Chapter 33: Sober Second Thoughts


Horus Lupercal's half-dream had closed itself off from her, then flung the Alicorn princess back with enough force that it felt like whiplash. The sensation of rocky ground came with the same uncomfortable tumble of flying head over haunch before skidding to a juddering halt in an awkward tangle of limbs.

"Mmmph, waash-aye really shho bad?" The Alicorn slurs thickly before the fugue clears and well before she regains full control of her tongue. Luna groans and covers her muzzle with her forelegs to stymie the undignified sound. Her ears ring from the impact, but she tries to right herself on instinct. Instead, the princess flops on her right side with an 'oomph' and kicks her hind legs uselessly against the dustless hardpan.

Her world swims, but the Alicorn princess recognizes her ungainly position in a tangled heap with her gaze staring out into the deep blue-black blur of an admittedly pedestrian night sky. The rhythmic sound of crashing waves...

'Wait, is that... applause?'

"Princess Luna?!" A familiar voice finally forces itself over the sickening hum in her ears. She knows who it belongs too but putting a name to it is hard, though she can see the blur of lavender with a shock of crimson mar the pristine black blanket she was staring up into. The blob figure hovers just in front of Luna's face, an expression of worry slowly emerging after a second or two. Twilight Sparkle gently reaches down to help as Luna finally forces her own eyes to uncross.

The image of a clapping draconequus and a floating sign saying '#1 Princess of Dissent' slowly drifts past a now-confused Twilight.

"Princess?" Twilight lofts a brow and a second groan echoes from behind Luna. "Sunset? Are you two okay?"

"We are fine, Twilight." Luna said but couldn't help but flop from her side to her belly. It would have been nice to just stay like that for a bit. A mauve smudge stops next to what she was mostly certain was Twilight, giving the shape some sort of pause and look before ungainly wobbling past.

"I swear I cracked my horn... Princess Luna?" Sunset's hoof gently nudges the ruler's rump, getting an irritated tail flick in response. "Can we not do that again? Like, ever? I feel like everything between my ears and tail just got turned to salami."

"Well, you're back at least and look okay." Starlight says from behind Luna as the Alicorn unsteadily finds her hooves. "Okay, easy question, how many hooves am I holding up?"

"F-uuugh, fear not, Empathy." Luna's royal cadence even wobbles as she rises to all fours and spins in a staggering half circle to offer a helping hoof to the Unicorn. Sunset lay sprawled out; a disoriented lilt to her half-askew eyes, splayed ears, and miserable frown. "Y-you did wonderful work and We shall reward you, verily."

"What's salami?" Twilight lofts a brow, and between the pair they manage to slowly heave the bright hued Unicorn up to all fours.

Maybe it was the fugue she found herself in, or maybe it was some morbid 'other Equestria' thing, but the Unicorn unthinkingly answers. "All of them, Starlight. Mmmmph." she reaches up feebly and misses Starlight's outstretched hoof. "Twiiii, I'm not even sure I could say it's the same every time. Salami's, ... ugh, salami's just a bunch of left over mashed meats and pepper in an intestinal tu-"

"Eeeew, stop-stop! I get the picture!" Twilight cringes, eye twitching at the information.

"It's not good for you." Sunset mumbles as she stands, clamping a hoof to her horn with a low and definitely unhappy groan.

"That's not sur- wait, wasn't that on the cafeteria menu in... you know what, never mind." Twilight sighs and peers over her friend, "Just stay still. We have to make sure you two are okay."

"Oh but princesses, you aren't just okay. You're absolutely fantastic!" Discord's little revelry and the accolades of what sounds like an entire stadium echo from the eldritch hued world. But as the Draconequus gracefully spins and loops through the air, he slips between Sunset and Luna, placing a paw and claw on them respectively. "It looks like your little friend is up and ready to go again, oooooh I can't tell you how fun this is going to be. But I know the others, they're not going to take this lying down, and you haven't stopped it all yet. Mmmm, maybe in time they'll have friendship and harmony, blah-blah-blah, or their stars will keep screaming. i mean, really, who can say?" He smiles and leers at a very uncomfortable looking Sunset, then a stern Luna.

"Speak your peace and be done with it." Luna mutters, the little bit of pressure on her back causing a radiating pain in her deadened wing.

The ruby eyes sparkle as Discord coos, "Oh, oh I have. But how does it feel, Luna? To have the ear of the one of the two most powerful conquerors in an entire galaxy? To be the puppeteer, if you so choose, to rise ascenda-"

"Enough!" Luna snarls, "I did this to help, not to hurt. I'm done with that."

The Draconequus's smile doesn't falter. In fact, it grows wider. "You seemed to enjoy shooting magical lasers and pounding evil spirits into paste. Could it be? Has little Loony Moony been repressing a mean streak all this time?"

"Did you want to find out?" Her reply was directed to him, but Twilight's head rears back and even Sunset and Starlight share a look at the coldness.

"Oh, oooooh." the prince of chaos laughs in a disconcertingly good natured way. "C'est tres manifique, perfecto bella, simply superb! Mmmph-" the Draconequus pecks the tips of his claws to his lips, feigning the gourmet chef's kiss. "Excellent base, bit of acid bite, needs just a bit more seasoning. Why, I do declare, princess, a little bit more and you'll be perfect."

"Perfect? Perfect for what?" Twilight cautiously asks while staring warily at him.

"Why, to greet a new and dawning day of... well, even I'm not entirely sure. Oh, Twilight? You know that little quip when ol' birdy told you that you are the end of an era and the start of something new?" Discord smirks as the Alicorn blanches.

"Y-you heard that?" Twilight's stutter all but matches the wobbling quake of her knees.

"Oh and much much more. But he wasn't lying, exactly. It's just a teeny-tiny little half truth. You are changing things. And so is miss Meany Pants here." Discord taps the tip of Luna's nose, getting an ear twitch and continued sharp glare. "But now, oh, Horus Lupercal will remember your choices. The future is changing." A blurt of sound arises from nowhere. It was some sort of musical chime that the Prince of Chaos seemed to find appropriate, judging by his little wane grin. Neither Alicorn, nor the visibly uncomfortable Unicorns make mention of it beyond Twlight's ear-flick.

"So, where is he?" Luna snorts, "Why can't I-"

"Search your feelings, young Luna." The male's long curved talon prods at her chest tuft and smirks as she puffs out like a bird, "You know it to be true!"

"Know what?" Sunset mumbles with a lofted brow.

Discord rolls his eyes, "Oh c'mon, miss plane hopper. You should know this ref-, you know what, never mind. It's not worth it. Look, the point is..." he seems to think, then swiftly combs his talons through Luna's fur. His claws dig furrows through her coat as he twists her head this way and that like he was looking for lice. The indignant red flush and murder-glare cast in his direction mostly dies with a whinnied yowl as he takes her left wing and pulls. Luna's body shudders in pain, her head stretching forward and mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

"Princess?!" Sunset and Twilight call as one while Sunset just looks aghast.

"Bingo!" Discord smirks.


Despite the storm of shells raining towards Aximand's newly arrived Sons of Horus breachers, the press of bodies hadn't slackened. blood curdling cries echo from simian throats as Davinites rush at them with brass axes and wielding ancient wheellock firearms. Billows of stinking blackpowder meld with the perfectly refined legion bolters, lighting the interior of the Delphos with help from the primitive bonfires still blazing in the corners. All of them reflect the ocean of blood spilled across dark reflective surfaces to turn it into some cavernous sanguine lake in the darkness.

A shot from the Volkite streams past the Lupercal, the primarch almost preternaturally turning his shoulder sideways to avoid the searing ruby beam. The scowl grows and he snatches a combi-bolter from a Justarian as a parent would snatch a toy from an errant child. The torrent of fire brackets the caliver support squad, toppling two from bolts sweeping across at head height. Shots from Aximand's newly arrived forces and the rest of the Justarian finally drive the group from the top of the monolith, leaving another broken legionnaire hanging awkwardly over the edge.

Horus's bodyguards form up around the warrior god, their prisoner held at the point of an axe by Kibre. But the looks of relief from his warriors were impossible to miss.

"Lets get you out of here!" Abaddon snarls, interposing himself between Horus and the foe. Shots streak out from behind them as a Word Bearers squad advances plinth to plinth before finally sidling up behind one of the tiered terraces on the farthest side of the grotto. They had likely emerged from one of the untouched tower runnels from further back.

"Not until I know where she went. I can still smell her and feel that... that..." Horus trials off in a frustrated snarl as his cheek trembles with an errant twitch. But another bestial noise draws the legionnaire's attention, and the chanting falls silent.

Loken pulls Torgaddon aside in the lull. "Something's wrong here, Tarik."

"Oh, something's wrong, is it? Lets try, everything." Torgaddon huffs and clutches the empty bolter across his chest.

But Loken shakes his head, "This is a line company."

Torgaddon and Vipus both seem to pick it up in a second, "No breachers, no terminators, but they're fighting in this cramped sink? Where's their support?" Vipus hisses, "You're right, something's-"

Further inspection dies in a heartbeat as a reeking odor of noxious waste and rot assaults their senses, clogging even the scrubbers of the terminators and eliciting more than one groan of disgust. Something bleak and dark chitters and scuttles from the doorway that Locasta and the Justarian had used. Even the legionnaires started to take a few steps back as the beast emerges in all its ruinous glory.

It was massive, a lurching fecund body of some immense centipede, ringed and coloured an off-green like some immense writhing maggot. it's little more than a horrific collection of body-parts. Its lower half is a trailing collection of tangled arms and legs melded together, working in some discordant rhythm to propel the scuttling abomination towards them. Its entire upper body is formed of fused corpses with dozens of open mouths, while a fan of conjoined arms tipped in sharpened bone surrounds the single fat head like a swaying halo.

Its feminine tone rasps in a voice wet with mucous, "We are here Horus. Horse tainted. Horus. Fallen son."

It scuttles into the main chamber, but Horus just huffs indignantly. "You don't get to call her that, spirit. Only I do. Now, I've had enough of your kind for one day. Ceifador!"

The strange utterance draws his sons gaze to him. And where there was nothing before, a shimmering blue-black halberd rests easily in his clutches, dancing with eldritch blue sparks. Despite the halt of the Justarian around him and the momentary surprise evident by stiffening postures of all those that had witnessed the spectacle, the Lupercal stands defiant.

"Horus, we have to leave now!" Abaddon presses his back to the Warmaster's immense frame, staring hard at the tide of bestial ab-humans clambering from the stairs and swarming through the darkened halls. He unsheathes his crackling broadsword from the innards of a satyresque woman and, with a sweep of his lightning claws, tears her upper body from the blue cloaked steel.

Horus Lupercal stands stock still, teeth gritted as the obsidian clad guard hem him in. The towering maggot monstrosity splayed between two pillars was too high up for even Ceifador to reach. "Don't stand in my way, Abaddon." his vicious snarl instinctively pricks the hairs at the back of the First Captain's neck, "I will not stand here and listen to its insults a moment longer. Just remove her from her perch."

The Justarian that still have munitions, a pitiful duo and no more, raise their combi-bolters and fire a clattering staccato at the daemonic worm. Pocks of sickly green ichor and unsightly fluids bubble from exploded craters that ripple across its body, walking across its disgusting mass and bursting among the tangled hedge of interlocked human limbs keeping it attached to the pillars.

"You shall listen! You stink of horse flesh. Your perversions are made manifest to the galaxy." It croons uncaringly, the forest of human limbs buckling together before spreading wider between two wide stone pillars forty feet in the air. The scissoring chatter of bolter fire had done little to dislodge it. And now the knot was tightening as the last firearms run dry.

The tide of Davinites give way to animalistic covens twisted and tainted in dark magics. The silverite blades and crude iron-shot bone axes hack at the Justarian's plate where they could. But even more hurl themselves at the solid wall of almost lambent sea-green, reflected in incandescent sheets of fire as bolters blaze unceasingly in the dark. But it was still dozens of meters away from the enclosed cluster of Justarian, and Horus wouldn't move as he glares murderously at the red-eyed spawn of chaos.

"Abaddon, give me your little bolter." Horus steadily asks, a wry grin forming on his face.

"I got rid of it when it ran dry." His First Captain intones, parrying an axe of a goat-headed abhuman even taller than himself. But a claw punches into its sternum and pulls down to open its chest cavity, putting an end to it in a heartbeat.

"Then give me a grenade!" his bark rises with his ire. But no response comes from his second in command or bodyguard, just the steady whompf of powerfists, snap of lightning discharge, and the whirring keen of a chainfist lost in the melee. "Why don't you have any!?"

"Here, Commander!" Marr shoulders his way in from the formation after neatly slicing a Davinite lay-priest in two with an overhead strike. Dropping back inside the obsidian ring, he fishes out a pair of krak grenades from his hip and reaches out with his right hand to offer them up to his primarch.

But Horus doesn't take them, not immediately. His eyes widen, face unreadable as the primarch's hand shoots out to grasp the captain's gauntlet. The captain hisses as it's forcefully turned over to the silver sigil carved into its surface.

Marr was about to shy back, but the vice grip on his wrist holds him fast. "You?" Horus croaks, eyes searching the blank red lenses and reading his warrior like a book. "Of all my legion, I may have thought Aximand or Maloghurst, but you?" There's no verbal response from Marr, just a stately pause as the captain stares back before the faintest bob of his head tells the Warmaster all he needed to know.

Horus smirks and pulls Marr closer, an arm around his shoulders like a father and son. Ceifador snaps and crackles with an ethereal energy as he points the blade up at the creature. "Listen closely, Tybalt. You see that bloated bitch? We're going to kill her. Just follow my-" A sudden flare of pain flashes from the Warmaster's shoulder wound made by the assassins blade. Horus stumbles, his weight suddenly slumping on Marr's shoulder and pulling him off-balance with a dangerous sway.

"Commander!" Marr's startled cry echoes in the dark as he strains against the weight. The bizarre ephemeral blade of the Warmaster's ripples like water for a moment and promptly disappears in a puff of dissipating black smoke.

Abaddon snarls, turning to glance back while grating his teeth. "Damn it Marr, stay out of the way!" He shoves his way through the Justarian and rubs past Torgaddon who looks back over his shoulder before plugging the hole left in the First Captain's wake.

Marr shakes his head, "He'll be fine, we just need to-"

"Shut up and get back in formation! You've caused enough problems, so don't you fight me on this, or I'll kill you for it!" He sheathes his sword and bats Marr's hand away from Horus, his own shoulder interceding and carrying the primarch's weight with a grunt of effort. "Kibre, Garviel, Tarik! We're leaving. We'll fight our way clear, but for oath's sake, see if you can raise Aximand on the vox to give us some breathing room!"

Horus's wet breaths pass in pain as he snarls. The scream in his head wasn't his own, but it's just as painful as a hand weakly reaches up to clasp the blackened wound high on his shoulder.


Luna's whimpered gasp is momentarily overwhelmed with a high pitched howl of magic. A bright magenta beam blazes past, snapping in front of Discord's nose, courtesy of an irate Alicorn shaking in anger. "Leave her alone!"

The Draconequus smiles and shrugs before reaching out to tap the tip of Twilight's horn. The youngest princess wrangles herself away with ease, still facing him with a widely spaced stance of aggression. But he does let Luna go. The midnight blue Alicorn wobbles and takes a few fumbling steps on unsteady limbs before Sunset and Starlight quickly wedge her between them. The latter carefully stays clear of the deadened wing that dips to the ground.

Discord merely keeps that same smile a he looks down at an angry Twilight standing in front of him, wings flared protectively. "Why, Princess Twilight, you know I would never knowingly hurt anypony without the absolute best of reasons. Especially someone as important, and frankly dangerous, as Luna. However, it is a means to an end and ooOOooh would you look at that. She knows it too, doesn't she?"

Sure enough, all eyes drift to Luna. The Alicorn clutches at the wound at the base of her wing with wide open eyes. It's not pain anymore, not all of it. There's a look surprise, and a slow panning gaze back over her shoulder. "It's here, it's just... it's."

Sunset looks back, wide eyed. Seeing nopony else glancing in the same direction, she reaches out to press a hoof to the back of Luna's head and turns it to look.

A spark of magic, a flash of the empath's eyes, her mouth opens.

A thousand images of violated worlds and burning skies flash past, as many of ancient green pastures and fluttering banners. Prostrate ponies, kneeling men, post-human legionnaires, all bow in submission before glittering demi-gods. It was the same. The moon rises, eclipsing the sun, casting all beneath it in a blood red hue. And then she remembered, she could see that awkward immature worry of a stolen kiss and the knotted warble unsure what to do. She felt shame, embarrassment, confusion, and the deep set anger of betrayal from a golden ray lancing from the heavens. A ray that lay upon the wasted abyssal plain beyond the mirror. The plain she stood upon at that moment.

Sunset's direction led the Princess to finally cast her eyes upon something hidden in plain sight. Where there had been a monolithic morass of shadows and spiraling clouds leading to the maze, was now a doorway.

Framed in an aurora of impenetrable black haze and flickering lightning, a solid green and white marble frame stands dozens of meters high. It's a towering free-standing colossus amid the bleak monochromatic landscape. Golden studs and waistbanding cross the massive edifice, showing intricately carved reliefs depicting two mirrored animals. Each is not quite the image of a wolf, but mix in something more fantastical than a lion, all framed in art deco rays of sunlight spreading to the distant door posts. In the middle is a massive ruby eye ringed in gold and set with a black pupil.

In the pit of her stomach, the Alicorn recognizes the eyes so alike her own when gripped by the Lurking Nightmare. And above it all, the crescent moon surmounts the entire frame as its keystone.

"Woah," Sunset's eyes widen. "That wasn't there before."

Discord chortles, "Sure it was. You got to the middle of your maze, even if 'They' would say you cheated by using Sunbutt two-point-oh."

"That's... hmm, kinda flattering and kinda insulting at the same time." Sunset nudges the mare suspended between Starlight and herself. "So, what now?"

"We must return to the mirror and find Horus." Luna tries to turn but just shifts a little, slumping heavily against Starlight.

"That doesn't sound like your greatest idea, princess." Starlight winces a bit, her coat is still ruined but at least some of her strength had returned.

Luna shoots her an irritated look of disapproval, but it's cut off immediately by a resolute Twilight Sparkle. The Princess of Friendship shakes her head and stamps a hoof, "You're in no condition to do anything. I'll go through, I'll find her-"

"Him." Sunset corrects, getting a look from Twilight that showed the momentary flush of her cheeks as if surprised she'd missed it. "It's a him."

Starlight shrugs a bit, "Stallions can do stuff too. Space stallions, at least."

"I-I meant her as in Luna, Luna's friend." Twilight's blush partially undermines her protests.

"Well," Discord wrinkles his nose, "Now I'm flattered and insulted."

"So, we're even?" Sunset looks up, actually smirking as she matches the slowly spreading grin on the Prince of Chaos's asymmetrical muzzle.

"Twilight, you pick your nemesis-turned-students pretty well. I'll give you that much. Why not make sure Princess Luna gets tucked in with some chamomile tea or whatever. She's going to have a lot of long nights ahead. After all, the past thousand years have been something of a tutorial level. Ta-ta princesses, say hello to Celestia for me."


"I take it that this is good enough?" Targost nods to the empty cell chambers in 4th block. The garrison bay was empty, newly renovated but untouched by any mark of the 16th legion. There are no Cthonic scrawl or glyphs, no Eye of Terra, no wolf heads or even moon motifs to mar the dull plasteel walls. There was twenty spaces, separate little legion cells all funneling in to the main squad commons room.

Lieutenant Ahlkar nods, the smile forming on his face as steady blue eyes take in everything at a glance. "Perfect, my compliments captain. It will be more than sufficient." and without hesitation, the Word Bearer officer tosses his helmet back and over to one of his cadre before unfastening the clasps to his cloak and offering that to his aid as well.

Serghar Targost lofts a brow, taken aback by the abruptness as another score of Word Bearers file in. Several open hip satchels and start to fumble for what looks like chalk bars and candles, leaving the Horusian captain even more confused.

"Ahlkar, what in the hells is this?"

The lieutenant looks up from the 7th company captain and smiles, "Protection." He starts unclasping his gauntlets and quickly starts to strip out of his. "You'll have to trust us, but we do have a plan. You shouldn't know all of it, keep it fresh and instinctive. I hope you understand."

"Understand what?" Targost snarls.

"Why," the Lieutenant's shark-like grin creases his lips, "Betrayal. Or, at least, what resembles it." Seeing Targost's eyes go wide, the lieutenant holds up an unarmored hand and gives him his best fraternal smile. "Easy, captain. Think of this as a show. We're all merely actors playing our part. Horus must hear the truth and accept it. This is merely a way that we can do so now that certain efforts have gone awry."

"Ahlkar," Targost's growls a slow and steady warning, "Tell me what you're doing or I'll-"

"Sic Luc Sedirae on us?" The lieutenant smiles, head cocking to the side as he carefully peels off his pauldrons, exposing the framework clamps beneath. "I know, and I also know he should be about ready to board the next Stormbird right about now. That other officer, twenty-fifth company-" Ahlkar snaps his fingers, as if trying to conjure the information from thin air.

It's one that Targost offers after a moment, "Lev Goshen."

"Right. Goshen." The lieutenant just shakes his head and then glances up, peeling off his rearbracers, arms now bare. "Well, not everyone can see the curtain call. Captain Targost, let me put your mind to rest. I am not here to kill anyone, I'm here to be an observer." he gestures to the other twenty who were swiftly clearing the room; one vox officer holds out an auspex scanner and sweeps the room for bugs and vox thieves. "They will do their job and it won't be pleasant. That said, we've been painted into a corner, you and me both, captain."

"You're speaking in riddles, get to the damned point." Targost's remaining hand twitches as he bites back another surge of pain from the disintegrated limb. "I don't have all day. Erebus said that you'd have a way to-"

"We're a clean up crew, I understand." Ahlkar smiles and as he unbuckles his cuirass, the lieutenant makes a clipped whistle, "Ulrahk." One of his legionnaires looks up after placing a candle on the floor near the rearmost cell entrance. At his approach, the lieutenant gestures to Targost. "Legionnaire Ulrahk, you will escort and then assist the captain in any way he requires."

The legionnaire slowly looks between them, and nods once. "I will obey." his voice rings steely and cold.

"What are you going to do?" Targost asks, "I want at least some details before I let you take one more step on this ship, lieutenant."

Ahlkar quickly strips out of his armor, neatly placing it aside before reaching for something else. He pulls a simple grey roll of cloth from a hip satchel and snaps it in the air. It unfurls to reveal a slightly stained 63rd expeditionary fleet mechanic's jump suit. Seeing Targost's slow realization, the astartes officer smirks in his friendly manner before offering a smiling shrug. "A few things: making differences, and getting some plans in order. Captain, what I believe you are not currently privy too, is the fact that we have been under attack."

"What? By who?" Serghar reaches for his bolt pistol with his good hand.

"A cabal of sorcerers staged an unsuccessful psychic attack against the Warmaster about twenty-two hours ago." And while Targost looks for signs of deception in the lieutenant's face, he could find no lie. Ahlkar continues as effortlessly as a briefing marshal as he peels off his greaves. "Others have been swayed, and both our legions sustained casualties. So, right now, we're setting up anti-psychic devices to stop any new attempts on the Warmaster's life and on his mind. The Lord Warmaster is in a precarious position, and while we are confident of our ability to keep him safe, the rest of the seventeenth legion forces are in peril due to a threat that originated inside your legion at the same time as the psychic attack. Captain Targost, can I speak this in confidence, as both a fellow brother in the warrior lodge and servant of the Warmaster?"

With Ahlkar's sincerity almost overwhelming, the lieutenant reaches for the warrior captain's shoulder to clasp a hand on the far larger figure's pauldron. Targost slowly nods once, but a whisper passes unbidden from his mouth, "I'll kill whoever's responsible for this."

Ahlkar smiles almost fondly, "The Warmaster is in danger, and all our efforts are being deployed to ensure his survival. But our operations hid a stumbling block when those sorcerers invoked a number of powerful allies that we were not initially appraised of. I can not give details, because I don't have them all, captain. I'm just a Vigilator, here to keep quiet and keep watch by dealing with our enemy."

Stripped from his armor swiftly and easily, the vigilator quickly zips up the fleet jump suit. He did look like any other stocky human, able to pass for a genecrafted rating; tall, but not too tall, broad, but not overly musclebound like many of the post-human astartes. And with a nod, even Targost could see the junior officer shine with an authority that belied his rank. With that same bright smile, he fits a small wire vox-bead in his ear and reaches for a belt with a series of mechanic's pouches.

"Our first threat is from the continued danger of further psychic attacks," Ahlkar explains, "We will need to secure the Vengeful Spirit and ensure that the Warmaster can not be affected here. So, our mission plans are simple: the fleet astropaths will expose the attack and call for immediate retribution and assistant from Terra. You will lead a strong security detail to the bridge spires to secure the area and protect it from subversion. At the same time, we will detach the Hand of Fate from the fleet and have it conduct secondary operations without suspicion. And as such... we will have to do something dramatic to divert attention from any dissidents. I can't tell you what will happen, but act upon your conscience, brother. Three: I will take possession of the body of your apothecary, the book, and one of your data slates, then return them to you when I can. You're part of the lodge, Captain Targost. We're brothers, not just cousins. So we won't endanger you. And don't worry, I will be responsible for your own personal issues. You'll hear from me soon enough, after all, I'll be the point of contact between our legions in the future."

"Why would we need that?" The assault captain growls, evidently not convinced or pleased at being left without the fine-details of the operation.

"Secrecy and security. We will need to appear distant, so our work for the Warmaster can remain beneath suspicion by our foes... some are, no doubt, in high places. Even within your own legion." seeing Targost's face screw up in indignation, the Word Bearer continues with an upraised hand, "unintentionally and ignorantly, but you know some of their names already."

"... Loken and Torgaddon... damn it." Targost growls, teeth audibly grinding as a new flare of pain issues from the ruined stump of meat where the phantom hand itched.

"Likely, among others. You'll seem them when they show up, and so will I. So, we'll both have to work to protect the integrity of Horus Lupercal and the Sons of Horus." The astartes killer nods and tugs his plain grey outfit into shape. He flips a peaked cap down on his brow then looks up at the post-human warrior still clad in black and green battle plate.

Targost looks on with a certain amount of amazement and disgust. The sixteenth legion's vigilators were often hulking, self reliant brutes who would kill from a distance or slip in and take an enemy apart at point blank range. This... felt more like the hallmarks of Alpha Legion duplicity. With a subtle shift and posture slump, the top of Ahlkar's head wouldn't reach any further than Targost's nose. For all the galaxy, he was just a somewhat tall and strong fleet maintenance crewmen, nothing more.

"On my oath, you can trust me, sir!" the lieutenant salutes like any proper navy rating.

Even to Targost, with legionnaires placing candles, chalk lines, and other ritual symbols, there was a strange departure between some lodge activities and the charming astartes next to him. A sensation ate at his core and simmers much like the equal tides of rage and pain.

Uncertainty.