The Third Legion had left the orbit of Carenn.
Julius Kaesoron had been worried, at first, that Fulgrim was merely pausing the devastation to take the Emperor's Children out of the storm he would unleash. These fears proved unfounded; the Emperor's Children were, indeed, retreating.
Kaesoron looked at Marius Gage. The Ultramarine Chapter Master was, like Kaesoron himself, seated in a throne within a council hall in Carenn's Spire Alpha. The world's Governor, Itacia Remasna, was at one of the table's short ends; the other was occupied by Alarone Jaranuos, her second. The middles of the long sides were the Space Marines' place; around them, the other members of the council summed up the results of the battle.
"The planetary economy," Oralexi Zentonna - the trade advisor - remarked, "will take a long time to recover, to vastly understate it. Carenn is ruined, Lady Ruler. Offworld trade with the rest of Ultramar should help, but…."
"It won't," Marius Gage stated with a swallow, and Kaesoron was startled at the Ultramarine's straightforward practicality.
Remasna turned to the Chapter Master.
"The Emperor's Children," Gage said, "are still at large. They are carving a path to Macragge, and it will be… difficult… to stop them before then. We need to act to concentrate trade in well-defended convoys… some reforms to protect our shipping. Ultramar is at war."
"Can't the Ultramarines handle this?" Konscalles, the police minister, asked.
"If the entire Legion was here," Gage said, "of course. With the troops I have at my disposal, not a chance, not until Calth or Macragge itself. I have issued a call for help, but there was disagreement in the Primarchs' ranks about whether we should fortify Ultramar, whether we should bother creating an Imperium Secundus." Gage swept his eyes over the table, looking for - weakness, Kaesoron suspected. "Only two Primarchs put their full weight behind Roboute Guilliman then, Corax and Leman Russ."
"Why not simply recall Guilliman? He would surely come if he knew," Kaesoron said.
Gage nodded. "But I have not been able to reach him, not with Carenn's Astropathic Choir. Warp Storms are raging across the galaxy. Corax is likewise incommunicado, and in fact, I have no idea where he is. Leman Russ, however, has heard of our plight, and the rumors of what the Third Legion has become have… offended him. Half the Space Wolves, under the command of their Primarch, are coming to the Eastern Fringe. But the journey is long, and for now, we are alone."
There was a pause in the conversation, and involuntarily, the humans' eyes crawled to the lone empty chair. Gaius' seat was filled by Kaesoron, and Gage had brought his own chair; but Ulriader Sezemes was gone, and no one had yet replaced him.
"How did he die?" Gage asked.
"The Emperor's Children," Konscalles said. "Do you need any more information?" The police minister's face suddenly fell into a growl. "The Emperor's Children, just like the one sitting right here among us!"
"I am not part of the Third Legion anymore!" Kaesoron exclaimed. He had specifically issued orders to recolor the renegade Companies' armor in the battle's aftermath, from violet to sky-blue. The heraldry, too, had been replaced - the phoenix with the Lion of Chemos that was his Company's historical symbol. It had been the only sensible choice, no matter how painful breaking with the past was.
"And repainting your bloody armor is - "
"Enough!" Gage and the Lady Ruler simultaneously shrieked. Remasna stopped at that, but the Regent of Ultramar did not. "The Companies Julius Kaesoron brought down are the only reason anything remains of Carenn, and of myself, at this moment! And yes, Kaesoron has repainted his and his forces' armor, therefore disavowing his allegiance to his Legion - to, for Ultramar's sake, his father! And if that's not enough to earn your gratitude, then I would ask you at least not violate this meeting's purpose with ad hominem attacks!" Gage turned to Kaesoron. "You're Legionless now, you know."
That was… actually predictable, given everything; but Gage's implied offer was not what Kaesoron had rebelled for. He had desired to prove there was still honor among the sons of Fulgrim, even if there wasn't any in their father. Besides, he didn't deserve this, whether he wanted it or not. "I'm not an Ultramarine," Kaesoron said, "though I thank you for the offer. The Lions will be some form of independent… Chapter."
"With you as Chapter Master, and Davars taking your place as Captain?"
"We'll decide organizational frameworks later." Kaesoron paused, listening for noise from outside the room. There were footsteps, but they were still distant. "We are not the Lions of Chemos anymore, either. Our homeworld is as good as dead now. We're simply the Stellar Lions. The Celestial Lions."
Konscalles' face was still twisted in fury, but at least it was now silent fury. Had it been worth sacrificing everything for this?
Yes. Yes because, no matter how pleasing blind faith could be, it ultimately led to destruction like that of Carenn and hatred like Konscalles'. Yes because, however he attempted to justify himself, the insults flung his way were well-deserved.
"We will discuss this in private later," Gage said after directing a hard stare Konscalles' way. "Though you do need to recruit from somewhere, Kaesoron."
Remasna nodded. "This discussion has gone on for too long already, and we're all hungry... at the least, I hope that explains certain remarks, albeit without excusing them. Meeting adjourned."
Julius Kaesoron got up from his massive chair and joined the flow of minister-advisors out the hall's door. Unlike most of them, though, he next walked not up to the cafeteria - which would in any case be insufficient for an Astarte appetite - but towards the outside of the spire, where the newly-named Celestial Lions made their headquarters.
He passed ranks of walls and doors. None of them had even a scratch - the tip of Spire Alpha had been protected well, better than any other place on Carenn. Even so, Kaesoron considered, as he walked through it, what sort of embellishments and defenses he would add. There was a lot to be hypothetically done: Erikon Gaius had evidently assumed that no invader would make it into the spire itself. The assumption had proven true in the preceding battle, but only barely.
It was a utilitarian location when compared to the Pride of the Emperor, but still beautiful. Flowing gargoyles looked down from the walls, above circular doors in an installation that, for a moment, caught Julius Kaesoron in the grip of vertigo and a bad memory.
Then it was gone, and the Captain kept walking, emerging from a low door he had to duck through onto the helicopter pad - used, in this case, for objects rather bigger than helicopters. A large gunship, based on the combination of two Thunderhawk chassis, sat in the center of the pad.
Around the glistening circle, equally metallic pipes rose up, ringing the pad in a crescent shape; towards the outside of Spire Alpha, they grew shorter and rarer, until at last they became a silver fence against the clearly visible cliff into the Hive's depths.
A few other gunships were docked here, and others elsewhere; they contained fewer Marines than had left the Pride of the Emperor. A total of six thousand, one hundred, and fifty-seven Astartes had defected from the Legion, mostly - but not exclusively - from the six Companies that had received Order Omega; of those, four thousand, eight hundred, and ninety-two still drew breath. Casualties among the Ultramarines were greater, in part because the Emperor's Children were still wary of killing their co-Legionnaires; but even among the Lions, Captains Onurry and Tarvitz were dead, and Astarune and Korander had sustained life-threatening wounds.
These were the numbers; and now, in the freezing wind, doubt and regret all-consuming, Julius Kaesoron held his hand against the wall and knelt. He watched as Ispequr Davars came out of the double Thunderhawk, emotions warily churning.
"Brother-Captain?"
"Why?" Kaesoron asked. "Why must this be so difficult?"
Davars walked up to Kaesoron's form. "Abandoning everything is meant to be difficult."
"No," Kaesoron answered. "It should be, but - but why me, Davars? I don't deserve this. I don't deserve to look these councillors in the eye - I would have killed them, on Slodi's Moon. And I did. I killed them all."
"We all committed atrocities in the service of Fulgrim. None of us are whole."
"And yet it is the pretense of wholeness that gives us the strength to go on." Still slightly shaking, Kaesoron rose. "Perfection cries in dismay among the hordes trod underfoot. None of us are perfect; not even the Primarchs. I - "
"You're complaining about being a leader? Now?"
Kaesoron opened his mouth, then paused as he considered the process his helmet automatically performed of transforming it into electronic sound. "Not precisely. None of this is so clear, Davars. Not really. It may never have been, even during the Crusade."
"But - "
"But for it to be clear, we would need to be perfect, and we can never be. We must aim to cleanse our scars, to erase our weakness… in the service of humanity. In the service of individual imperfection, combined into an arm reaching towards perfection. For perfection, Davars, the ideal we still serve, no matter how much the Legion has turned away from it. Even though we can never understand what it is, only what it is not. Even though perfection cannot cry."
It felt poetic, this moment at the edge of comprehension, on a glittering drum atop a world-tower. Kaesoron recorded it on his retina for further contemplation, but it was not enough.
So, as his second looked on in amazement, Julius Kaesoron took off his helmet.
