritors of the legacy of old earth. The carrot, so to speak, had been proffered, and since it was rebuffed, now would come the stick. A detachment of the Seventh Legion Imperial Fists under Hashen Yonad, commander of the 39th household, was assembled to retake the continuity in the emperor's name. A veteran of terror's unification wars, and a titan of early crusade strategic thinking, Yonad's appointment spoke to the divisio militaris' concerns about the cost of the upcoming campaign. That Astarti's elements would be needed was beyond doubt, but to assign the stolid warriors of the Seventh, under the command of such a lauded captain, well, clearly indicated that imperial command expected heavy resistance, both in the void and planet side. Yonad's assembled host consisted of no less than 20,000 Seventh Legion Astartes, alongside millions of exertus imperialis' personnel, and several tag-matter of the Mechanicum of Mars, requested specifically, as there were many fears, that the lack of intelligence surrounding the continuity's technological capabilities had created. Given the priority, the assembly of an invasion force was stunningly fast, and when the fleet eventually burst into the continuity's local volume, the Technobility were granted their first sight of who they had actually been dealing with all along. Taken completely by surprise, the regime had its holdings reduced to just the world of Arania's prime within two solar months. Imperial forces, led by imperialists' Astartes, struck and overwhelmed key locations throughout the system, and Mechanicum Data Jinn sundered the poorly secured communications infrastructure and networks that the Technobility relied upon. For all their vaunted and well-guarded technological secrets, the cyberized soldiers of the continuity were no match for the emperor's Astartes, armed with the bolt guns of terror. Guarded and crippled, the humble Technobility surrendered utterly, submitting to the rules of the Aquila. It should have ended there. Another world made compliant, another recalcitrant regime crushed under the boot of Astartes' power armor, another lost human system delivered into the majesty of the Imperium. But fate, as is its want, had other plans. As the Imperial Fists sought to consolidate their hold over the Technobility's volume, and begin the work of post-compliance reconstruction, the systems of the continuity were assailed by a completely unknown Xenos enemy. The attack appears to have been as sudden as it was overwhelming, as the foe was not even positively identified. Mechanicum auger screeds were hopelessly corrupted, as sensorium suites across the invasion feet simply blew out, blinding the Imperials as the Xenos host tore through their ranks. Captain Yonad nevertheless ordered a wholesale retreat from the outlying systems, centering the Imperial defence around Araneus Prime. Scattered reports of lightning in the void and chrome wreathed in flame are all that has persisted. In the Warp Gates, Captain Yonad perceived a dire threat to the core worlds of humanity. Should these devices fall into enemy hands, defunct though they were, this unknown assailant could revive them, granting them direct access to systems only recently rendered compliant, presenting an almost existential threat to the nascent Imperium itself. He ordered their prompt destruction. And as the charges went off, as inexplicably as they arrived, the enemy vanished. Whether the gates had been a prize or a threat, none could say. No communication was ever opened, no parlay was ever given. But the destruction that had been meted out in the name of these gates was apocalyptic. All but one of the continuity's worlds, Araneus Prime itself, had been simply destroyed. And this world rendered unrecognisable. Stable tracts of its surface had been scoured of cities, with only the largest conurbation-surviving Xenos attacks, their largest atmosphere-scraping towers jutting out of an ashen wasteland like broken bones. It is unclear whether this is either where or whence the new name for the world now emerged, but apocryphally it is said that the Imperial Expedition looked out upon this new hellscape, took stock of the billions of humans that had perished, and named the planet in bitterly direct high gothic Necromunda, the world of the dead. Its war-born deliverance into the bosom of the Imperium of Man was not the only time in this era that the planet would feel the taint of the hated Xenos. Striking towards the core from the Empire of Calverna, a green-skinned invasion breached Imperial defense lines later during the Crusade, making full wake for Necromunda. Once again called to the task, the seventh legion, Imperial Fists, was again returned to the world's shores at the head of a Navus Imperialalis interdiction fleet. The defense was mounted in time to prevent a mass-ground incursion, as the Fists caught the ramshackle but numerous Xenos fleet in the void, burning their filthy ships from the skies. They were, however, unable to defend against the asteroid-based forces towed in system by the hated green-skins. A common and crude method of orbital insertion for this hateable species, these wholly-natural planetoids are packed full of orcs and hurled bodily planet-side, the green-skin not being an alien especially blessed with any sense of self-preservation. But the weight of fire thrown in their path by all Imperial ships within range. The asteroids breached the defense cordon and made catatlysmic planetfall around the southernmost Hive city cluster. Ordering a drop pod counter-assault, the Imperial Fist legion engaged the invaders in a battle that was as vicious as it was destructive, reducing the Hive cluster to absolute ruins as the hated Xenos gleefully indulged their appetite for carnage and slaughter. Even casualty records of the incident appear to have been redacted, but ancient ancestral memory of modern Necromunda's ash-waste clans speak of only a scant few refugees escaping the calamity for the comparative safety of the planet's desolations. Eager to move to rebuilding but wishing that no longer should the planet be left unaided, planetary administrators conducted a deal with the 7th Legion for the Astartes to permanently establish a hole-fast in the spire of Hive primus. An invitation that, while honourable of course, was nevertheless a boon to both the planet's security and reputation, and for Imperial Fist inductorii details. Necromunda was rich in many ways, but crucial amongst them was its sheer glut of manpower, all ready to offer up to the churning engine that was the Astartes recruitment process. The advent of the Horus Heresy, the betrayal of the Warmaster, ushered in a period of turmoil throughout the galaxy, and for Necromunda marked for it a beginning of a period that mirrored the experiences of how other planets had endured the Age of Strife. While the actual details of how the heresy played out in the shadows of the planet's hives during that calamitous conflict appear to be lost to Imperial history, what is known is that widespread instability led to an essential breakdown of law and order. The gubernatorial administrations of the heresy years gave way, even during the resurgent years of the Imperial scouring, following the traitor's defeat at Terra, to a constant stream of weak and ineffectual leaders who failed utterly to bring the Imperials rule to bear on the rest of population. As is typical of any situation where centralized authority breaks down, powerful figures emerged to carve out their own kingdoms amidst the confusion and tumult. These same figures and their strong arm coteries resisted the return of the Lex Imperialas with gusto. Industrial quotas and looming larger, the Great Tithe, eventually forced the hands of planetary governors to engage in all-out warfare, deploying planetary defense forces against warlord-held hives and manufacturer. Their attempts were, at least, valiant. During the latter centuries of M31, for instance, the first post-heresy governors waged a war known to chronicles as the Age of the Iron Lords. Terra's dew, as the Great Taxation of the Imperium was often known, has been the source of much conflict throughout the Empire's history, and the blood shed in the name of quotas to the throne stained the ash wastes bright red in these dark years. This to the gubernatorial Tithe campaigns was high, with many warlords swaying the common masses of the world to their side with the promise of better working conditions and better lives under their rule, utilizing the governor's own oppressive and brutal military actions against them. Unwilling to simply let the dearth of taxes continue, the adeptus administratum eventually grew weary of excuses and formally deployed Xector regiments subcontracted from the astromilitarum to the planet, in a direct intervention known as the First Great Pacification. Better trained and better paid than the ill-disciplined gubernatorial troops, the soldiery of the Bureaucrats made bloody examples of many a warlord, publicly torturing and executing them, as well as taking retribution on populations deemed wayward. Several of the Hive cities were subjected to formal decimation, a tenth of their populations exiled permanently to live lives as ash-waste tribes. The demise of the Iron Lords did not, however, mark the end of Necromundus Troubles. Years of the immediate aftermath of the Purge and decimation were decidedly more stable, it is true, with the most notable event being the formalized establishment by the Imperial Fists of the Spear of Dorne. The fortified Haldfast, building on the roots of the older Seventh Legion Citadel, marked what the planetary regime hoped was a renewal of the bonds between chapter and planet, and they eagerly contributed to the recruitment efforts the Fists exacted on Necromundus Populus. Having only just begun the recovery efforts to mitigate the staggering losses incurred during the War of the Beast, the Imperial Fists were eager to reap the benefits of Necromundus manpower. Despite the very public presence of Astartes' planet side once more, the power vacuum left by the death of the Iron Lords and the dissolution of their petty holdings was only exacerbated by the departure of off-world Administratum soldiery. Within a generation, the Lords had become martyrs in the great struggle between the haves and the have-nots, focal points around which a new wave of gang kings could agitate the citizenry against the crimes of the governors. The noble houses upon which the administration sought to rest the bulk of population repression initiatives came and went as they sparred amongst themselves, and once again the Imperial Government seemed capable of not but being helpless bystanders as internecine conflict consumed the planet's haves, and, crucially, production quotas began to cave off. Hundreds of figures emerged, all purporting to be the inheritors of the legacy of the Iron Lords, either by blood or ideology, only to have their hastily established territories and holdings stolen by usurpers or subsumed into the bulk of other, larger, ganger clans, who would then themselves suffer the same fate. All of these new houses attempted to supersede the governor's authority, seeking to strike trade and tithe deals with off-world Imperial organisations directly, vying to shuck the yoke of planetary government. Chaos reigned, anarchy was rearing its heads, and the Administratum would take no more. Unwilling to see the cycle continue for yet another iteration, they invoked a precedent quite rare in civilian Imperial life, petitioning the Imperial Fists for their assistance. The Rit of Terra was now meted out by none other than the Emperor's own Angels of Death. With bolt and blade they purged the entirety of the nobility, sealing off whole hives to exterminate the populations therein, cutting off heads both metaphorically and quite literally. Red Hive clan lords were, however, allowed to persist, now finding themselves nominally in charge following the purge, but operating under the watchful eyes of a huge number of newly arrived Adeptus Arbites peacekeepers, shipped in from off-world to ensure that the second great pacification would be the last. One final bastion of resistance, a last gasp of this old iron lord order, formed around the Gang King Siberia. Claiming to resist the oppression of the Administratum and the Emperor, Siberia issued a plea to all Necromundans to rise up en masse and overthrow the yoke of the oppressive Imperial regime. His agitation was short-lived, but it was not an arbitrator or an astartist that ultimately affected his demise, but a fellow low-hive ganger, one Martek Helmiar. Zero-twelve, M-34, is remembered in Necromundus' history as being the beginning of a period of change unprecedented since the first compliance efforts during the years of the Great Crusade. Martek Helmiar was not merely another Gang King, but a figure of towering ambition matched only by his utter ruthlessness. Simply seeking to build upon his very widely known defeat of Siberia, the Gang King approached none other than the Imperial Fists themselves, pledging to bring the Pax Imperialis to the entire planet within his lifetime. Impressed by, if nothing else, the sheer gumption of such gang trash, the Imperial Fists agreed to support him, withholding their own intervention but stipulating that Helmiar had only one hundred years to complete the task, starting that very day. The ensuing century saw Helmiar fully deliver on his oath to the chapter and the Imperium. Striking at rivals with unerring efficiency, the Gang King displayed a keen aptitude for all aspects of the cutthroat life he had led. Lethal force was affected just as often as political maneuvering targeted assassination or economic measures, but all were applied exactly and accurately, minimizing collateral damage to both the world's infrastructure and society, unless of course said damaged further to Helmiar's crusade in microcosm. Having the full backing of the Imperium was no doubt a game-changing boon, but the world had seen three centuries of chaos in the hands of failed governors imported from off-world, and was now seeing a total transformation at the hands of one of its own. It appeared to all onlookers and was spoken quite frequently that the solution had clearly presented itself. Necromunda needed a necromundan, a gang prince born of the hives in the sinks who had breathed recycled air and eaten recycled food since he could first walk. Romanticized, obviously, but this legend in particular was undeniably effective in Helmiar's meteoric rise to primacy. He delivered, and delivered in totality. One by one the hives pledged to him, each one that fell representing a massive force multiplier in both military and economic terms that the merciless ganger immediately employed on his next target. Before the century had even turned, the entire planet was willing to submit to the banner of the newly minted House Helmiar, and the gang king himself, counting his oath fulfilled, took upon his brow the mantle of planetary governor in the emperor's name. Now bearing the epithet of the Imperial House, the lords of Helmiar would continue their founders' legacy throughout the centuries that followed, consolidating their hold on Necromunda with wicked efficiency. All planetary spaceports outside of Hive Primus were forcibly dismantled, granting the House a total monopoly on all off-world trade. Nothing would leave the planet nor enter it without the governor and the imperial households direct say so. And while a thriving smuggling industry soon arose to compensate for this shipping stranglehold, Helmiar ruthlessness rose to meet it, with detachments of gun-cutters and monitor-sloops plying the skies of Necromunda and destroying any unauthorized air or void traffic. The House soon began to target what had deemed subversive bloodlines, family clans with ties to the iron lords of old, or any rebellious figures of note from the world's past. Those deemed of seditious ancestry were simply executed in massive public displays of imperial law enforcement, forcing thousands, who were either confirmed of or suspected of carrying illegal genes, to flee the hives for the wastes. Many with connections or wealth to their name took the even more dangerous route of attempting to book off-world travel under assumed identities. But the scrying eyes of the imperial house were many, and few, if any, who run this gauntlet succeeded in finding freedom and safety elsewhere across the imperial. Hives were not just limited to excising corruptive bloodlines, but extended to the formal ratification of others. Consolidation over an entire hive world, especially one as populous as Necromunda, could never be the sole purview of one house. And in order to delegate the power of that house, Helmiar ruled that the six clans of hive primus would now effectively control the six cardinal aspects of hive industry and economy. With all others officially subsumed into these, or granted rites of authority beneath the six, or simply declared superfluous to the emperor's needs, and thus outlaw. Two millennia after his rise, the last children of Helmiar were now succeeding in cementing their sire's legacy, as the final hives were brought fully into compliance with the new regime. The last true genetic descendant of Martek, Jar Helmiar, was a deformed and frail thing clinging to life in a nutrient vat, his frame a product of centuries of noble inbreeding and medical treatments to stave off mutancy. Seeking a grand rejuvenation of the familial line to lead house, hive, and world into a grand new age, the last scion of Martek spent his short and painful existence, contracting the age of genome splicers to harvest genetic material from the strongest clan lines planet wide, blending them in a wicked alchemy to provide a new template upon which the house would persist into the far future. 216 M36 marked the death of Jar and the original line, now ruling Necromunda, with a fist strengthened by the authority of Terra and the best gene science their wealth could afford, was house Helmiar. Until such a time as I may continue the tale of this world, Ave Imperator, Gloria, in excelsis Terra. This video and this channel were made possible thanks to the very kind donations and support from my Patreon subscribers. If you'd like to help support the channel, head on over to patreon.com slash Oculus Imperia. 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