Chapter 5.6 To The Ashes Return

Abaddon stormed on to the bridge of the Red Tear. Ever since the destruction of the Vengeful Spirit some time before the First Captain had been in a black mood. His confidant Miss Oliton was missing, presumed dead aboard the command ship. The Mournival had been wiped out, leaving him as the only remaining Son of Horus that bore a symbol of the proud tradition. Askaellon, his ally in this venture had expressed no sympathy for the Sixteenth Legion's loss. He continued to consolidate his power within the Sons of Sanguinius and ignored the Sons of Horus except when he required something.

Much like now. Askaellon reclined in the Red Tear's command chair, smiling as Abaddon approached.

"Ah. First Captain. Thank you for coming."

"Stow it, Askaellon," growled Abaddon, "I may have handed you the Ninth but I am NOT your subordinate. The loss of the Vengeful Spirit does NOT put you in command, despite your control of the Red Tear. Forget that, and I'll rip your head off myself and seize this ship for the Sixteenth."

"Well, we are in a bad mood this morning, aren't we?" replied Askaellon with a smirk, "Fortunately for you we have something to distract both our Legions. Take a listen."

Askaellon pressed a key on the command chair and a voice came booming across the bridge from the vox emitters.

"Attention elements of the Sixteenth! This is the Primarch Fulgrim of the Third Legion! Your treason against the Warmaster and the Emperor ends today! Surrender peacefully, and I promise you all swift deaths. Defy me, and I shall ensure every last one of your is purged with extreme prejudice! To elements of the Ninth that might still remain loyal, take heart. The sons of the Third have come to liberate you. If you are out there, Warmaster, Sanguinius, I am coming to your aid. I repeat! Attention elements-"

Askaellon flipped the transmission off.

"It repeats every few minutes. I assume. It might be the Primarch of the Emperor's Children just loves his own voice and has been standing at a transmitter for the past few hours."

"I wouldn't put it past him," grumbled Abaddon with a slight smile on his face, the humour lifting his mood a little, "But he said elements of the Sixteenth…"

"Yes… this is hilarious," laughed Askaellon, "Some how I think they assume it was a treason by the Sons of Horus alone. If we wanted we could hand you all over Fulgrim and he'd be none the wiser!"

Abaddon eyed Askaellon with suspicion, but Askaellon just responded with a coy arch of the eyebrow.

"Don't be silly, Ezekyle. I'm not going to sell out the Sixteenth. We both know the Warmaster needs both our Legions for his plans, whatever they might be. It does allow us an opportunity though."

"You command several of the Ninth's ships to go dark and lure the Third into a trap to surround them?" guessed Abaddon.

"Quite so," nodded Askaellon, "We could even have you make a transmission from the Red Tear, convince them that the Sixteenth is in control. We outnumber them. If we manage to lure them in and encircle them we could repeat what transpired during our purge."

"Sounds like a plan," agreed Abaddon, "I'll send the commands to my ships from here. Make your commands to your forces through point to point transmission so the Third don't detect them."

"Already done," replied Askaellon, "It's a shame we can't keep the Third on our side, but destroying them here gives us one less enemy to face later."

Aboard The Pride of the Emperor, Fulgrim watched the icons of the Ninth and Sixteenth ships move around to a defensive formation. The spear tip of the Emperor's Children formation glowed with the symbol of the Gloriana class ship at its point as it slowly closed the distance between them.

"They're baiting us," mused Fulgrim, indicating to First Captain Kaesoron, "Do you see it?"

"Indeed my Lord," agreed Kaesoron, "Though its hard to tell which are the trap."

"Here," pointed Fulgrim, indicating a group of drifting hulks, "These are alive. The formation is moving away from them as if they are dead, but if we charge the front line they would end up in the perfect position to encircle us."

Sejanus, Vitus and Tarik looked on, impressed. The area was a graveyard of dead ships, any one of them a possible deception. But the Primarch instinctively knew the best placed to lay a trap if he were the enemy commander. Fulgrim's talents may have struggled in recent conflicts, but the Primarch was still one of the finest Legion commanders in the Imperium. His reputation for perfection was well earned, despite recent events.

"How do you want to handle this, my Lord?" asked Kaesoron.

"Bring the Proudheart and the Wage of Sin over here to the flank," indicated Fulgrim, "Also inform the escorts in that sector to prepare for a hard burn and to deploy torpedoes at close range against the 'dead' targets as ordered. We will let them think we've taken the bait, but the firepower of that force should be sufficient to neutralize the trap before they can spring it. Then we can come around THEIR flank and we will encircle them on the left. They will probably be confused enough to break into a rout. We will then continue to lead the spear tip to the Red Tear and seize control, hopefully liberating my brother in the process."

"Thank you, my Lord," murmured Vitus, staring at the magnificence of Fulgrim's plan.

"No thanks necessary, Captain," replied Fulgrim, "This is the work of the Emperor."

Fulgrim tapped a few keys before him and began to speak again.

"Infirmary, this is Fulgrim. Are you there, Fabius?"

"Awaiting your order, sire," croaked the voice of the First Apothecary of the Emperor's Children.

"Have all trauma teams on standby," ordered Fulgrim, "Prepare your field kit as well. If the Warmaster is injured we will need to get him to the infirmary as quickly as possible. You've read the reports I instructed on the death of Horus, correct?"

"I have, my Lord," replied Fabius, "If the Warmaster is injured I have a number of procedures ready that may at the very least stabilize him, if not outright restore him to health, unless it is another weapon beyond our understanding."

Fulgrim smiled broadly.

"Great work, Fabius. Your administrations are beyond reproach, and that is exactly what we need right now."

"My Lord flatters me, but it is not necessary," rasped Fabius, "To aid a Primarch in distress is the duty of all who take up the noble profession of the healer. If it becomes necessary, I shall not be found wanting."

"Excellent. That is all Fabius. I will contact you when we are preparing to board."

"At your command, My Lord."

The vox clicked off and Fulgrim watched as the Proudheart and Wage of Sin slowly drifted across the formation to their new positions. Sejanus and Tarik glanced at each other as inch by inch, mile by mile the forces of the Third closed with their targets.

"CONTACT!" called the sensor officer, "Ships arriving starboard at high warp! Incoming identification beacons. It's the Fifth Legion, my Lord!"

Fulgrim nodded solemnly as a host of new icons appeared close to the Third Legion's position. The White Scars.

"Looks like Jaghatai managed to pick up my signals. Or Ferrus managed to contact him. We can use them to surround the Sixteenth and cut off their escape. We might be able to resolve this in decisive strike after all. Hail the Swordstorm and put me on with the Primarch of the Fifth."

"Who calls?" came a lethargic voice across the vox from the Swordstorm's communication.

"Jaghatai?" asked Fulgrim, puzzled by the tone, "We are glad you are here. Bring your vessels around to starboard to bring you in behind the forces of the Sixteenth. We'll catch them in a pincer and end this treason within the hour."

"Why?"

"Why? What do you mean, why?"

"Why would I go after the Sixteenth," asked Jaghatai, with a yawn, "I like the look of your pretty little ship much more. Give it to me, brother."

"What? Jaghatai, have you taken leave of your senses?" demanded Fulgrim.

"I said. Give. Me. Your. Ship." Repeated Jaghatai, a rising tone of anger entering his voice.

"Brother. Jaghatai. Bring your ships in behind the enemy formation or I will have no choice but to consider you hostile!" warned Fulgrim.

"I'll let you leave alive if you do so," continued Jaghatai, ignoring Fulgrim's words, "You and all your sons. I have no interest in slaves today, just your pretty little ship."

"I'm afraid I will have to deny you that, brother," said Fulgrim, examining the sensor data of the White Scar's fleet composition, "Cut communications. Send a signal out to the rest of the fleet, prepare to turn to engage the Fifth."

"Sir! The Sixteenth and Ninth ships have started moving!" called the sensor station, "They are closing to long range fire!"

Panic began to spread across Fulgrim's features. This was too much. He could have fought his way to victory against one force but he didn't have the numbers to counter both at once. Sejanus and Tarik could feel the tension rising in the air, and Vitus took a few steps back to rest against the bulkhead.

"Alright. Split the fleet into two sections," commanded Fulgrim, "We'll try to engage them piecemeal and defeat them by order. Battle groups Seven, Three and Nine will turn and face the Fifth Legion. The rest we will bring to engage the Sixteenth."

"Sir! Battle group Two reports they are engaged with the Fifth Legion!"

"What?!" yelled Fulgrim as he turned his attention back to the starboard flank of his forces. Somehow the entire White Scars fleet had closed the gap in moments, their enhanced engines burning at full power to slam into the Third Legion's exposed flank.

"Sir, groups Eight and Nine report incoming fire from the Sixteenth! Ninth Legion ships are also opening fire!"

Fulgrim could do nothing but stare blankly at icon after icon representing an Emperor's Children ship faded out, the perfectly formed battle line disintegrating from the front and the side slowly, ship by ship. Explosions rocked The Pride of The Emperor, causing the bridge crew to sway a little.

"How… could this happen…" said Fulgrim, his face gaunt and hollow, his eyes wide and glassy. He slowly turned and stared directly at the trio of warriors to his side, "You… you betrayed me… you led me into a trap…"

"No my Lord!" exclaimed Sejanus in protest, "We had no idea the Fifth was in league with the traitors!"

"No… no, its my fault," said Fulgrim quietly, the haunted look remaining on his face as he turned back to the display, "Twice I let my hubris underestimate my enemy. Twice I failed to predict my foe's motives. Twice I thought myself perfect, and in my arrogance allowed my forces to be overwhelmed. I am a fool. I was a fool on Murder, and I am a fool here today. I have failed in my strive for perfection. These are not the actions of a perfect warrior. A perfect warrior needs to be free of assumptions. I must learn from these errors, as I have failed to do so before. But one cannot improve until the danger has passed…"

As suddenly as it appeared, the haunted look vanished, and Fulgrim once again looked every inch the strong and confident commander.

"Alert all ships, all vessels are to disengage and scatter. Fall back by whatever means are available. Any ship that makes it out of weapons rage is to make a warp jump to any system considered safe. From there, make for Chemos, Medusa or Terra, and to attach themselves to any loyalist forces stationed there."

Fulgrim continued to watch as more and more dots vanished from the display. Sejanus, Vitus and Tarik could do nothing, passive observers as the carnage unfolded. Explosions continued to shake the ship as The Pride of the Emperor turned its back to the enemy.

Fulgrim clenched his fists as a single tear of sadness and rage tricked down his face. His Legion was annihilated, his pride shattered for the second time. But this would be the last time. Somehow, by some means, he would rebuild his Legion, and he would bring bloody vengeance on those that had brought this calamity down on the Emperor's Children.