Horus turned as Torgaddon and Aximand returned. Bowing their heads, they rejoined their brothers, and to Abaddon Aximand looked quite unnerved.
++ Something bothering you, Little Horus? ++ he asked across the Mournival private channel.
++ Do you remember me saying once that the Alpha Legion freaked me out, as I could never trust their motives? ++
++ You said that their skill at subterfuge was to be admired, but the fact that you never knew where their end game was going to be was unnerving ++ Loken reminded them ++ Why? ++
++ Have any of you ever noticed that Omegon and Alpharius are the same height? ++
++ He is just an exceptionally tall Astarte ++ Torgaddon shrugged ++ it has been known to happen, rare as it is ++
Aximand shook his head. ++ It isn't Omegon that bothers me, it's Alpharius... or rather, 'Alpharius' ++ He scowled beneath his helmet. ++ I do not trust them ++
The other three Mournival brothers glanced at each other: Aximand's melancholia was known, but even this was too far for him. Abaddon removed his helm and tucked it under his arm; as if it was a hidden signal, the others did like the esteemed First Captain.
"Ezekyle," Horus quietly spoke as the next vessel arrived in line with the Great Khan and the Beta, "perhaps you would like to greet Perturabo for me."
Abaddon bowed his head and left the chamber. Tarik turned to his brothers and ran a hand through his close-cropped hair. "I did not think Perturabo would answer the call."
"Why not?" Horus asked
"I mean no disrespect, Lord," Tarik inclined his head, "but like Lords Curze and Angron, Perturabo is not particularly sociable; none of the Iron Warriors are, as far as I'm concerned."
"I do not blame them for that," Loken mused, "being stuck in siege warfare is not good for morale; no wonder they are a little moody."
Horus joined his remaining favoured sons and sat down, motioning for them to join him. He looked at the ring that his father had given him, and was silent for a moment, contemplating the Dreadful Sagittary.
"A lot of Perturabo's achievements have been overshadowed by Rogal Dorn, and the rest by the various other Primarchs. I have done my best to limit that, recently, though that has only caused more tension with my other brothers - Corax... But Dorn and Perturabo - they could have been twins, for they think alike, and their strategies are similar. I always said that the greatest war of attrition possible would be the Iron Warriors laying siege to one of the Imperial Fists' bastions. I was joking at the time; but now… now I am not so sure, my sons. Perturabo is closest, among all of us, to myself and Magnus, and perhaps Fulgrim. Him and Jaghatai - those are the two Primarchs I was most sure about. Though, if Russ will come, anything is possible." He paused, looking down at the Sagittary again. "I still dream that Magnus is carrying out some elaborate prank."
"I have not received the impression Magnus was inclined to pranks, my lord," Loken respectfully spoke.
Horus smirked dryly. "In that, Garvi, you are correct; as much as his psychic power awes me, for there is only one man whose psychic ability is greater than Magnus's, his stores of learning are equally vast, and they have made him a serious being.
"Perhaps more then any of us, Magnus values the knowledge of the worlds he brings into compliance. I know that Russ and others, myself included, have stated that the Thousand Sons are scholars first and warriors second; but then, if it were not for the vast amount of knowledge that the Thousand Sons have accumulated, the true scholars would know so much less.
"When it comes to the Warp, I must listen to Magnus or else to my father. After Nikaea, Magnus took a great risk coming to me at all. I should have, if I had stayed loyal, sent him to Terra in chains. But I never will. Magnus is just as loath to break Father's laws as I am, but he did it for a reason, and so - well, the road from listening to Magnus leads directly here." Horus picked his wine goblet up. "And Perturabo and Jaghatai, and the Wolf King, will listen too, even if Russ does not want to. By the Throne, he is harder to contain then Angron and Curze sometimes," Horus sighed.
"Or us," Tarik mused, which got a chuckle all around.
"That is true, my son." Horus smiled, and when he did so, his sons smiled with him. "We are, after all, the Luna Wolves, and we are the strongest Legion."
"Lupercal!" they chorused.
Horus nodded and returned his gaze to his viewport. The easy two were here, plus the one he should have expected; and Russ was coming. Anything was possible.
He looked back at the Sagittary.
Anything, except what he really wanted.
The Iron Blood moved to anchor above the Great Khan, and the Stormbird left its hull. Abaddon watched as it crossed the distance of vacuum between its mothership and the Vengeful Spirit. He had six of his Terminators with him; the Justaerin were Horus's honour guard, so he had instead chosen from Squad Tempus.
He moved to one knee, as did the rest of his guard, as the Stormbird came in and the ramp lowered to allow Perturabo and his First Captain down the ramp.
"My lord Perturabo, welcome aboard the Vengeful Spirit. Primarch Horus apologises for being unable to meet you personally, but he will meet you in the great chamber shortly." Abaddon kept his gaze to the floor.
He had gazed upon The Comrade once before, and it had almost taken his breath away. His visage was, despite everything, what humans would consider beautiful. But unlike his brothers, Perturabo never smiled. In fact, Abaddon could not recall ever seeing the lord of Olympia smile, in any of his numerous meetings with the Lord of Iron.
"Thank you, Ezekyle," the deep voice of Perturabo responded. "Rise, First Captain, and tell me who else is here."
Abaddon nodded at the Terminators of Squad Tempus, who fell into step behind Perturabo and Forrix.
"Lords Alpharius and Jaghatai have not long since arrived, my lord; and Lord Magnus is here, and has been for several months," Abaddon explained.
Perturabo arched a slight eyebrow at the mention of the Crimson King's long stay; but he said nothing on the matter. He liked Abaddon, so he did not perceive Horus's absence as an insult, The Luna Wolves' First Captain had a reputation to be proud of, and it was earnt in the crucible of war. Of course there were those who believed absurd stories about his origins, even that he was Horus's gene son from a time before the Emperor, but he tried not to listen to such whispers. Like all Space Marines, Abaddon worshipped his Primarch, and his additional low tolerance for nonsense meant that focusing on said nonsense would lead to some amount of carnage.
As for Perturabo, honour was satisfied, and now the Lord of Iron was contemplating other recent events.
"Tell me, Ezekyle," Perturabo asked, "why Loken?"
"Why Loken is in the Mournival, my lord?"
"In the Mournival, yes - he is not a true son, is he?"
Abaddon smirked a little. "He is a warrior without peer… and he beat me to the punch."
Forrix laughed and even Perturabo nodded in amusement. "You beaten to the punch… I have to meet this pup," Forrix clapped Abaddon on the shoulder, "and it's your round, Ezekyle."
They passed through the Vengeful Spirit, in fairly high spirits for the Lord of Iron, and Abaddon even forgot the dark reason they were meeting in the first place.
To the extent that he knew it at all, Perturabo did not.
Angelus and his men made their way, slowly, towards the bridge. They looked into every quarter they came past to see crewmembers slumped in varying dead poses. They had all seen the horrors war could inflict on mortal bodies, indeed, they still recalled the beasts of Caliban from their own time as mortals. This, however was almost - well, surreal, if Angelus was honest. He gripped his bolter tighter and stared down at the body of a shipsrating. He was in a state of undress, and some would say his back looked like he had been scratched by a woman in the throes of passion; but no woman that Angelus had ever known could leave scratches so deep the muscle and bone shone through.
The Heart of Chemos was like a grave, and the nearer they got to the bridge, the more the lights started dimming. Unease settled across them all. It was not a feeling that they were used to, not one that was normally associated with Astartes, especially Astartes of the First Legion.
Angelus found himself muttering a benediction to the Emperor and the Lion. It was something he had doubted he would ever do, but in this mausoleum, he was not given to rationality.
++ Captain Angelus, there was some sort of explosion down here ++ Reclusiarch Bedano's voice came across his private vox.
++ Casualties? ++ Angelus demanded.
++ Plenty, brother, there are bodies floating in space - and the Gellar field is broken. Brother, if they were in the Warp when this happened… ++ Bedano's voice trailed off.
He had no need to explain any further; everyone, from the lowliest shipsrating to the highly respected and feared Navigators, knew that there were terrors in the Warp. To have a hull breach in the Warp, the Astartes knew well, was a catastrophe beyond words. It was an explanation, perhaps a better one, now, than rebellion. The downside was that it could explain nearly any sort of madness, not only this one; and besides, the Heart of Chemos had somehow gotten to the rendezvous point. Perhaps someone had survived?
++ Are there any Emperor's Children there? ++ Angelus wanted to know.
Bedano was silent for a moment, then slowly answered ++ No, brother; but judging by the state of the bodies, they were shot by Astartes weaponry, and the bodies look as if they were welcoming it ++
++ If they were possessed by the creatures of the warp then I can see why ++ Angelus sighed ++Meet me on the bridge; we are about to make our way through to it now ++
Bedano acknowledged the order, and then stood staring at the bodies for a moment or two. He was responsible for the spiritual fortitude of his battle-brothers, a Chaplain by another name, and yet – whilst he would follow his father on whatever course he chose for the Legion, any fate like this sat ill with him. A lot of what they did made him proud to be a Dark Angel: taking the worlds of man back from the non-believer, the heretic and xenos scum, destroying those that would defer the rule of the Emperor and who would not see him as Humanity's rightful god. But this, this was something else entirely. Because it did not look like this was a simple involuntary Warp breach.
He motioned with his crozius, and the Astartes went to leave, only to be confronted by reanimated corpses behind a behemoth of an Astarte. Bedano cocked his head to one side as his sigils flashed over the Emperor's Child.
The cogitator registered him as Brother Calinianous, a friendly of Medasa's company, though right now he did not look very friendly at all.
++ Cousin, it is I, Bedano of the First Legion Astartes, the Dark Angels. What has gone on here? And what are those monstrosities behind you? ++
Calinianous glanced behind him, and then back at the Reclusiarch and his Squad. ++ They serve the one true God of power, cousin - as will you ++
++ We all serve the Emperor; that is not in question. Stand aside, cousin, and let me put these wretches to sleep so that they may stand at the side of the Emperor in spirit. ++
++I think not; did the Emperor not say that we were to choose our own way? Well, we have, and our way is so much more than even the Emperor can give to us. This is the ability to follow perfection to all its levels! ++
Bedano was losing his patience; the Emperor's Children had always been prideful fops, but this was worse. When the Lion had chosen his lot, he had fallen in with the Emperor, not the hedonistic deity called Slaanesh. He gripped his crozius and ordered his squad to raise their weapons. ++ Stand aside, cousin ++
++It is you, cousin, who should stand aside and allow the glory of She–Who–Thirsts into your heart ++
Bedano had heard enough and barked at his men to open fire.
Angelus heard the firefight come over his vox unit; but before he could do anything about it, the bridge doors opened to reveal a sight of decadence such as he had never seen, even as a human. And lounging on the command throne, there was the captain of both the vessel and the 69th Company Emperor's Children, Medasa. Around him, crewmembers in various states of undress were engaging in - well, some of them were merely smoking powerful narcotics, while others were playing some sort of sexual theatrical production, but none seemed to be actually managing the vessel. There was a haze of smoke that smelt like some ancient temple in the air.
Angelus was not in the least bit amused by his old battle comrade's behaviour.
"What is the meaning of this shambles?" he bellowed, causing Medasa to turn his head. "Well, cousin?"
Medasa went back to watching the bridge crew's drama and ignored his cousin's demand - until Angelus grabbed him by the shoulder and roughly pulled him to his feet.
"We are supposed to be taking the Ortega System for the Lion and the Phoenician. What is your explanation, Cousin? Why are those mortals not dressed, and why is the rest of your crew dead?!"
Medasa grabbed Angelus's hand and roughly shoved him away. "I got bored waiting for you, so I took the liberty of livening things up around here."
Medasa was slim for an Astartes, but he was no less powerful for it. Like his beloved Phoenician, his hair was a snow white, and his blue eyes seemed glassy with whatever he had been inhaling. He was also, like many of his brothers, a gifted swordsman; and although Jaffara Angelus was no slouch with a sword, he knew his counterpart was one of the best swordsmen in a Legion full of blademasters. He would lose a duel, and lose it badly.
"By leaving your crew to the elements of the Warp?! Cousin, have you gone mad? Bedano, get up here - Bedano, what, by the mane of the Lion, is going on there? Bedano, answer me!"
All he got in reply was bolter fire and roars to the Lion and the Emperor in his ear. Those, he supposed, spoke for themselves; and they did not sound like victorious screams. He ripped his helmet off and glared at Medasa.
"I am going to take you all back to Chemos in disgrace for this!" Angelus snarled. "You have gone against the Emperor's wishes!"
"The Emperor's wishes? I thought they were our father's wishes," Medasa mused.
"His wishes are enacted through the will of the Primarchs," Angelus shot back. "You have sunk so low from what you should be - you are no better then xenos by now!"
Medasa narrowed his eyes. "The Emperor's Children are not privy to the Dark Angels' laws. We do as we are told, but not by the likes of you. Get off my ship; and after Ortega has been dealt with, you and I will have a reckoning."
"Are we not allies, Medasa?"
"You are beneath my notice."
Angelus shook his head. He had his orders; but he was also a son of the Lion, and he knew that if he allowed this madman back to his own Legion, he would only encourage madness and chaos to spread even further. Bedano's last scream echoed from his helmet, which he held by his side; suddenly, he realised his own thought processes were being compromised, possibly irreversibly, by the accursed fog. How long had it even been since he had entered the ship? He would perhaps recover, but it was best to minimize risk. This disaster needed to end, by any means necessary.
++ Pride of Caliban, Sergeant Orseria, come in ++
++ I hear you Captain, ++
++ Target this vessel and destroy it ++
++ Captain? ++
++ You heard me; the ship and company are yours. Inform our father that the Emperor's Children of the Heart of Chemos were tainted ++
There was silence for a moment; then, Sergeant Orseria acknowledged his Captain's words. Distantly, Angelus felt the first impacts of ordnance on the Heart of Chemos's hull. The Third Legion vessel was quite incapable of firing back. Medasa continued to lounge.
Angelus raised his bolt pistol. "In the name of the Lion," he whispered, and fired.
