Marius Gage, First Chapter Master of the Ultramarines, sat in the throne room of the Macragge's Honour, surrounded by stars.

"Well met," Captain Lorchas said to his commander. "What is the practical now, Regent?"

"I do not know," Gage replied. It was the truth, though not a grim one.

The Outer Sphere and New Draconic Federation had both been annexed into the Realm of Ultramar peacefully, as was the Karessthan Empire. The Conitian Empire and the Eternity Conclave had been conquered by the Tetrarchs. The first incursions of the Imperium into Ultramar had been extinguished. The Realm now consisted of over seven hundred planets.

"I suppose I will return to Macragge," Gage said. "You… I suppose we will need more Companies on patrol now. The Emperor knows that Ultramar is strong."

"Further expansion?"

"Negative: we have no need to overly stretch ourselves."

Lorchas nodded. "You know, you don't sound like the Regent of Ultramar."

"Well, I am merely warming the seat for the Primarch."

"The Primarch might never return."

"And Ultramar may fall before he does. Do not congratulate me without need, Captain."

Lorchas accepted the semi-rebuke. "Permission to leave?"

"Of course," Gage said. "You may desire to reorganize your Company in the meantime. The Ninth was divided, and I fear it may not be ready to fight as one immediately."

Lorchas left, and Gage was left alone, wondering how everything had changed so suddenly. It mattered little now. Getting up was not easy - he recognized in self-hatred that he was, despite everything, still too proud of having that throne - and Marius Gage followed it with a visit to the observation deck.

The hallways passed quickly, and soon Gage was again surrounded by his warriors as he coldly scanned the heavens. There was nothing there, nothing but the white light of burning hydrogen and the black void of interstellar aerodust.

A violet line cut into the celestial sphere. Gage's eyes were immediately bound to the rift, glaring into its depths. There seemed to be something swimming below the surface, something - no.

No!

A massive violet prow erupted out of the Warp rift, emerging into realspace at the jump point. An eagle, a fiery eagle, was mounted on it. The stars behind were blocked out.

"The Emperor's Children," Ximeoden noted.

"Engage cloaking!" Gage screamed into the vox-net. "Begin evasive maneuvers. I know this vessel."

It was not a mere frigate, or even Battle-Barge, that now emerged from the dark depths of the Immaterium. It was the Pride of the Emperor.

It was Fulgrim's flagship. And unlike the Macragge's Honour, it would be accompanied by a full fleet, more than a Company of Astartes. Indeed, as the generators turned on, the Macragge's Honour dove out from behind a large asteroid, revealing the III Legion's full fleet in lilac daggers. Eighty thousand Space Marines would soon descend on the peaceful Ultramarian worlds of the Serpentile system.

Gage and his bodyguards ran for the bridge.

"We cannot defeat them," Lorchas observed, meeting the First Chapter Master halfway to the pinnacle. "Serpentile is undefended."

"I know."

"We need to abandon Serpentile."

"Abandon two worlds of Ultramar without a fight? To these bastards?"

"Better than to fight and die. We must escape, Chapter Master… Regent. You know that."

Escape. It was a dark word, a filthy word when applied to this war. Yet it was necessary, Gage knew. There was no way they would survive this conflict if it broke out. If it had been only the Pride….

"Monitor their vox-transmissions," Gage said as he emerged onto the bridge. "Find out where they will go next. We will make our stand yet, on a better-fortified world. Head for the jump point."

And, with the decision made, the flagship of the Ultramarines hurtled into a storm of violet.

The Macragge's Honour flew along a geodesic, aimed at the enemy's heart. Gage knew the cloak would give way eventually; the Emperor's Children knew they were here, and soon enough the monsters would begin searching for them. For now, it was most efficient simply to fly towards the jump; the time for evasive maneuvers would yet come.

The Third Legion's fleet suddenly exploded, expanding like a flower to comb through a maximal region of space. Some tendrils turned towards the Agri-world of Serpentile VI, but most continued on a straight course.

"We will need to muster Ultramar," Gage noted. "An entire traitor Legion is… each of you knows."

Not much needed to be said.

The Macragge's Honour continued to fly, veering slightly from its course towards the far side of Fulgrim's formation. A brief contact would only be beneficial; Gage wanted to take apart a few Imperial ships, as advance vengeance for the sack of Serpentile. Nevertheless, as the enemy drew closer, the Ultramarine ship approached a course of avoidance.

Despite this, the bridge lights began to flicker. "They're about to notice us," Ximeoden commented.

"So?" Taplon responded. "We're too far along for them to stop us. We'll make it."

"Don't be so sure," Ninth Company Sergeant Sazaot recommended. Gage silently agreed: the Imperials' behavior had not matched theoreticals.

What's taking them so long?

Then, the flanks of one of the III Legion's cruisers lit up, and the first volley headed towards the Macragge's Honour.

"All power to shields!"

"Evasive maneuvers!"

"Just a bit more…"

The first volley went wide, flying into the Honour's location from a moment ago. The second one, however, exploded just as that became clear to Gage; and if the ship dodged that one, then the other ships - already warming up - would still put the Ninth Company of the Ultramarines' survival at risk.

"Lord Regent! Lord Regent!" A young Astropath ran up, holding a slip of paper. "We've cracked the enemy vox codes. The Emperor's Children are heading for Carenn next."

"Then tell the Navigators to prepare for an emergency jump to the Carenn system. And get a message sent to - Erikon Gaius, is it? Tell him to prepare for a Legion assaulting his fortifications."

Carenn. That was good - Gaius had been fortifying the Hive World for weeks, and the system already boasted significant defenses before then. On Carenn, the Ultramarines could hold out.

Even, perhaps, two Companies against a Legion.

The Macragge's Honour shook, tossing Gaius from his seat; a series of explosions were clearly heard outside the flagship. They were the ineffective struggles of the missiles against the Primarch-sized shields of the Honour.

The III Legion's fighters - ridiculously decorated; who had the time to plaster abstract paintings on the outside of the ships? - swarmed in.

"Approaching the jump point," Ximeoden hopefully stated, just as the first of the fighters rammed into the flagship.

The flagship shook severely; lights flickered across the bridge, red tides sweeping across within milliseconds. The shields were about to fail, and when the second fighter collided - courtesy of the Honour dodging a third - they collapsed.

The jump point was twinkling, promising salvation in the distance. Gage weighed attempting an emergency transit right now, but decided against it. The Macragge's Honour could hold; it was far more risky to transfer into the Warp at an unmarked point in the middle of a firefight. They could have jumped before encountering the Emperor's Children, if that had been the calculation, but any such attempt was fraught with danger.

Not that evading this ammunition lacked danger. The Thirteenth Legion's flagship was straining at her welds, dodging in ways she had never been meant to, firing back into the swarm; outside, the firestorm raged. Every ship in Gage's escort had been eliminated now, or else had jumped immediately. Running the gauntlet was only plausible for a capital ship here.

In the distance, behind the rivers of fury, Serpentile VI wept; Fulgrim's killers were surrounding it. Marius Gage, Regent of Ultramar, did not think any more on the topic. Now was not the time.

The Macragge's Honour flew on, even as explosions bloomed on its lower decks. The flagship shook, tossing Gage from his seat once more. Sirens blared. All was mayhem.

But this was an Ultramarine ship, even now. That meant something, even in a time when nothing else really mattered. Gage committed the engineering to emergency injections. Just a bit more…

"No boarding torpedoes yet, Regent," Lorchas reported.

"Send my congratulations to the pilots."

"No - no boarding torpedoes have been fired."

"Theoretical: the Emperor's Children are aware we have the advantage in troops. This is a big ship, and we could defeat an incursion. They don't want to give their lives."

"Fighters have gone in."

"Fighters are capable of evading. Practical: if they aren't sending in torpedoes, impacts on the non-essential portions of the ship are acceptable."

There was no time to dodge, not anymore. The damaged ship was sluggish. But still the Macragge's Honour flew, more on inertia than on any propellant. The engines were damaged, but still strained forwards. And, as the last of the explosions erupted on the ship's stern, chunks of plasteel floating into the endless void, a sharp turn revealed a massive, thick line in the darkness of space.

"The jump point."

"Engage Warp drives!"

"Prepare Gellar fields!"

The last of the fragments floated off; but fortunately, the Gellar field generators had remained effectively undamaged. And then the front of the Macragge's Honour peeled back reality, and with a shudder, the Ultramarine flagship began to sail into the twilight realm of the Warp.

A final explosion, and then all was quiet. But they were far from safe.

The windows on the bridge swerved shut, even as the sensors began reporting nonsensical data. Outside, Gage caught glimpses of things moving; the Warp was disturbed now, roiling in spiraling darkness.

"Are the Gellar field generators even intact?"

"Yes, of course!"

"How's the stability?"

"Why are the engines oscillating?"

"Deck 3C has gone red!"

"Was Navigator Osteone even ready?"

"Are they pursuing? They could turn around and do that."

The bridge was lit with chatter as reports from the vast vessel poured onto the bridge, inundating Marius Gage in directionless data. Only one question mattered; the Macragge's Honour was damaged, but she would hold, if she was left alone.

"Are they pursuing?" Taplon asked.

Gage shrugged. "Contact Osteone and find out. I want to know the answer as well." A small pursuit fleet could be defeated, but if Fulgrim turned a large part of his forces away from Serpentile, the Macragge's Honour was doomed.

Gage would face the death honorably, of course. And they would at least split the III Legion's forces. But in the end, he preferred to live. Live to fight again.

He did, however, contemplate the possibility of a Gellar field failure. That would be a horrible fate, Warp spawn crawling through the corridors of the ship, Space Marines being torn apart by violations of physics, and eventually flesh itself giving way before the annihilating tide. Making a controlled entry into the Warp had decreased that risk, but not eliminated it entirely.

"Battle report," Lorchas stated. "Have a look at it, Regent - we lost as many ships as we killed."

Gage took the data-slate into his hands, staring into the letters. The engagement had not been a victory by any means, but if the Macragge's Honour at least limped away, it would not have been a disaster.

It was bloody, but this was to be expected when fighting Astartes. Really, defeating the Iron Hands so easily had been a stroke of luck.

Taplon was off, and Ximeoden was eerily silent. The rest of Gage's guard was dead from some of the worst fighting the veteran had ever seen. The reason for those battles' savagery was blatantly clear: Astartes against Astartes, the impossibility made reality. If it came down to an attrition war, at least, the Ultramarines had a lot of warriors. And with the Mechanicum firmly on the rebels' side, they could produce new Space Marines faster as well.

But such a war, a long war, spanning decades or even centuries, would devastate the galaxy. It would go against everything Marius Gage had ever hoped for.

"Regent?" Taplon had come back. "We are not being followed. None of the Third Legion's ships have jumped into the Warp."

Gage nodded, satisfied. "Then keep the course for Carenn. For Ultramar, brothers. We will save it yet."