Domus Discordia Chapter 10

The grand council chamber was a place where history had been written, where the fates of trillions were routinely debated and decided. The building was arranged into a T-shape, with a long nave that stretched away into the distance. The marble walls were lined with stained glass windows, beyond which could be seen the cold, starry night sky. One end of the nave boasted massively reinforced doors, like all Astartes constructions they were designed to hold off an army. The other end, where the nave met the cross-wings, was set under an arched dome supported by fluted columns.

Under that dome were a ring of seats, the chairs of the Storm Herald's Masters. Here they would debate and discuss the most important actions of their Chapter, though the final decision would always rest with the Chapter Master. Astartes were warriors not politicians, orders were to be obeyed not questioned, or so the theory went. Recent events had thrown all that into doubt, now the smallest thing would have to be agreed upon before action could be taken.

All this went through Toran's mind as he walked into the grand council chamber, passing by the reinforced doors. He was walking calmly at a measured pace, his armour purring to itself as he slowly proceeded. With him were Ninth Captain Phalros and Chapter Master Gorgall, entering the chamber as one to show their solidarity. They were surrounded by Honour Guards, even now no chances were being taken.

Toran peered ahead and saw some of the Masters had already assembled, Chief Librarian Echeb and Seventh Captain Maxitio, waiting patiently. The chairs of the Second and First Captains were shrouded, their posts unfilled, the First Company now reported to Gorgall directly. The Techmarines had refused to attend, saying they would respect the outcome regardless. In other words they were keeping themselves out of the coming political wrangling. The last officer present was Tenth Captain Judio, bearing a huge Powerfist. He wasn't looking at the approaching Chapter Master and Toran knew that Phalros' own attempts to sway him hadn't been nearly as successful as Toran's meeting with Maxitio.

Toran noticed that Lessall and his followers hadn't arrived yet, whereas tradition dictated the Chapter Master should arrive last. A not-so-subtle snub before the talk had even begun. Gorgall led to their chairs and they settled down, waiting patiently, they weren't about to let Lessall and Samect upset them.

Minutes dragged by in silence and Toran knew this was a deliberate attempt to wrong-foot them. Then at last he heard the sounds of approaching boots. Through the doors came Lessall and Samect, in their glorious armour. With them came four Captains, equally glorious in raiment and weaponry. To the right was Fourth Captain Jossat, with a double-headed axe at his belt. Besides him was Fifth Captain Tygra, bearing an Eviscerator across his back, the weapon of an honourless cur. To the left was Sixth Captain Erathor, looking as arrogant as ever, in Toran's opinion. He bore twin lighting claws, currently retracted, a far too beautiful pair of weapons for the likes of him. Last was Hakulo with a savage sneer upon his face and a long power spear in hand, stained with the blood of heretics.

These were the heart of the Emperor-Worshippers cause and yet Toran knew that one of them wasn't what he seemed, someone in that group was secretly passing messages to Gorgall. Who was it, Toran wondered. Jossat's ambition had driven him to make mistakes in the past but his successes eclipsed his errors. Tygra was cunning and sly, if anyone could keep up a façade it would be him. Erathor perhaps but Toran didn't believe anyone could fake such arrogance and Hakulo was a savage, no subtly at all to him.

As the Emperor-Worshippers sat down in their chairs Gorgall didn't rise to greet them, a subtle snub of his own. Once everybody was settled Gorgall spread his hands and said, "Welcome Brother-Captains and Masters to the first strategic conference since the Noctis Aeterna swept over us. Harsh times we have seen and harsh words we have exchanged. Yet now we can celebrate the unexpected return of Third Company and we are united once more."

Lessall started his jockeying by saying, "Much good it does us, for years we've cooped up here and you have done nothing!"

Gorgall let that pass and said, "The time for petty grudges is past, let us look to the future. Echeb, if you will."

The Chief Librarian pressed a rune on his chair, activating an overhead Hololithic projection of the galaxy. As the only truly neutral party here Echeb began the briefing, "As you have read in the briefing packets I sent you all, the galaxy is at war. Chaos is in the ascendant and the Imperium is hard pressed. Imperial worlds fall, Chaos incursions erupt everywhere and humanity's armies either retreat or die where they stand. The northern half of the galaxy has been split off by this, 'Cicatrix Maeldictum' creating what is being called the Imperium Nihilus."

Tenth Captain Judio leaned in and asked, "What of Terra?"

Echeb answered, "Few reports and much confusion. The High Lords live, this we know and they are preparing a response, a new Crusade. There is talk of a new 'Lord Commander of the Imperium', but we aren't sure who it is."

"Who cares?" Jossat sneered, "What does it matter if they promote a stuffed-up General, probably some pompous blow-hard who knows more about table manners than handling his weapons."

Lessall agreed with him, "Politicians and clerks, their weakness has plunged the Imperium into ruin. We should not listen to them."

Phalros angrily barked, "They remain the Emperor's appointed governors!"

Tygra responded, "Fools, fops and failures all. Those men have brought us nothing but sorrow, their leadership will be nothing but more of the same."

Phalros stated, "Strange since you have spent the last few years loudly proclaiming that they were dead."

Angrily Samect declared, "The Divine-Emperor deserves better than those frauds, humanity deserves true leadership. The Astartes should be leading the Imperium, not those weaklings."

Phalros growled, "The Lex Imperalis is clear, Astartes were made to fight, not to govern."

"The Lex Imperalis," Lessall sneered, "Imperial law is nothing but a pile of dusty scrolls. Those restrictions are shackle upon our ankle, the time has come to cast it off."

Now Phalros barked, "That is not your decision to make!"

Gorgall cut him off saying, "Lets us not revisit tired old arguments but look to the future. The question before us is what do we do now?"

Toran heard his cue and said, "Our first duty must be to stabilise the galaxy."

"What madness is this?" Jossat spat, "Where would we start with such a task?"

Toran explained, "Consider the topography of the Immaterium. We are acting like this insanity is confined to the northern reaches of the galaxy but that is not true. Look closer to home."

He pointed at a series of vicious warp storms lying across the borders of Segmentums Solar and Tempestus. Then he said, "Look here and here and also here, these were once the primary warp routes from the core worlds surrounding Terra to the southern reaches of the galaxy. Without these only short, dangerous Warp-jumps are possible, taking decades to travel distances that should take weeks. Now all of the major routes are obstructed, effectively cutting off the southern third of the Imperium."

Jossat begrudgingly admitted, "All the fastest and most reliable warp routes are gone… all but one."

Captain Phalros leaned forwards and said, "The Saint Karyl Trail."

Toran nodded, "Indeed no longer a mere Pilgrim Trail, our Chapter now sits at the heart of the only navigable route left between Segmentums Solar and Tempestus. Ships from across half the Segmentum will be forced to divert thousands of light years to traverse this Trail, carrying essential material for the Forges of Terra and Mars. Not only that but also thousands of troop ships, carrying whole armies of Guardsmen and Mass-Conveyors loaded with giga-tonnes of munitions, fuel, rations and equipment. Vital munitions and reinforcements for the wars raging across the galaxy."

Phalros stated, "If we set off to find the biggest war can then our Chapter could save a dozen worlds on our own but if we dedicate ourselves to keeping this supply-line open we could save tens of thousands of planets. The teachings of the Codex are clear; our duty must be to hold this warp route for the Imperium."

Lessall's eyes narrowed at his rival's words and he growled, "This is all well and good but the Primarchs themselves could not control the tides of the Warp. What exactly are we supposed to do if a fresh warp storm erupts here?"

Echeb spoke up to say, "We know next to nothing of the nature of the warp, it is a reality that would sear the sanity of even the strongest man. Yet one inference we can make is that it responds to the mental state of humanity. Panic, terror, despair and suffering, these stir the warp into a frenzy."

Toran declared, "Then we must act to calm the fears of the populace across the whole Saint Karyl Trail. The people need to hear tales of glorious victories and enemies slain; they need to see the Emperor's Finest in action. What the Imperium needs right now are a series of quick and decisive victories, to boost Imperial morale and calm the populace."

Samect sounded suspicious and said, "What specifically are you suggesting?"

Toran answered, "There are plenty of mundane threats in the region we could crush. Here for example, several weeks warp travel past Sacellum, lies the notorious pirate enclave of Tort-tuga. A plague upon the Pilgrim Ships and Mass-Conveyors."

"Pirates?" snorted Erathor, "That is beneath the dignity of the Astartes, the Imperial Navy should handle that scum."

Lessall sneered, "They have known of this pathetic base for decades and done nothing about it."

Yet Toran pressed, "A single Battle-Company could swiftly obliterate their entire base. Removing a threat to Imperial shipping and sending a clear statement that the Imperium can and will strike back at those who oppose the Emperor's will."

Erathor scoffed, "A paltry victory, so easy its barely worth mentioning."

Yet Hakulo spoke up to say, "Easy victories are exactly what we need right now, a series of wins at little to no cost. Imperial morale will be boosted by seeing the Emperor's Angels in action."

"This is beneath a Battle-Company, not worthy of our time," Jossat jeered, "If you lot care so much about the hearts of mortals, then one of you should go."

Lessall's eyes suddenly widened in a horrified realisation but before he could object Seventh Captain Maxitio spoke up. He had been waiting for this, as arranged and he declared, "I second that, this is no fit task for a Battle-Company. The Reserves can handle it, so I nominate Ninth Captain Phalros for the action."

"Now wait a minute…" Lessall spluttered as he saw his rival's plan at last but it was already too late.

Gorgall raised his voice and declared, "I accept your advice and as Chapter Master my decision is made. Phalros, you shall take Ninth Company and the Strike Cruiser Legacy of Glory. You shall eradicate these pirate scum without mercy, but leave one alive to tell the tale. Thus shall we strike the first blow of our new offensive. This will be our first triumph and more shall follow, each of you will receive new tasking orders in due course. The Storm Herald's time of inaction has ended, for the Imperium and Him on Terra we strike now."

Angry faces arose as the Emperor-Worshippers realised that they had just handed the first glories to their rivals. Lessall in particular was looking aggrieved. Toran could tell that he was angry but it was too late, if he argued now he would look foolish. Toran knew that despite Lessall's conniving plots he couldn't oppose the Chapter Master directly in matters of war. The Captains by Lessall's side followed his teachings but orders were orders and they would obey, at least in public.

However if Toran could have gazed into Lessall's mind he wouldn't have been nearly as confident. The Chief Apothecary was fuming and yet not worried, for there was a silver lining in this. Gorgall had just committed to sending his most ardent supporter and a third of his followers away. Far away from the Fortress-Monastery, where they couldn't interfere with what was to come.

In Lessall's mind he hastily adjusted his plans, a slight delay until Phalros was gone and then the odds would slide inexorably in the Emperor-Worshipper's favour. Gorgall didn't know it but he had just signed his own death warrant.