The Thunder Hawk shuddered, the sound inside the troop hold a roar of engines. The grav harness that held Brother Virgil steady clattered against the wing bossed front plate of his cuirass. He stared through the dark blue visor plates of his helmet, not entirely focused upon the world before him. His mind was turned inwards, the glow of his tactical HUD setting a green flare up his pale face. He couldn't tear his thoughts from the savagery his brothers had committed. He had known that the Death Company were little more than mindless beasts, so locked in their own torment that not even the other Knights could approach them. They had to be deployed separately upon the battlefield to prevent in-Chapter casualties.

Virgil was fresh from the Chapters rigorous training regime. Having completed his decade of Squire training he had been released from Brother Sergeant Tiberius to make the journey back to Athena. From there he remembered the silent and terror gripping journey to the mysterious Chapter Bastion upon Armacia, the dead planet closest to the home systems star. It was his first time inside the immense goliath of a ship that the Astartes had converted into a fortress, buried in the crust of the planet. His Scout training and the introduction of the various chemical enhancements and gene organs had been carried out aboard the Dominator. The Black Carapace, required for his interaction with the hallowed Power Armour was inserted beneath his skin within the Mechanicum vaults inside the Armacian ship-bastion.

He remembered those dark hallways and shiver inducing techno mages, their cold, clinical touch and the cloying smog of incense in the air. This was his first campaign. His first chance to wield his sword in combat alongside the Chapter. He just hadn't predicted the Astartes he revered would be so blood hungry. To look at them now, he would never have imagined they were howling, ravenous beasts merely hours before. He focused his eyes through his helmet to fix upon the brother directly opposite him. The man had both blood covered gauntlets clasped before him as if in prayer. He held a small icon upon a chain, hidden between his palms and from the movements of his head he was muttering to himself within the confines of his helm.

Virgil could feel a twist in his stomach. It had been there ever since the combat had begun. His throat had dried up and his hands had begun to shake. He had dismissed the weakness, putting it down to seeing such a grim business conducted by those he'd been convinced to venerate. He shook his head slowly as he watched the brother praying. What could he be praying for? Virgil was suddenly disgusted with himself and his Chapter. They deserved to be damned.

++ Brother Argon does not pray. ++

The voice cut into his helmet, the voice warped by the vox static. Virgil saw the bead had come from his unit sergeant, Kastus. He turned his head to see Kastus sat two men down from Argon.

++ He centres himself, Virgil. It is something we all must do. You shall too one day, when you feel the call. ++

Virgil, who did not wear a chain mail tabard turned his black torso towards his sergeant, the red trim chipped and exposing the metallic sheen of the ceramite beneath. Virgil was entitled to his tabard upon the return to the Dominator, now that he had been baptised in the fires of war.

++ What call? ++

Virgil snapped, his teeth feeling too large for his mouth in that moment. He felt hot and cloyed inside his helmet and lifted his hands to disengage the locks keeping it in place. He wrenched the armour from his head, revealing a boyishly handsome face, high cheekbones accenting piercing red eyes. A short crop of blonde hair was smoothed back over his head with oils and wax.

++ I shall ignore your humours this one time Virgil as you are on a learning curve. ++

Kastus lifted his own blood stained gauntlets and removed his helm, revealing a face much the same as Virgil's, yet a ragged puckered scar distorted his upper lip and left cheek. It gave the sergeant the appearance of a constant sneer and revealed pink gum and a long silver plated fang.

"The call of our Chapters legacy Virgil, surely you remember the fate of blessed Sanguinius. "

Virgil bowed his head slightly, taking his eyes from his sergeant, who continued to bore his eyes into the top of Virgil's blonde hair. Virgil nodded, his bitterness subsiding as he thoughts came unbidden to his mind's eye. The epic confrontation of their beloved father against his traitor brother and the death echo that each of them felt. Some of the Templari claimed the Knights Vermillion felt the thirst for vengeance even worse than their father Chapter, the Blood Angels. Not from some sense of pious justice, but from the degraded state of their genetic strain.

"Each of us can control the blessing inside us, but each of us have different levels of control, Virgil."

He pointed towards Argon and then two men down to Brother Kadon, who gripped his grav harness as if it was a life line, his helmet covered head pushed back and titled upwards so he was staring at the metal roofing above his head.

" Argon remembers his sword mantra's from his days upon Athena, it helps to bring his rage back to balance. Kadon shuts his connection to his armour out from his immediate control, allowing his body to wear itself out. Each of us deal with our legacy in our own private way. You will too, when you feel the call of our blood. "

Virgil turned from regarding brother Kadon and fixed his light red eyes into the sergeants deep crimson ones. His features had lost the sharpness from before and he offered his palms flat side up to his sergeant.

"I apologise for my lack of restraint m'lord. I was never appraised of how badly it affects our brothers, I had heard rumours but I am struggling to accept what is in store for myself."

Kastus nodded sagely and waved off Virgils expression of repentance. He cast his eyes down the assembled brothers inside the troop hold, all ten of his Knights had come from the Lexmar incident unscathed. He offered a silent thanks to the Emperor for such a blessing. Then he looked back to Virgil, studying the young Marines face. He felt the slightest tug of a smile begin to pull his lips as he remembered back to his first campaign, six decades back against the Ork. He regarded Virgil thoughtfully before speaking again.

"You shall report to the reclusiarchum for four hours of supplication to the shrine of Sanguinius and our Great Father. I shall meet you there after your allotted genuflection time and we shall discuss more on this matter."

Virgil bowed his head once more, a lock of his oiled hair coming free to swing down his features. He thanked his sergeant and settled back into his grav harness, holding his armoured fingers upon his thighs. His mind turned inwards once more to thoughts of himself tearing and rending flesh in a way such as his brothers and he frowned.

"Virgil."

The voice of Kastus came again and Virgil turned his head, expecting the lecture to continue.

"Congratulations on earning your tabard. "

Virgil couldn't help the smile that came unbidden to his lips, revealing his pearl white fangs. The punishment within the Templari sanctum seemed less bothersome after the sergeants praise. He lifted his head as the loud hailer within the compartment announced their approach to the Dominators docking bay.

The fleet of black and red Thunder Hawks glided into the open bays along the huge space bound fortress. The might of the First, Second and Tenth company returning from their liberation of the Lexmar system.