WARHAMMER DOES NOT BELONG TO ME. MASS EFFECT DOES NOT BELONG TO ME. I TRIED TURNING SOME FUNGI INTO SENTIENT WARRIORS LAST WEEK. TO MAKE A LONG STORY SHORT, I'VE BEEN BANISHED FROM ELEVEN COUNTRIES, AND ALSO VENUS, FOR SOME REASON.

Okay, I'm back to this, because I love 40K, and I love what Shepard has become too much to stop.

Star-Bound

Chapter 13

Angels

"So, let me get this straight," Shepard said as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "The Dark Angels are here, no explanation given, and have demanded that we all stand down while they do… what, exactly?"

"As you said, there was no explanation given." Dante remained completely still, but Shepard could almost feel the anger pouring off of him in waves. "They did say to keep all ground forces at their current positions, which suggests that they plan to go to the surface of Baal itself. This is unacceptable, and I refuse to allow it."

"This has something to do with that infiltrator." All eyes turned to Corax, who stood on the far side of the Black Necropolis' strategium. The room was evenly lit, but he still appeared as if he sat in shadow. "Whoever he was, he wears the armor of the First Legion, and he seeks conflict between the Blood Angels and Dark Angels."

Shepard nodded. "He said as much, back on the surface. Could he be a traitor Dark Angel, back from the Horus Heresy?"

At the name of the Arch-Traitor, the holograms of Blaise, Rex, Helmin and Dartan made warding gestures.

Corax shrugged. "It is possible. Many Legions that professed loyalty to the Emperor did have a few rogue elements, though most returned to the fold once the dust settled." At the disbelieving looks he received, he snorted. "In those days, forgiveness did sometimes occur in the Legions, so long as one did not swear allegiance to the Dark Gods."

"Regardless of who he is, we still have a problem." Dartan scowled as he looked at something on the Vehemence's bridge. "The fleets of at least five Chapters are here, along with the Rock itself. That is a considerable show of force, and though I am loathe to consider fighting Adeptus Astartes, I must point out that if we do fight, we will suffer heavy losses."

"The High Admiral is correct in his assumption." Xem-Beta's optics clicked rapidly as he spoke. "The Dark Angels and their successors possess technology few, if any, other Chapters can access. Records show that they are also highly secretive, and have been known to abandon allied forces at inopportune times, or even attack them. I calculate an eighty-three-point-two percent chance that any attempt at a ceasefire will result in furthering the Dark Angels' goals."

"Whatever they want, they will not find it here," Dante growled. "I will show our cousins that the sons of the Angel will not be bullied, especially not in our own home! I have already summoned every successor of my Chapter to Baal, but they will not be here for some time. Saint Shepard, as Regent of Imperium Nihilus, I order your Crusade to defend this system from these intruders!"

For a moment, there was silence; as a Living Saint and leader of an Imperial Crusade, Shepard had the respective authority from both the Ecclesiarchy and the High Lords of Terra to ignore Dante's orders if she wished. If she was considering doing just that, her face revealed none of it; the rest of the war council, even the Primarch, waited for her to speak.

"I hate fumbling in the dark," Shepard said as she reached a decision. "If the Dark Angels were willing to talk, maybe we could let this all slide, but from everything I've seen, their actions are dangerously close to treasonous. However, if we do end up fighting, we will not lose the moral high ground.

"Xem-Beta, do whatever you can to monitor the Dark Angels' communications and movements; inform us if you find out anything. While you're at it, if you can do something to cover our forces' landing, I'd appreciate it. Helmin, work with the Blood Angels to incorporate our forces into their defense network. Zandtus, take your Chapter and patrol between the regiments to watch out for teleporter assaults—I don't want a repeat of what happened on Prospero. Temperance, deploy your Sisters among the Militarum regiments, but I want one Preceptory with me at Sanguinius' mausoleum; that's where that infiltrator was, and if the Dark Angels are connected to him, they may try to go there. Dartan, you're under the command of Commander Dante; have the fleet do whatever he says."

She finally realized that she had technically overstepped her authority and nodded at Dante. "Unless you have any objections?"

"None, though I would ask that only you enter my Primarch's resting place, unless it is invaded," he said. "You have my thanks for your support."

"I have a request," Corax said, his tone light, but his eyes suggested that it was more of a demand. "I would ask that a force of Necropolis Hawks join me to infiltrate the Rock itself; we may find answers there, and if necessary, we can disrupt their chain of command."

Xem-Beta turned to the Primarch. "All records suggest that the Rock cannot be breached."

Corax made a noise that might have been a laugh. "The Lion was always proud; he would have never let any weakness in his defenses be known. However, I did spend some time thinking on how I would get into his fortresses, and I came up with several ways. My access codes will at least get us inside." He smirked. "Not even my brother could change the base security measures that the Emperor put into place."

Rex made the sign of the Aquila. "Truly, the God-Emperor's wisdom is unmatched."

Corax merely raised an eyebrow. "Indeed. Moving on—Chapter Master, I require your best infiltration warriors."

Zandtus knelt. "As you command, my Lord. The Tenth Company is yours."

Shepard rose from her chair, as did everyone else who was seated. "We have a plan, so let's get it done. However, the Dark Angels and their successors are still part of the Imperium; if we can stall them long enough, maybe the Blood Angels' reinforcements will make them back off, and we can resolve this without bloodshed. We have enough problems without killing our own side."

Corax nodded. "Agreed, Lady Shepard. We will only engage if the Dark Angels attempt to pass through the defense network, or land troops on the surface."

Shepard closed her eyes. "Let's just hope it doesn't come to that."

…

Within the halls of the Rock, Supreme Grand Master Azrael walked with a measured pace. He was not a man who did anything without careful consideration, and he still harbored doubts about his current course. Invading the home of loyal Space Marines was always a risky venture, but for a Chapter as potent as the Blood Angels… if this business wasn't done right, it could spell the end of the Unforgiven.

If it had only been the Blood Angels, this might have gone smoothly, but the appearance of an entire Crusade Fleet was concerning. It wasn't often that his estimates were off, but his own fleet was now matched in sheer firepower. He wouldn't be surprised if the Crusade had deployed forces to the surface to aid the Blood Angels; with so many eyes, it would be difficult to hide his activities.

Not impossible, but certainly more challenging than he would like.

As always, the risks to the Dark Angels were considerable, and oftentimes, the rewards were negligible. This time, though… this was a prize worth fighting for. Cypher had left a trail, and the Dark Angels had caught on; if fortune was with them, the Lord of the Fallen would lead them to a great many of his comrades.

"Deploy the Ravenwing," he ordered into his vox. "Find our quarry. They will not escape today."

…

"You seem tense, Your Holiness."

Shepard almost laughed. "I can't say I'm looking forward to this fight, Constance."

"If it is the Emperor's will, we shall do what is necessary, nothing more." Canoness Constance Mallis knelt in the dust. Her eyes were closed, and she looked almost tranquil. "No matter what happens, know that we will stand by you."

"I appreciate it, just like every other time."

Constance had led her Preceptory for almost fifty years, and was one of the finest commanders within the Order of Our Martyred Lady. Her black armor was engraved with microscopic script, containing every prayer favored by Saint Katherine, while the inside of her red robes had the name of every Sister who had died under her command stitched in white.

She was far from a beautiful woman; after being struck in the face by a chainaxe—and miraculously surviving—her features were marred by heavy scarring, and her scalp was so badly damaged that her hair never grew back. Still, she was calm, and almost gentle in how she spoke. It was only when battle was joined did she raise her voice or show anger. Shepard had personally witnessed her rip an Ork's head off with her bare hands when her chainsword became too clogged to use effectively. It was during that particular battle that Constance and her Preceptory became Shepard's preferred element among the Sororitas.

"Have you ever met the Dark Angels before, Constance?"

"Only once, during my first battle. I could tell, even then, that they bear a great burden on their souls. However, they were quite ferocious when fighting heretic forces, and refused to move even a single step back."

Shepard sighed. "So they're stubborn. Just once, I'd like to fight someone who gives up easily."

Constance laughed; in contrast to her appearance, her laugh was beautiful, like the tinkling of bells. "Your Holiness, if our enemies ran, we would have to waste precious time and fuel hunting them down. It is far more efficient for them to stand and fight, so that we may destroy them in one fell swoop."

"The worst thing about that is that you're not wrong." Shepard gave her a sidelong glance. "Also, have you been spending time with the Mechanicus? That almost sounded like something Xem-Beta would say."

Constance opened her eyes and got to her feet. "We worship the God-Emperor in different ways, but there are merits to some of their beliefs. And we have found common ground in being thorough with the destruction of our enemies."

"Well, let's hold off on the destruction if we can. If the Dark Angels make it to the surface, I want to take as many of them alive as possible, at least until we can confirm whether or not they've turned traitor." She glanced behind her, at the towering mausoleum. "Also, I don't want to risk damaging this place."

Constance bowed. "Of course, Your Holiness. My Sisters and I will do all we can to protect the resting place of the God-Emperor's beloved son."

Shepard put her hand on the other woman's shoulder. "Thank you. And that's not just coming from me."

Constance's eyes went wide as she realized what Shepard was saying. "I… I understand, Your Holiness. May I pass that along to the Preceptory?"

"By all means, go ahead." Shepard waited until Constance was gone, and then contacted Dante. "Commander, have there been any developments?"

"No," Dante replied. "The Dark Angels continue to demand that we stand down. I have told them that this will not happen. Their fleet is maintaining its distance, but that could change at any moment."

"All right, we just need to keep the standoff going until—hold on." Shepard tensed, and she snatched Liberator from her hip.

"Shepard? What is it?"

"I think I heard something." Shepard's eyes widened when she saw a dozen black blurs hurtling towards her. Her helmet's autosenses helped her make out the image of black-clad Space Marines riding modified bikes. "Dante, do any of your men wear black, and ride bikes?"

"No." Shepard heard the dawning shock in his voice. "Those are Ravenwing warriors! Dark Angels Second Company!"

"Shit!" Shepard switched to her local vox channel. "All forces, we're under attack by Dark Angel fast-movers!"

"Your Holiness, please return to our line!" Constance pleaded. "You will be cut off!"

"On my way!" Shepard's wings appeared, and she took to the sky. She barely started flying back to the Sororitas line when a jet-black fighter roared past, firing as it flew. "Whoa! Get back here, motherfucker!"

Despite her power, the Dark Angels fighter was too fast to catch, though a well-timed throw of Liberator did cut a groove in one of its wings. Bolts of plasma hissed through the air as the Ravenwing Black Knights fired their plasma talons at her, but the bikers were forced to retreat when a unit of Retributors jumped out of their Immolator transport before it finished stopping and threw waves of fire from their heavy flamers.

"So much for ending this peacefully," Shepard said as she landed next to Constance and the Alexian Guard. "Sorry for not bringing you with me, ladies; I didn't think they'd sneak past the fleet."

One of the Zephyrim shook her head. "We should have insisted we stay with you, Your Holiness."

Shepard shrugged. "Lesson learned for all of us, I suppose." She turned to Constance. "Pull our defenses back to the mausoleum entrance. If they managed to get that kind of hardware to the surface, I don't want to take any chances."

Constance nodded grimly, and then put on her helm. "Sisters, the Dark Angels have fired upon the Living Saint! They have forsaken their oaths, and now seek entrance to the Angel's resting place! Defend the mausoleum with your lives, and burn these traitors to the bone!"

"It shall be done!" After shouting the Crusade's battle-cry, the Sororitas readied bolters, flamers, and melta weaponry.

A pair of Exorcist tanks—a strange hybrid of weaponized pipe organ and Rhino chassis—rumbled forward, just as the black-painted interceptor returned for a strafing run. Though not designed to combat air forces, both tanks played dolorous notes as they fired a cluster of missiles. Most missed, but two struck true; the first blew off part of the fighter's tail, while the second sheared off a wing. It spiraled crazily through the air and crashed a few dozen meters away from Shepard's position.

There were no cheers from the defenders; if the Dark Angels hadn't actually turned traitor, then this was a tragedy in the making.

Even if Shepard had been in the mood to celebrate, there was no time. The Ravenwing was there in force; not just their Black Knights, but also many of their less veteran brothers drove at near-reckless speeds from several directions.

Shepard decided to try one last time to stop this war before it started, and broadcast on an open channel. "Attention, Dark Angel forces—this is Saint Alexia Shepard, of the Shepard Crusade. You are attacking loyal Imperial servants; I repeat, you are attacking friendly forces! For the love of the Emperor, stand down!"

If any of the Ravenwing considered turning back, they didn't show it. As soon as they came within range, they opened fire; plasma, grenades and bolter-fire ripped into the Sororitas. Dozens of Sisters fell, and though their armor protected some, others would never fight again.

At that point, any forgiveness Shepard might have had in her was gone; loyal or not, the Dark Angels had just killed her people.

"Drop the bastards," she ordered curtly.

Hundreds of bolters fired, followed by the high-pitched scream of multi-meltas and heavier ordnance. Most of the Ravenwing were able to avoid the fusillade, but two bikers tumbled and crashed.

Rather than try to whittle down the Sisters with hit-and-run tactics, the Ravenwing formed up into a thin wedge and charged straight at them. The speeds they employed were so great that only a few of the more veteran Sisters could hit them with flamers; even so, the Astartes' power armor protected them from the worst of the fire.

"They're headed for the mausoleum!" Shepard took to the air. "Constance, we'll buy you some time, but you have to catch up, or this is going to get even worse!"

Constance raised her chainsword. "It shall be done!"

…

Now aboard his own ship, Dante was a flurry of activity. Over a thousand years of experience was put to work, organizing both the ground forces and matching the Dark Angels fleet move for move. Their ships had started maneuvering, looking for any weakness in the defenders, but with the Shepard Crusade bolstering their numbers, such an opening was less likely.

When word spread that the Dark Angels had not only landed forces on Baal undetected, but were putting Sanguinius' body in danger, the Blood Angels in space had pleaded to land and hunt them down. With great reluctance, Dante had denied them; he suspected that the Dark Angels were only attacking the mausoleum because they were looking for the infiltrator, and that Sanguinius' body was not their objective.

More reports started coming in; elements of the Ravenwing were spotted all over the planet, but if the numbers were accurate, there were far too many for just the Dark Angels Chapter. It appeared that the successor Chapters truly were united behind their founders' efforts. He had hoped that one or more of them would be less inclined to follow the Dark Angels so willingly, but that hope had been in vain.

"Any sign of our brothers?" he asked.

One of the bridge crew shook his head. "No, my Lord; the Flesh Tearers are several hours away at the earliest, and the Angels Encarmine cannot give an accurate estimate because of Warp turbulence."

Dante nearly curse aloud; those two Chapters had been the closest, and their ferocity would have certainly turned the tide of battle. Instead, he had his depleted Chapter, an Imperial Crusade that included a full Chapter… and a Primarch.

Behind his mask, Dante almost smiled. Perhaps things are not as dire as I first thought.

Suddenly, klaxons blared as ships emerged from the Warp, directly behind the Dark Angels fleet. The ships were too far away for Dante to recognize by sight, but he hoped that they weren't more Dark Angel successors.

"My Lord!" The same bridge officer stood and turned to him with an expression of shock. "We're receiving a transmission from the new arrivals; the command ship claims to be the Star of Grief!"

"That… that is impossible." Dante's hands clenched into fists. "Put it through."

A moment later, the vox screeched, and then a voice came through. It was tired and worn, but with an inherent nobility that all sons of Sanguinius could recognize.

"This is Chapter Master Malakim Phoros of the Lamenters. We have received your call for aid, Commander Dante. How may we be of assistance?"

…

"This is a surprise," Corax murmured. "Who are these newcomers, and why do they remind me of the Imperial Fists?"

Captain Loronin, leader of the Tenth Company, frowned as he looked through the viewport. "I believe they are the Lamenters, Lord Corax. Successors of the Blood Angels—Twenty-First Founding, if I am not mistaken. I don't know much about them, save for that they have suffered grave misfortune, and that they were sentenced to a crusade of penance."

"Well, they have caught the Dark Angels by surprise; we will have no better chance than this."

The Necropolis Hawks might not have been as inclined towards stealth as their founding Chapter, but that did not mean they were any less capable than their Raven Guard brethren. The Overlord transport they rode in had been specially modified to be as close to undetectable as possible. Corax was impressed that such a large craft could do that, but Captain Loronin had admitted that the Mechanicus elements of the Shepard Crusade had helped take it beyond even what the Necropolis Hawks were capable of.

The Overlord flew through the void with minimal thrust, carefully maneuvering towards the Rock. Corax did not know what had happened to Jonson's homeworld, but Caliban must have been devastated for its fortress monastery to be flying through space.

It had been many centuries since Corax had thought of the First Legion's Primarch, but it was rapidly coming back to him. While he had never visited Caliban itself, he had studied the fortresses the Lion had built, and they all kept to a certain theme. It wouldn't be perfect, but he had a good idea of how to navigate the Rock.

What was more concerning to him, though he didn't voice it, were these new Astartes. They reminded him so much of his failed Raptor Project—they were larger and stronger, and what little time he'd had to learn about these Primaris Marines suggested that they were a bridge between Astartes and Custodes. Perhaps the Primaris Marines were a successful version of what he had tried to create.

"We will be ready to dock in ten minutes," Loronin reported. "Tenth Company, ready yourselves; today, you fight alongside our Primarch!"

Suppressed bolter variants were checked and rechecked; brothers within squads gave each other a last-minute inspection, or shared cynical jokes. It was almost relaxing to see his gene-sons acting so human.

Here he was, on an unfamiliar craft, surrounded by familiar-yet-not warriors, with weapons and armor he didn't recognize. And yet, he was about to begin an infiltration mission; in that regard, he was home.

Finally, the Overlord shuddered as it clamped onto the outside of the Rock's hangar. Corax slipped on his helm and waited for his armor to pressurize; once it did, he addressed his sons.

"Today is not a day for glory, but a day of shame for all of us," he said. "Once again, Astartes who should be fighting shoulder to shoulder draw blades against each other. During the Great Crusade, many of the Legions saw battle as a loud and chaotic affair, but that was not the way of the Nineteenth. Ours is the way of the shadow, of the silent kill; we win before the enemy even knows that we are there. We are the efficient assassins, the shadow-killers, made for this purpose by the Emperor Himself. You will come with me, and we will remind the sons of the Lion why even Astartes should fear the darkness."

The Necropolis Hawks didn't cheer, not that Corax expected them to; this was a somber mission, one that would only weaken the Imperium further, but it had to be done.

"You have all been given your assignments," he continued. "Sabotage, avoid prolonged combat, and eliminate high-value targets. I will find the so-called Supreme Grand Master and… discuss this matter with him."

…

Shepard landed among the Black Knights as they slowed to a halt outside the mausoleum. The Dark Angels detected her, but filled with rage as she was, Shepard couldn't be stopped. The first Black Knight had his chest caved in by Liberator, while another lost his arm to her weapon's bladed side. It was only when the Black Knights' leader charged her that she froze.

For a moment, the black armor and war-pick shifted; instead of a transhuman warrior, she saw an older man, a mortal, walking towards her with a smile on his face. Gregor lifted his war-pick in salute—

Except it wasn't a salute, but an attack; Shepard's sight returned to normal, just as one of the Alexian Guard brought her sword into the Black Knight's side. Shepard snapped back into action, and swung Liberator into the Space Marine's head, killing him instantly.

I can't believe that happened, she berated herself. I miss him every day, but I've never had a flashback like that. Come on, Alexia, focus!

The sound of gunfire within the mausoleum made her heart skip a beat. "Alexian Guard, hold the line! I'm going inside!"

She vaulted over a wounded Space Marine and ran into the mausoleum. There, she saw two Sanguinary Guards on the floor; one was missing his head, and the other had been shredded by hundreds of bolt rounds. She followed the sound of fighting, and saw a three-way battle in front of the Angel's body.

On one side, doing their best to keep Sanguinius' corpse safe, were the surviving Sanguinary Guard. They fought desperately against more dismounted Ravenwing, but the Dark Angels seemed less focused on them, and more on the black-armored infiltrator from before. He darted from shadow to shadow, his twin pistols wounding or killing with every shot. Shepard noticed that he wasn't trying to stay in the fight, but was just driving back anyone who got in his way.

Shepard was moving before she consciously realized what was happening. She fired her bolt pistol at the Space Marine, but only managed a few glancing hits. He looked back at her with contempt as he holstered one pistol and drew the magnificent sword from his back. With a single thrust, he pushed the blade into Sanguinius' casket—not into the body itself, but the machinery that held him in stasis. The field flickered for a moment, and then the backup power supply kicked in, but that moment was all that was needed. A small compartment opened, and he reached inside to pull out a vial of red liquid.

"My thanks," he said with a mocking bow, and when Shepard blinked, he was gone.

Shepard had no time to think about what had happened, because two more Black Knights were charging her. Fueled by her growing anger, she hurled Liberator into the chest of one Space Marine, killing him instantly, and then punched the other so hard that he was knocked flat on his back. By the time Shepard recalled her weapon back to her hand, the remaining Sanguinary Guards had finished off the Ravenwing forces.

"Is that all of them?" she asked, and a Blood Angel nodded. "All right, I'm going back outside. Someone tell Commander Dante what happened; I'll be outside, trying to keep the other Dark Angels out."

She hurried outside, but as soon as she saw what awaited her, she froze. Of her loyal Alexian Guard, only four remained alive, and they were all wounded; the rest had been shot or beaten to death. Shepard took a moment to process that; in the years since the Alexian Guard had been founded, they had never taken a single casualty. The worst part was that, rather than die fighting an enemy of the Imperium, they had fallen at the hands of those they should have fought alongside.

By the time she approached the survivors, Shepard was trembling in rage, and it took all of her considerable willpower not to shout.

"Are there any prisoners?" she asked one of the Alexian Guard.

The Zephyrim nodded. "One, Your Holiness. Canoness Mallis has him under guard now."

"Good. I'm going to talk to him." She put her hand on the other woman's shoulder. "Get your wounds treated, and have your fallen sisters taken somewhere safe."

"Your Holiness, would you not prefer to have a guard with you?"

Shepard forced a smile. "I appreciate it, but you've done enough today. Please, take care of your dead for me; when this is over, I'll make sure they receive every honor."

The surviving Alexian Guard bowed, and then slowly moved their dead to the Preceptory's lines. They left the dead Space Marines in the dirt, and Shepard didn't blame them. She found Constance and a squad of her Celestians—elite Sororitas bodyguards—standing over a wounded Black Knight. The Canoness had her helmet on, but the way she held herself suggested that she was as furious as Shepard felt.

"Your Holiness, please give the order to have this one executed," Constance all but snarled. "I would not suffer this traitor to breathe on this world any longer."

"Oh, I feel the same," Shepard said, "but I want some answers, and by the Emperor, I'm going to get them."

The Black Knight's backpack had been removed, limiting his armor's functions, and each of the Celestians had a storm bolter aimed at his head. He still wasn't much of a threat with his arms severed at the elbow and one leg mangled beyond recognition, but Shepard appreciated the gesture. The Space Marine's helm had also been removed, revealing a scarred face that glared up at her with contempt.

"I'm going to ask you a question," Shepard spat, "and so help me, if you don't answer, I'm going to take my time killing you."

The Black Knight sneered. "Give me a weapon, abomination, and I will give you my answer."

Shepard sneered right back. "With what arms, dumbass?" She reached down and heaved him up to be at eye level. "Why are you here? What did that other Marine, the one with the pistols, want with Sanguinius' blood? What could be so important that you would risk going to war with the Imperium you're supposed to serve?"

For a moment, it seemed like the Space Marine wouldn't answer; instead, he closed his eyes. "Redemption. That is all we seek."

Shepard dropped him to the ground. "If that's the case, then you're doing a terrible job at it. If anything, this seems like a step backwards, doesn't it?"

The question was directed at the Sororitas, but the Space Marine shrugged. "I do not question the orders of the Supreme Grand Master. I only obey."

Shepard bit back a snarl. "He doesn't know anything useful, and I'm not feeling merciful today. Someone kill him; I have a war to end."

As Shepard turned and left, she heard the crack of a bolt round and the grisly chunk of a head exploding. She had never ordered the execution of a prisoner before; even back in the Empire, such a thing would have turned her stomach. But she had looked into the Space Marine's eyes, and she saw the delusion—he had believed that, so long as their original sin was erased, the Dark Angels could be forgiven for everything else.

No, she thought fiercely, you won't.

…

"It is done." Cypher held out the vial to the diminutive creature before him. "The blood of the father of angels."

The Watcher in the Dark shifted in its green robes, but though it said nothing, Cypher seemed to understand. He knelt and held the Lion Sword across his palms.

"The blade of the father of angels." The Watcher opened the vial, and the blood of a demigod was poured across the length of the blade.

"The blood of the dead shall meet the blade of the sleeping," Cypher continued, while more Watchers joined the first. "The ancient pacts are met. The sleeping king shall wake once more."

The blood sizzled, yet there was no heat; the blood crawled across the blade, merging with the metal, until it looked as if it had been forged to be red.

Cypher stood tall and admired the sword for a moment. He then turned to the dozen Watchers in the Dark.

"Take me to my father."

…

Corax was impressed by the layers of security he had to navigate; the Lion had designed his stronghold well, especially since it had survived the destruction of Caliban and could now fly through the void. Were it not for Corax's supernatural gifts of stealth, the internal defenses of the Rock would have killed even him by now.

As he traveled deeper and deeper, he noticed that there were fewer Dark Angels; by now, he had not seen any at all. It was starting to concern him.

Do the sons of the Lion not travel into this place? If so, why have more defenses the further down I go? Something is being guarded here, but I suspect that not even the Dark Angels are aware it exists. If they do, they put too much faith in these unmanned weapons.

Finally, after evading a net of lasers that would have carved him into pieces, Corax was past the defenses. It took him a moment, but the chambers he entered now reminded him of the cells he had once liberated.

This was a prison.

You and I were never close, brother, Corax thought, but if this place was of your design, I will be… upset.

The sound of footsteps caught his attention; for a fraction of a second, far faster than any human mind was capable of thinking, he considered using his wraith-slip to vanish. But his eyes pierced the shadows ahead, and for the first time in millennia, froze in shock.

"How is this possible?" he asked.

With Cypher on one side, and a score of small robed creatures on the other, Lion El'Jonson raised an eyebrow.

"That is a question that has been plaguing my mind as well, brother." The Primarch of the Dark Angels looked around him. "There is much I do not know."

Throughout his self-imposed exile, the Dark Gods had tried to deceive Corax with false images of his brothers—missing, dead, or traitorous. Every time, he had seen through such deception. Now, however, he knew this was no illusion. He took a step forward, and then another, and then he was in front of the Lion, and embraced him.

"It is… good to see you as well, Corvus." Jonson had never been one for emotion, and though his own embrace was awkward, there was genuine warmth as well.

Corax stepped back. "There is much you need to know, brother, but it must wait." He shot Cypher a withering glare—to the Fallen Angel's credit, he looked down, unable to meet the Raven Lord's gaze. "For now, I need your help to end a war."

…

"Intruders detected on the eighteenth level," a serf reported. "Two cogitators have been destroyed, nine Astartes reported wounded, five more dead on that level alone."

"We have calculated that at least one hundred enemy Astartes have boarded the Rock," another serf said. "A full company; they bear the heraldry of the Necropolis Hawks."

Azrael's hand rested on the hilt of his sword. "Have all Tactical and Intercessor squads hold their positions at every access point. Divert Reiver squads and two Deathwing squads from the planetary assault and begin seek-and-destroy pattern epsilon."

The attack on Baal had been a mistake, that much was clear. With the unexpected arrival of the Lamenters in their rear, the combined Dark Angels fleet had been thrown into disarray long enough for the Shepard Crusade and defending Blood Angels ships to outmaneuver them. Five of his ships had been disabled in less than an hour, including a Battle Barge of the Guardians of the Covenant. It was only a matter of time before his fleet was defeated—considerably less, if more Blood Angel successors showed up, which was likely.

He had no choice but to order the withdrawal. It would take significant influence to get this incident overlooked, and he would have to order all Unforgiven Chapters to avoid the sons of the Angel for at least a few centuries.

The worst part about it all was that it was all for nothing. Some of his Ravenwing had tracked the Lord of the Fallen to the resting place of Sanguinius—they had forced their way through the Sororitas guarding it, but he had lost contact since. If the reports of increased aggression on the part of the defenders were any indication, something must have happened that was blamed on the Dark Angels.

Another sin you have committed while wearing the armor of the First Legion, Azrael thought bitterly. I take no pleasure in hunting down any of the Fallen, but I shall smile when you are finally brought to me in chains, Cypher.

"My Lord!" Breaking protocol, a third serf stood up and faced him directly. "I don't understand how, but I am registering forces outside the command room!"

Azrael whirled and drew his sword, just as the door slid open—not blown open by explosives, but opened freely.

That is impossible, he thought. That door was sealed with my own codes! No one has the authority to override them, except—

"Stand down, my son." Before Azrael fully registered the voice, he was on one knee, his sword pointed tip-first into the floor. He looked up to see two figures of legend.

One wore armor of black, battered by age and constant fighting. His face was haggard, but there was a newfound vitality there—he was a warrior who had rediscovered his purpose.

The other was every inch the noble monarch, and for all the charisma the first exuded, the second had a connection to Azrael that went beyond appearance. He wore black armor as well, but unlike his brother, his armor glistened, where the other's sank into every shadow. His pauldrons were sculpted to look like lions, while every edge was gilded.

Only his head was exposed, revealing a face that betrayed no emotion, save for his eyes; they took in every detail, passing it to a mind that was beyond even Azrael's comprehension. At his side was a magnificent sword—a golden hilt and a red blade that, even unpowered, was capable of killing an Astartes with a single blow.

For a moment that stretched on for an eternity, Azrael stared at his gene-father. Behind him, the serfs had all prostrated themselves. The moment only ended when a third person chuckled.

"Yes, two Primarchs can be a bit overwhelming, I suppose."

Azrael's gaze snapped to the sight of his quarry. Without thinking, he jumped to his feet, drew his sword, and charged.

"My Lord, step back!" he shouted. "He is of the Fallen, and must be defeated!"

Before Azrael could blink, his sword was knocked from his hands, and he was on his back. It was neither Corax nor Cypher who had disarmed him, but the Lion, who gently rested the tip of his sword against his breastplate.

"This one, the one you call Cypher, has much to answer for," Jonson said calmly. "He has willingly submitted himself to his fate, for he has achieved his aim—to awaken me from my long slumber. That must wait, however; my brother has informed me of your reckless attack upon the home of the Ninth Legion, which I demand be stopped."

As if to punctuate his words, the Rock shuddered as torpedoes exploded against its void shields.

Azrael glared one more time at Cypher, who smirked under his hood, before getting to his feet. "As you command, my Lord."

He made his way to the vox terminal and sent his authorization codes to the fleet before speaking on an open channel.

"All ships, all sons of the Lion, this is Supreme Grand Master Azrael, Chapter Master of the Dark Angels. My brothers… stand down. This battle is over. To all defenders of Baal… we surrender.

"Commander Dante, I would speak to you in person." Azrael glanced over his shoulder at his Primarch. "There is much to discuss."

So… yeah. I brought Lion El'Jonson back. I'm sure you all have quite a few questions, but you'll have to wait until the next chapter before you get answers. But, yes, Shepard came to Baal to find one Primarch, and ended up with two. That's a bargain if I've ever seen one.

Also, the Lamenters showed up. They are my favorite Blood Angels successor, bar none. If their heraldry wasn't so damn hard to paint, I probably would have started an army of them. If you don't know who they are, I encourage you to look them up, because they are some of the most badass Space Marines around, and that's saying something. Oh, and I made up the name of the Star of Grief, since there is precious little on the Lamenters' fleet, and the few named ships mentioned were all destroyed or stolen by the Minotaurs.

As always, please consider buying my book, Alpha Sanction, by Josh Gottlieb. You can find it on my website (link in my profile) or on Amazon, either as an eBook or physical copy. If you like big science fiction battles, I think you'll like my book. Also, the sequel will be coming out soon!

You can also support me on P-atreon by following the other link in my profile. Doing so brings me just a little bit closer to not having as much stress in my life. Less stress means more writing, which is good for everyone.

Here's a thank-you to the people who have helped lower my stress levels:

Serious Muffins: jafr86, SpaceEmperorSpar, Nimrod009, Anders Lyngbye, Krisjanis Jansons, Matthias Matanovic, ChaosSpartan575, Alexis Troy, John Collins, Calleo, Casey Pak, Red Bard, Ultimatrix10

Incredible Muffins: RaptorusMaximus, michaelb958, Crazyman844, Jaeger456, killroy225, Brian McGloughlin

Ultra Muffins: Adam Costello, Jeffrey Perigo, Matthew Bunting, RangersRoll

Next Chapter: The Saint and the Raven mediate between angels, and the Awakened King joins his brother's quest to meet the Avenging Son.

While one Muffin remains free, we remain Unforgiven.