Chapter Nine

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"Sanguinius. It should have been him. He has the vision and the strength to carry us to victory, and the wisdom to rule once victory is won. For all his aloof coolness, he alone has the Emperor's soul in his blood. Each of us carries part of our father within us, whether it is his hunger for battle, his psychic talent or his determination to succeed. Sanguinius holds it all. It should have been his…,"

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Smoke and fire, that is the realization that the capital city of Liknik faces for the second time. Once it is because of the traitors killing and burning its citizens, now it is the fury of the Imperium facing it down as the Thracian regiment continues their advance. Sanguinius' plan is greatly bearing fruit. The cultists are poorly trained, poorly equipped and despite their overpowering zealousness for their patron god, Khorne. They are no match for the disciplined fire of the Thracian militia. They fight as solo soldiers, usually supporting their more powerful Chaos Space Marine masters. With said masters however now in pieces at the main gate, they are nothing more than fodder against the waiting lines of las-fire from the Imperial soldiers of Thracia.

The Cadians have done well. The Tenth Light Infantry Regiment has all been broken down into different cadres of officers to lead the militia and shore up their morale and sense. Cadians more than anyone after all is used on facing the daemonic hordes that brought doom to their world. Thus they lead from the front, whipping up the recruits to their standards that are acceptable at least. Now here they are, their training paying up in dividends.

One must not forget that they are facing people basking in the power of the one chaos god whose sole dominion relies in slaughter and fighting.

The cultists and the Neverborn, Bloodletters mostly with the occasional Helhound and other monstrosities charge the Thracian lines recklessly, slowing the advance. They throw their lives to the waiting guns without abandon even as accurate lasfire, heavy stubbers and auto cannons rip them apart. Daemonic engines are also present driven by mad cultists, their machines half alive with the perversion that they have been exposed to in the Immaterium. The mechanized tanks of the regiment face them with silent anger, the Leman Russ Tanks and the Hellcats unleashing their payloads with powerful explosions that make the ears of anyone in the vicinity ringing. The portals might be close now, but the Neverborn pulled in this world wreak as much havoc as they can as they rip apart Thracians, ambushing marching groups, charging offensive lines or leading maddened cultists to the fray.

The air is as busy as the ground. Heldrakes are present everywhere not to mention Cultists hiding out in the windows and terraces of the Spires. The Thracian Regiment has no fighter wings present, but they have a lot of Valkyries, courtesy of the production centers of the City Habs. Dogfights are everywhere, the sound of heavy bolter rotors present everywhere as the flight wings of Valkyries duke it out with that of the servants of Chaos in a struggle for air superiority. Fires blaze in the sky as ships fell with the occasional strafing run over the ledges and sides of the Spires as the Valkyries respond to fire mission requests from the soldiers down below to get rid of enemy strongpoints.

All in all, it is a slugfest that would give many later in the Thracian Regiments severe PTSD, yet many also would brag about it. For Sanguinius however, it is just a skirmish.

His white wings blaze like a shining beacon as he the Great Angel appears everywhere all over the city. He is like a sledgehammer, smashing through chaos cultists and daemons alike. Where the fighting is the largest and the heaviest, his presence would be seen like a great scythe cutting through the enemy like thresher on wheat. The Spear of Telesto burns aflame like the fires of the Emperor himself its unnatural qualities especially dangerous to daemons. More than one Bloodletter meets an uncanny end under its purifying white flames sending them running back to the Warp as they dissolve into puddles of red goo. No weapon fire can damage the Great Angel, no warp sorcery can break him, he is untouchable and he is a divine beacon of the Emperor's wrath and grace. Everywhere he goes victory follows.

His compatriots are also the same; the blood-soaked figure, taller than the rest with her primitive spear and overlarge blade running down cultists like they are ants, bisecting them with no effort while spewing lightning through her fingers evaporating cultist and daemons alike. They have no idea what she is, but for the Thracians, she is fighting alongside their Saint and that is enough. Supporting them are the Cadian Tenth Light Infantry Regiment, sons and daughters of Cadia showing the tenacity and the dedication that earned their planet the reputation that it has. Captain Mira, or rather the "general" as many of the Thracians like to call her supervises her men with professionalism while leading at the front. They cover the Great Angel, preventing him from being overrun while laying down heavy weapons fire to any heavy weapon or vehicle that would prevent the advance from being stalled.

While the mortals are basking in the joy of serving the Emperor through their courageous zeal, for Sanguinius, it is a sorrowful moment. The cultists prove no threat to him. The daemons all fell under the blazing power of the Spear of Telesto and the blade of the Teeth of Baal. The Chaos Astartes are the ones who hold a threat to him and now they're gone. No, what Sanguinius is sorrowful about is the very place they are fighting. The empty houses, town squares and workplaces. How many people died and had been butchered under the influence of the Blood god? The sticky ground is proof of their deaths. He regrets being unable to save them. The cry of the innocent is always something that Sanguinius has listened to. He's not pragmatic like Dorn. If he can help it, he would rather save lives than take it.

The campaign to liberate the city of Liknik continues until the late afternoon when the last helldrake finally fell, courtesy of Sanguinius landing on its back and spearing the abomination through its neck with the Spear of Telesto. The ugly thing lands in a fiery explosion over one of the houses.

What follows is silence as the entirety of the Thracian regiment gathers at the main spire where Sanguinius lands in a pile or raised rubble accenting his already tall height and size. He looks at the men and women surrounding him. All of them are covered in soot, dust and some are bloodied. They are a ragtag bunch, a militia scrounged up that would not be able to compare to the Imperial Army at its finest. Sanguinius has never been prouder of looking at them right now. When their planet called, they answered and that is enough for him. They may be mortals, but they are brave mortals. Noble hearts would not be denied.

"Men and women of Thracia," Sanguinius booms, his clear and musical voice ringing throughout the Spire square. "We have won!"

An air of finality seems to fall down on the listeners and it takes a moment to settle. Then the cheers happened. People are laughing and crying as they raise their weapons, hugging, and holding one another at the declaration of Sanguinius. Some are firing their weapons in the air as a celebratory mood settles on all. Sanguinius lets a rare smile touch his lips as he gestures for Gred and Forge to bring to him the banner he has commissioned before they embarked this invasion. With flourish, he unfurls it before slamming it into the pile of rubble, the colors flying proudly. It is a green field with the two suns of Thracia and the golden wheat plain.

"In the Name of the Emperor, I declare Thracia liberated!" booms Sanguinius raising the Spear of Telesto high up in victory. "For the Unity! For the Emperor!"

"For the Unity! For the Emperor! For the Great Angel!" roars the crowd even more manically. It is a beautiful sight for the Great Angel. Victory always is. Even without his sons, he can allow himself this feeling of small pleasure.

"You know your fight is not over yet right?" says Farseer Elindra with her arms crossed over her chest. The Farsseer's pale skin is drenched in blood and dirt but she seems not the least bothered by it.

Not even her presence however can sour the feeling of victory and enlightenment of Sanguinius at the moment. "Let them have this victory. They will not have any part on what is to come next after all,"

"I agree, though be warned son of the Anathema. If you pursue this course, there is no going back. The burden that would be placed on you, you will never be able to take off," says the Farseer forebodingly.

"I am born to shoulder that burden Farseer, and besides," Sanguinius lets a sly smirk appear at his face. "You'll be carrying that burden with me,"

"We'll see,"

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The next few hours are busy for Sanguinius. With the capital once more reclaimed, allows him access to atmospheric scans. The planet might be an Agri-World but the previous late Governor obviously is competent enough to make sure that have satellite scanners to monitor upcoming and going ships from the planet's vicinity. This allows him to pinpoint the ship from his foresight and the source of this invasion of the planet which is sorcery.

The last thing that Sanguinius wants after all is winning the capital only to have it bombarded from orbit. That would render moot everything that he and the brave Thracians fought for.

"So, what does the scanners say Tech-Priest?" asks Sanguinius as the cogboy that arrived with the regiment fiddles with the machines and codes inside the Governor's Spire.

"There is an anomaly at Sector Grid Alpha Teritus honoured saint," wheezes the Tech Priest, through his mechanical neck. "Scanners detect the size and type of the ship to be classified as a Battle Barge,"

"I see," Sanguinius nods to himself. He has expected as much. With Chaos Space Marines present in the planet, the warband must have a ship that can ferry all of them before they initiated planet-fall at Thracia.

"How long before they are in bombardment position of the capital?"

"Two days, honored saint," replies the wheezing Magos.

"More than enough time for me to organize the city before I need to move," mumbles Sanguinius to himself before turning to Mira who as ever accompanies him like his shadow. "Captain, what is the status of the caravans from the different villages and from the surviving City Habs?"

"Some of the closer convoys have already arrived honored Saint, but the rest of the main caravans from the City Habs with the supplies necessary to keep the city up and running are half a day away," she replies.

"Send your fastest runners to tell them to double time it. They need to be here fast before I leave for the atmosphere," says Sanguinius making the Captain blink at him questioningly.

"Leave for the atmosphere your holiness?"

"Yes, someone needs to deal with the traitors out there in there ship and prevent us all from being destroyed from orbit right?" Sanguinius replies with a small smile.

"Then I am coming with you your holiness, along with my men. I am not letting you go out there alone," says Mira stubbornly. Sanguinius can't help but feel fond of the Captain. She is one brave heart he has to admit.

"You would be facing foes I'm afraid that would be too much for you and your men and I would not have all of you killed for nothing. Do not worry, I am not going to be alone. The Farseer Elindra would fight with me,"

"She is a Xeno your holiness. She cannot be trusted," hisses Mira in distaste. "Please my lord, let us fight with you. The First volunteer group has sworn to fight and die by your side, please give us the opportunity to do so,"

"And I would honor your pledge in a fight where you would not waste your life needlessly Captain. This however I say again is beyond you. I will speak no more of this, I have given my word. For your peace of mind however captain, the Eldar will fight well beside me because she and I has a common goal. Until that goal is finished, I'm telling you to trust her the very least to fight alongside us,"

"Yes, your holiness," replies Mira with gritted teeth obviously not liking the arrangement the least but acquiescing to the authority of Sanguinius.

"Now come, let us see to it that the capital of Thracia is cleansed and working again before I go," says Sanguinius as he motions for the Tech-Priest to remain where he is while walking ahead of Mira to the command and control center of the Spire being manned by Thracian volunteers and adepts.

There is work after all to be done and a lot of things that needs Sanguinius' attention.

Fires are already starting all over the city and even atop the Spire one can see the bonfires outside the city walls. The bodies of the cultists and the left behinds of the demons are all being burned. There would be no rest for them, their souls would be returned to the god they love so much. As for the city, every effigy, print or design that has a Chaos marking on it is being burned by flamers. The city will be cleansed top to bottom with every taint of Chaos thrown into the fire lest the corruption return again.

Sanguinius also sends runners to the different caravans and supply trains that have been summoned to follow the main regiment. Their purpose is to restore the city to its glory and repopulate it again. Thracia might be an Agri-World but there are enough people in its scattered City Habs and villages that would be willing to transfer residences to the capital when the opportunity presents itself. Right now it is. From the command and console center, Sanguinius can see the large baggage trains entering the restored entrance of the city. They came either in their beasts of burden or four wheeled sleds which seems to be the norm of this planet. All in all it seems in order. Workers and repairs of the city will be handled by the people here while the Thracian regiment he has trained would hold security while he's gone.

Now all it needs is to install a Planetary Governor that can supervise the planet. The last thing that Thracia needs is a war of succession, not that it has much choice in the matter. There is after all only one survivor in the purge of the Chaos Cultists. A second cousin of the late governor away from the city before Liknik was ransacked and its populace slaughtered.

"So you are the one they call Athelstane," says Sanguinius looking at the wiry young man he has sent for in the command center. He is tall and well-groomed but not to opulently as some Planetary Governors that Sanguinius recall ten thousand years ago. Compared to them he looked ragged in fact with his robes a dirty red with a golden sash on it. He has him summoned in his presence to personally evaluate him.

"Yes, honored Saint," he answers nervously with a small stutter bowing in front of him. "In behalf of my family, and the people of Thracia, you have our deepest thanks your holiness,"

"The Emperor protects," interjects Mira at Sanguinius' side with a salute, the words being echoed by everyone on the room. None sees the annoyed quirk of eyebrows by Sanguinius. No matter what he does, he is still isn't used with his father being worshipped as a god.

"Indeed he has," answers Sanguinius keeping a lid on his annoyance. "Now Athelstane, I have news for you. As you already know, your entire family tree, the Planetary Governor that is has been cut off root, tree and stem when this Spire is taken. Unfortunately that leaves you the only one able to take the seat. I am not however giving you the seat. Why should I give it to you anyway when there are a lot of people here that fought at my side and worthier than you?"

"I do not want it your holiness, please give it to someone else," the sudden answer from the young man makes Sanguinius blink.

"Excuse me?"

"My apologies your holiness, but I do not want the seat," repeats the young man. "I am the least of my family and I am the ones they send to interact with the villages and the city habs collecting the tithes and managing the workers and the people. I am untrained for planetary politics. All I know is handling and dealing with people," he answers honestly.

A smile returns to Sanguinius' face as he places one massive hand on the young man's shoulder. "And that is why it must be you,"

"Wait, what my lord?"

"You heard me," Sanguinius answers with a small chuckle. "What this planet needs at the moment is a worker not a politician. As you can see young man, Liknik is in shambles; the planet is burning and recovering. What it needs is a leader of the people, someone like you, someone they know. In my name as Sanguinius, I proclaim you Planetary Governor of Thracia as long as you serve the Imperium and the people faithfully,"

"But my lord, I don't-," he stops as Sanguinius raises a large hand stopping his protests.

"I have said it, so it shall be done. I will go in orbit and deal with the traitor warship to prevent them from bombarding us. I've already makes things move in motion Governor. Make sure that Liknik would be repaired and repopulated. I expect you to do a good job,"

"My lord wait! My lord-," Sanguinius ignores his panicky calls as he boards the elevator and presses it on the spaceport where it immediately begins to move. He's not surprised at all to see Mira also with the elevator with him. He raises an eyebrow however at the weapon with her, a hotshot heavy stubber.

"Going somewhere Captain?" asks Sanguinius earning him a growl from the Cadian.

"You know where I am going with Lord Saint. I am not letting you go alone on that ship with only that Xeno for backup,"

"I cannot dissuade you on this can I?" he asks receiving only an unhappy glare from her.

"Human is more stubborn than some of my sons," Sanguinius' thinks to himself admitting defeat. "Best I can do is to keep her behind me and hopefully she'll survive,"

The door of the elevator dings open showing Sanguinius to the level of the spaceport. It is silent with only a few dozen red heavy Mammoth shuttles far ahead. One is shining its lights which he knows is his ride. He has already sent word that he would need a volunteer pilot for a space worthy shuttle. Apparently there is a volunteer.

"You're late son of the Anathema," the voice of the Farseer sounds above and Sanguinius can't help but shamelessly squawk as she drops from above without warning, her bare pale body once more pristine with no blood on it that has covered her before,"

"Don't do that!" hisses Sanguinius. He is normally a patient and serene being, but this Eldar really knows how to pull the human out of him. Even Mira jumps at her sudden appearance.

She smiles at his direction, her sharpened canines standing out. "I've waited long enough son of the Anathema. Let us go and meet our fates shall we," she simply says before walking towards the shuttle, her spear at her back and the jagged toothed sword at her hip.

Grumbling mentally, Sanguinius conforms himself before following her with Mira trailing behind. They entered the Mammoth Shuttle, the smell of barn animals making Sanguinius wrinkle his nose. It is not surprising seeing that this is an Agri-World and the ships here probably ferry animals and food most of all.

While the Eldar and the human strapped themselves to their seats, Sanguinius is forced to stand due to his height and girth. He has no problem with it though. The new armor made for him has mag-locks and he locks it as the shuttle easily gains altitude. They spoke no words as they enter the atmosphere. Sanguinius lets out a breathe as he realizes that he is finally outside the planet.

The plan is simple, they would hide out in the asteroid field surrounding Thracia and then when the Chaos Battle Barge appears, they would ram the shuttle into one its vulnerable structures and strike from within. If it is anyone else, it is a suicide mission. With a "Saint" however, it is an acceptable plan.

Fate however it seems like to mess with Sanguinius once more as the voice of the pilot sounds off in the intercom.

"Your holiness, we have another ship in orbit! They are engaging the Chaos warship your holiness," reports the pilot.

"Are they friend or foe?" asks Sanguinius loudly as he walks to the bridge only to see the two battle barges trading missiles and macro-cannon fire towards one another. Even from a distance Sanguinius can see the two black wings and the blood red tear drop of the battle barge at the side.

"Hail them," orders Sanguinius to the pilot who immediately gets on the vox. It is not long before they get a reply from them.

"This is the Battle Barge, Purgatory of the Angels Encarmine Chapter. We have responded to the hails of this world. To whom am I speaking? Your id tags as a supply vessel from Thracia's capital," a heavy voice replies through the vox.

Sanguinius has no idea who they are but Emperor is he glad of loyal Adeptus Astartes finally showing up. He can deal with the Battle Barge's inhabitants alone, he knows that, but having Space Marines with him should lessen the burden and speed up the time. He is not aware however of their Chapter. Are they sons of his? Or that of his brothers? Either way he is just pleased.

"What should I say my lord?" asks the pilot whom Sanguinius gestures to give to him the vox.

"This is Sanguinius, Primarch of the Ninth, Lord of Baal. I am glad that you finally have joined the fight," he says to the machine.

Numbing silence however greets him and Sanguinius has a small frown as his foresight warns him of immediate danger.

"Your holiness?" the pilot stutters nervously.

"Yes?"

"They're powering up weapons at us,"

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Author's Note:

So another chapter done. Sorry for the long updates. I'm busy reading other books and fanfictions that is why I haven't updated in a while. Either way, hope you like this chapter.

Someone asked at the reviews if this is before Guilliman and the Lion. No, it's not. It is after them. So basically Guilliman is off saving the Imperium and the Lion is also off building his own little Shang-Ri-La at Imperium Nihilus.

As usual please review for your reviews are the song to this writer's heart.