My apologies, but this is a pretty short chapter. I know some people have complained to me about my chapters being short and while I could blame the fact that I'm writing a thesis at the same time I'm writing this fanfic; the truth is I don't like to drag on a chapter once I feel it's story has been told just to make it longer. My humblest apologies, but I hope you enjoy this.

Brothers II

"My lord…what you ask is just…" stammered tech-priest Oric Halcum. While his face had little vestiges of humanity left on it; his eyes replaced by bionic eyes that gleamed blue and his mouth covered with a vox-grill, the stammering was more than enough indication of his distress despite the monotonous tone.

Thorondor towered over the tech-priest, smiling. He patted the stammering Martian on the shoulder. "I have the utmost confidence in you, Master Halcum."

"But there are logistical problems!" protested the tech-priest. "Living space, food and maintenance! And your request for any technologies we can use to enhance them...with all due respect my lord, it's preposterous. We already have Stormbirds and Thunderhawks available so..."

"The Storm Eagles will be an integral part of the elite company I have in mind," said Thorondor. "We will need a sizable roost aboard of our ships to house them and any technology you have to increase their deadliness and effectiveness in battle will be most splendid."

"But...the numbers you've given me..." blurted Oric; if he still had his organic eyes, he would have been crying. "We'd need an entire ship to house the Eagles!"

"Then that is what we will do," answered Thorondor, his smile widening. "See? You've already solved the housing problem. Now I am certain you can handle the rest; I leave it in your most capable hands, Master Halcum."

Cutting off any further protest by the tech priest with a charming but forceful smile, Thorondor ushered him out.

Shutting the door on the Martian, Thorondor looked around his empty chambers. He had never quite bothered to organise it and as a result, there were scattered documents and reports strewn all over his desk and the tables and even a few on the floor.

Alone, Thorondor allowed himself to mentally review what he had learned of the Imperium.

He had already learned that the once-mythical Terra is the heart of the Imperium; housing the continental-sized (such a scale was still beyond Thorondor's ability to grasp) monument known as the Imperial Palace. He had learned of the Astronomican, the beacon that guided the Imperial ships through the alternate dimension known as only the Warp. He had learned of Luna, once known as simply the Moon, one of the earliest celestial bodies that Mankind had first settled and also of Mars, home to the Mechanicum.

The tech priests of the Mechanicum were an interesting bunch, mused Thorondor. Outwardly they hardly resembled humans, but whenever they came across some previously unknown piece of technology (which was very rare on Tempestas); they acted like excited children discovering a delightful treat.

The technology they possessed was astounding. Already they had provided solutions to various problems on Tempestas that Thorondor had been able to formulate, but been unable to enact due to the lack of technology available.

Thorondor's smile faded a little as he also ran a mental check on the military technology of the Imperium. He had learned of weapons capable of killing thousands in mere seconds, weapons capable razing continents and boiling oceans and indeed, capable of shattering worlds.

It unnerved him a little.

And then there was the Emperor; the man who Asghar had described as the Master of Mankind and Thorondor's father.

When Thorondor had learned that the Emperor's goal was to unify the entire galaxy under his rule, Thorondor had asked one simple question.

How big was the galaxy?

The answer had nearly wiped the near-permanent smile from his face.

There were thousands, tens of thousands, perhaps even hundreds of thousands; some as big, some smaller, some many times the size of Tempestas and the Emperor sought to conquer all of them for the sake of Mankind.

It had taken twenty years for Thorondor to unify Tempestas. How long would it take to unify a galaxy?

But of the Emperor himself, while it was easy enough for Thorondor to find information about his deeds, there was very little about the man himself. The Emperor, despite his lofty position as the ruler of the Imperium, was shrouded in mystery.

The door to his chambers opened, jarring Thorondor from his thoughts as he turned to see his fellow Primarch striding through.

Leman Russ, the Wolf King, Primarch of the Sixth Legion Astartes known as the Vlka Fenryka, was someone who in terms of personality was very different from Thorondor. Russ was brash, aggressive, and belligerent and his constant posturing at times grated on the Storm Lord's nerves. Despite that, following their duel on Left Peak, Russ had borne no ill-will from the fight and Thorondor had found himself warming to the Wolf King. Russ was honest, open and coarse, quick to bare his teeth in a threatening snarl and just as quick to throw back his head and roar with laughter.

For the first time in Thorondor's life, he had found someone who was not awed by him. He had found someone who did not see him in a lofty light, or as a marvel of nature.

Russ had simply seen him as a fellow Primarch.

A brother.

Russ grinned at Thorondor. "I saw Oric passing by just a few minutes ago. He looked unhappy; what outrageous request did you make of him this time?"

"I only asked that he find ways to adapt our Storm Eagles into the Imperium's way of war," answered Thorondor, smiling. "How is that unreasonable?"

"You'd bring your overgrown birds to do battle in Uppland?" asked Russ with a growling chuckle.

Thorondor didn't understand the word, but he assumed it meant the place where the stars dwelt. "Just as you bring your...what do you call them? Wolves? This is the same thing."

Russ shrugged. "But our wolves don't take up so much damned space and give us logistical nightmares."

The two Primarchs chuckled for a moment at that before Russ became serious.

"If you are already planning that far ahead, have you accepted what we told you?" asked the Wolf King.

"Only some," answered Thorondor. "I won't commit completely until I meet the Emperor."

Russ chuckled again. "Oh, you will; commit I mean"

"You seem very confident of that."

"Why shouldn't I be?" asked Russ, shrugging. "It is our wyrd; to lead our father's armies across the stars and conquer them for Mankind. A worthy quest; one that the skjalds will tell stories about by the fire for centuries to come."

Thorondor's smiled widened. Russ often used words that Thorondor didn't understand. From what he had learned; Russ's homeworld of Fenris was a land that was even harsher than Tempestas. Its people were scattered into different tribes across the globe and eked a living through the seasonal continental changes with their own customs and language. Thorondor supposed Russ couldn't help slipping back into Fenrisian every now and then. Another thing that the Storm Lord had noted was despite the secular nature of the Imperial Truth championed by the Imperium, Russ and the Wolves of Fenris themselves seemed to belief in a sort of higher power.

The Fenrisians seemed to be deeply spiritual people in their own way.

"So why have you came to see me, Russ?" asked Thorondor. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"I came to say farewell brother," answered Russ. "The Crusade calls, and my Wolves and I grow restless."

"You're leaving?" asked Thorondor, genuinely dismayed.

If Russ saw it, he made no remark on it. "Aye, Asghar and the Army detachment attached to the Second will remain here…they are your Legion after all."

"But what about the Emperor?" asked Thorondor. "Won't you stay to greet him as well?"

Russ gave Thorondor a smile that was almost regretful. "As much as I would like to see the Allfather again, I can't. There are worlds to conquer and it is the duty of the Rout to see it done."

Though it had only been barely a month since they had first met, Thorondor had found it easy to connect with the Wolf King. A bond had formed between them, as naturally as breathing between the two Primarchs because their strong warrior nature. Thorondor was genuinely saddened to see Leman Russ leave.

Sensing it, Russ clapped Thorondor on the shoulder. "We'll see each other again soon, brother. Someone needs to show you how real warriors fight."

Thorondor's smile widened as he shook his head. "I didn't know that running one's mouth is a trait of a real warrior. But if it was, then you and your Wolves are definitely the finest warriors in the Imperium."

Russ laughed.

II II II

Leman Russ and the Wolves accompanying him departed Tempestas, leaving behind the Second Legion Astartes and the 85th Expedition to handle preparations for Thorondor and the Emperor's impending visit.

The two Primarchs had faced each other amidst a crowd of onlookers; to Russ's amusement, Commander Brand had been among them. The commander stood straight with his chin up in an air of defiance. He was still smarting from embarrassment at the way he had been treated by the Astartes when they arrived.

Thorondor and Russ clapped each other on the shoulder.

"I will see you soon, brother," said Russ.

Thorondor nodded and Russ turned away to board his ship that was called a Stormbird. As the Primarch of the Sixth Legion left, Thorondor felt melancholic; the departure of the only being truly his equal on Tempestas had him feeling lonely.

As the Stormbird rose to the sky, gradually vanishing into the Eternal Storm, Thorondor found himself wishing the Emperor would arrive soon so that he could learn more of himself and the other Primarchs.

His brothers.

It was strange, before he could only call Gwaine his brother. Now he knew he had two others and another seventeen yet to be found.

Thorondor's smile widened as he raised his hand in a gesture of farewell, despite knowing his brother wouldn't see it.