Un-named System - Near the border with the Ghoul Stars

Nostramo Sector/Ghoul Stars

Disupted Territories

The battle began well for the pursuing Raven Guard vessels. Easily detecting all of the
known enemy ships they had rushed in system in an attempt to pin them against the dying
star. It had been obvious to them that the fleeing Night Lord ships were now at their
breaking point and were reduced to the tactics of desperation. Still the Raven Guard had
not survived the Horus Heresy through stupidity or lack of caution and so a heavy flotilla of
attack frigates led by three Strike Cruisers had been deployed to protect the rear of the
attack formation. It was all that had saved them from heavy losses when The Raven's
ambush was sprung.

Even as the original Night Lord force moved out to give battle their new allies - led by the
Red Blade - had sallied forth from their hidden orbits in the asteroid field and charged to
attack Corax's fleet from the rear. Only the rear guard flotilla had stood between them and a
totally free hand to attack the Raven Guard from behind. The three Strike Cruisers
immediately concentrated their fire upon the Red Blade, while the flotilla of frigates charged
into the oncoming Night Lord ships in a vain attempt to force them to break off their attack.
While that wasn't successful they did at least buy time for the main force of Raven Guard to
redeploy into a more defensive formation. Almost unsupported the Red Blade was also
crippled by the smaller Strike Cruisers, however it destroyed two and drove the other off
with heavy damage. The losses amongst the frigates were even more severe. Even crippled
the berserker's of the World Eaters on the command of their lunatic Centurion Brall
continued their mad charge straight at Lord Corax's flagship with straining engines while
around them the ambush force of Night Lord's joined and then passed them.

Due to the heroic actions of the rear guard the Raven Guard fleet was not crushed between
the two forces of Night Lords, yet the fight had clearly swung against them. Trapped in a
defensive formation they were hemmed in on all sides by the warships of the VIIIth Legion,
while the Red Blade had plunged deep into their own formation with guns blazing.
Although the World Eater warship was now nothing but a riddled hulk drifting and burning
in the void, it had lasted long enough to launch a full spread of Caestus Assault Rams.
Rather than attempt to board a single ship the enraged berserker's of the XIIth Legion had
attacked any target of opportunity. On half a dozen ships the lunatic son's of Angron were
engaged in brutal hand to hand combat with Corax's sons. No ship was at risk of being
taken or overrun, yet they were proving a constant distraction and drain of manpower. On
the Avenger itself Centurion Brall was leading a small surviving force of Triarii towards the
bridge while the further gone warriors of the Rampager's and Red Butcher's slaughtered
their way through the lower decks.

Neither side had risked a close engagement between the heavier warships of the forces
content to launch long range torpedo and lance strikes in a hope of getting a lucky shot,
while the lighter vessels of the two Legion's wove between each other seeking to gain and
advantage. Still it was only a matter of time before the Night Lord's closed in and attempted
to so severely maul the Raven Guard that they would be forced to flee in defeat.

Which was when the Warp tore open and more ships arrived. Black ships with no
transponders blaring their allegiance, no hails announcing their loyalties, spewed from the
Warp in a tight formation. Leading the way was a powerful force of nearly twenty capital
ships each painted midnight black. Around them squadrons of Strike Cruisers, Destroyers
and flotilla's of Frigates surged forward to escort them, while from their decks dozens upon
dozens of Primaris Lightning's and Xiphon Interceptor's streaked forth.

On the bridge of the Avenger Lord Corax looked at the huge holo-table with a look of
disgust upon his face, even as all around him the command staff broke into roaring chaos as
they tried to ascertain the source of these new ships and whether they were friend or foe. All
of which Lord Corax's ended with a quite voice dripping in loathing. "They are our dark kin.
My lost sons. Returned to haunt me... And perhaps to seek vengeance for their exile..."

Un-named System - Near the border with the Ghoul Stars

Nostramo Sector/Ghoul Stars
Disupted Territories

The new arrivals were charging down upon the battle with clear intent to attack, yet it was
unclear exactly who they would attack. Still The Raven hadn't survived years of being an
outsider with the psychotic Night Lord's Legion by taking chances. Even as the new capital
ships took up attack formations his own small fleet of ships was breaking off the
engagement and heading for the nearest Mandeville point as fast as their engines could
take them. An unfortunate side effect of this was to leave his "allies" trapped between the
Raven Guard force and the new arrivals, yet it was fair to say that was a matter of total
indifference to him and indeed to the warriors and officers of his fleet. The bonds of
brotherhood within the VIIIth Legion were noticeable more in their absence these days. His
one concession to his allies was to have his vox operators inform those ships who through
luck of position or speed that could reach him before he jumped out that they were more
than welcome to join him. The two Strike Cruisers, 5 Destroyers and 11 Frigates that applied
to deserted en mass to his force. Survival was everything these days.

Even as The Raven's forces disengaged and fled, the second smaller force of Night Lord's
ships were able to find out the loyalties if not the specific allegiance of the new arrivals as
long range torpedo and lance strikes were joined by inbound waves of fighter craft
swarming over them and pinning them against the Raven Guard fleet. Caught between the
two forces their ships began to burn. Void shields would flare and die under relentless
hammering and then the strikes would begin to carve deep into the ships themselves. While
the Raven Guard ships kept a relatively safe distance and continued the long range
bombardment of the trapped Night Lords the new arrivals did no such thing. Instead they
closed the distance and soon boarding torpedo and assault rams were crossing the void as
Astartes in unmarked black power armour began to board the Night Lord's ships. The Night
Lord's Astartes on the boarded vessels were confident they would be able to repel the
assaults as over the course of the Horus Heresy and it's aftermath they had acquired a
strong reputation as Fleet Marines, yet from the first engagements found themselves
matched in skill and outmatched in numbers. Years of running battles, small scale
engagements and the occasional major action had left the Astartes compliments on the
Night Lord ships much lower than was the norm, while the waves of incoming attackers
would suggest that the new arrivals at least were almost at full strength. Running battles the
length of the ships were soon breaking out and the boarded ships quickly fell out of the
scratch defensive formation.

It did not escape Lord Corax's notice that the new arrivals seemed to be specifically
targeting the ships they were boarding, even to the extent of ignoring easier targets. A
quick glance at the single librarian upon the bridge confirmed his suspicion with a nod. The
ships being targeted were those without taint or at least with minimal taint from any
heretical practises. The ones most likely to be salvageable. Stepping up to the holo-
projectors upon the bridge Corax gave the order. "Transmit to the new ships. This is Lord
Corax. Identify yourself immediately. That is an order."

A few seconds later a figure appeared on the holo-receiver plate upon the bridge. "You
know who I am Corax Corvus. Nor do I take orders from you anymore. Those days are long
gone. You who sent our kin to die and then exiled us from our own Legion have no right to
demand obedience from us. We are not your slaves."

Corax's lips drew back in a half snarl. "Arkhas Fal. You have disobeyed my command!"

Whatever reply Corax was expecting a bark of laughter was not it. "I have been disobeying
your command for years Lord Primarch! When I heard of the ruin you had led my Legion
too at the Dropsite Massacre I gave up any pretence of following your orders! Instead I
began to gather the various nomad-predation fleets of my brothers under my command. At
first perhaps I hoped to be recalled to serve. Yet the call never came. And so we chose our
own path."

Forcing calm the Raven Lord spat out. "Then why are you here? For revenge?"

Even as the Astarte and the Primarch spoke across the void, the battle continued to rage
around them. Although it was now more of a mopping up exercise. The few remaining
Night Lord's ships in system were bleeding wrecks barely firing any more, merely awaiting
their eventual destruction or seizure. The bulk of the betrayed force of Night Lord's ships
had been destroyed with a handful in the process of being returned to Loyalist service.
While The Raven's fleet had fled the system mostly intact and the Raven Lord's ships had
been sufficiently mauled that they would require to break off the pursuit. The new arrivals
damage had been more severe damage to their ships, yet they had actually added to their
fleet with the ships they were in the process of capturing.

A smile broke the cragged features of the former Shade Lord. "In a way... Oh we're not here
to kill you or attack you. Saving you is the worst revenge I can take upon you. Knowing you
owe your existence to myself and the warriors of the Xeric Tribes... Those who you scorned
and abandoned... That is my revenge upon you Lord Corax. But no, I am not here for
revenge. Not at least in the main. I am here to save a fellow Loyalist. For we are still loyal.
Loyal not to you, but to the God-Emperor. To the Imperium. We have always been loyal. We
remain true to our oaths, sworn on far away Terra. We have returned from the void... And we
shall wreak a bloody harvest on those who have betrayed their oaths... We are Raven Guard
no longer, we are the void swimmers... the star sharks... the hunters between the stars... the
Carcharodon Astra!"
Imperial Secondus on Terra

All around the cloned Primarch who was the self appointed lord of Imperial Secondus his
realm burned. Orbital strikes, gunship bombardments and heavy artillery had crushed his
small mountain kingdom in a whirlwind assault that not even his meticulous preparations
could stop. His True Loyalists, stiffened with a handful of Astartes, had fought magnificently
despite the overwhelming numbers that had been brought to bare against them. Yet they
had barely slowed the attacks which had smashed their way deep into Imperial Secondus.
He himself with a small bodyguard squad of the best Astartes under his command had led
counter attack after counter attack, throwing the columns of Traitors back and buying time
for his True Loyalist regiments to fall back to the next line of entrenchments. And then the
next. Again and again he had blooded the Traitors and made them bleed for every inch of
the planet that they were reclaiming for the Arch Traitor. In the end all that had been left to
him was to make his last stand in the ruined forges that had been his primary reason for
seizing the territory.

Looking around at the bloody and smoke blackened faces and helmets of the warriors
around him Roub Guilliman gripped the heavy bolter that was his personal rifle tightly
before checking the hacked and only semi-functional power sword at his waist. A single
Blood Angel Astarte and two Imperial Fists were all that were left of his Astartes followers,
although perhaps a few White Scars were still out there trying to buy time. Or even better
trying to disengage and continue the fight another day. They were ill suited for this type of
last stand. Around them were clustered all that were left of his True Loyalist regiments... A
few thousand at most, hunkered in the rubble and ruin that had been the heart of his mini-
kingdom. Even how his two great hearts swelled with pride and shame. Pride in the heroism
he had seen from his followers in the preceding battles. Shame that he had lied to them. He
should have told them he was a clone. Not a real Primarch. Maybe some had been tricked
into following him, thinking him one of the Emperor's true sons.

As though reading his mind the patrician face of the Imperial Fist sergeant who had been
the architect of the now ruined defensive works turned to him and bared bloody teeth at
him in a pained smile. "For the record Lord Guilliman... We Astartes always knew you weren't
really the Lord of Macragge. I bet the Imperial Army troopers knew too... Doubt many of the
others didn't figure it out when the reports of cloned Primarchs started coming in..."

"Then why...?"

A hollow laugh came from the battered helmet of the single Blood Angel survivor. "Because
you were prepared to fight. To fight for the Emperor. To fight the Arch Traitor. That was
enough for us. For all of us."

Just as Roub felt his shame melting in the revelation he saw the Traitor forces begin to
move forward. Armoured vehicles moved into firing positions as Traitor Legion Astartes
moved up. Leading the way was a new figure, one that he'd only seen at a distance before
yet who was now in the front lines. The new Warmaster he had been told. The Traitor Lion El
Jonson. One of the Emperor's son's who had turned from his oaths and spat on his vision. It
looked like he was going to come in to finish it himself. The clone had always secretly
known he couldn't stand up to a true Primarch. Yet now at the end and facing his doom he
snarled in defiance. Clone or not he was going to hack his way through to that Traitor
bastard and gut him or die trying. He might not be able to win but he'd go down fighting.
As would every man and woman under his command! Glancing around him he raised his
heavy bolter in the same way an ordinary man might raise a pistol and roared loud enough
for every survivor of his troops to hear. "No retreat! No surrender! Death to the Traitors!"

Hearing the roars of fury and hate coming from the Loyalist's last sad pathetic lines the Lion
chuckled to himself as he flicked his sword in anticipation of blooding it in another of the
false-brothers. This one had put up something of a fight in the last week at least. Now to
find out if he could do the same sword to sword. Keying the vox to all of his forces slowly
tightening the noose around the last holdouts of Imperial Secondus he chuckled. "You
heard them... No surrender... Kill them all... All units... Open fire!"
Battle Barge Void Shark
Un-named System - Near the border with the Ghoul Stars
Nostramo Sector/Ghoul Stars
Disupted Territories

"I am not doubting your intent brother... But can we trust any Primarch? Our own threw us
to the dark and look what his brothers did! Horus, Angron, Mortarion and the rest... I say
that the worst thing for the Imperium was the finding of those damned Primarchs!" Nerat
Kirine leaned forward, sharp features twisted in anger. It was noteworthy that of the two
dozen officers around the table almost a third nodded in agreement with the Shade
Commander of the Ashen Claws. Including all three of his own Shade Captains.

Shade Lord Arkhas Fel stared at each of the nodding officers in turn, before turning the full
weight of his gaze upon his old friend and subordinate Nerat Kirine. "You think I have any
great love of our "father" brother? You know I do not. Yet not all Primarch's are the same.
You yourself often spoke highly of the Warmaster before his betrayal..." As the Shade Lord
reminded everyone in the command room of those old loyalties the spector of long gone
arguments stirred for a few seconds. Few in the room would forget that the officers of the
Ashen Claw's had at least initially advocated coming into the war on the side of the
Warmaster, before his full treachery had been known. Once that had come out their
standing in these command meetings had fallen drastically and only recently recovered
sufficient that their Shade Commander would dare to challenge the Shade Lords wishes.

Growling slightly Nerat shifted his head in what a generous observer might be considered a
nod, acknowledging his superior's point. "Which is exactly my point... Even I believed in
Horus until I realised what he had become... How can we trust any Primarch if even the
greatest of them can fall so far?"

"Because we must brother. We must." Arkhas Fel stood and looked down the table at the
various Shade Captains and those men he had elevated to the new rank of Shade
Commanders. "Brothers when I last led the Raven Guard we had the whole Imperium to call
upon for ships, material and men. Our numbers swelled with recruits from our tribes on
Terra who were brought to the front fully equipped with armour and weapons and in ships
provided by Terra and Mars. Now? We have a handful of Tech-Priest forges on our capital
ships and a small number of worlds which we have brought into compliance. None of which
are industrial giants. We can barely replace our losses in munitions and equipment and we
all know we are centuries from being able to replace even the lightest frigate or transport.
The loss of a single Strike Cruiser or Battleship would be impossible to replace inside of a
millennia! If we are to grow stronger we must have a better source of equipment and ships
than scavenging from the Night Lord curs! The remaining Imperial regions are still able to
provide these things for us, indeed our scouts report that the Primarch Vulkan has even
managed to increase production in advance of the immediate needs of the Loyalist faction
of Imperial Secondus and is providing equipment to other Imperial Loyalists! I wish some of
that surplus to help us rebuild our strength!"

The Shade Lord's point was well made and well received, even Nerat Kirine's own Shade
Captains nodding in agreement. Even he nodded albeit reluctantly. Yet Arkhas Fel was not
done. "More brothers. We are Loyal. We have always been Loyal. You have all spoke with
the Chaplains. Particularly the new ones, called to serve the God-Emperor? Yes I thought as
much... Our former liege has ascended into Godhood brothers. There is a new Imperial
Truth. Many of you like me have walked the same ground as the Emperor when He was
a mere man. Can you in all honesty say you are surprised at His ascension? I know I am not!
He was always... More. More than what even we could see. I served Him as Emperor and I
will now serve Him as God-Emperor. Will you?"

At that even the voice of the Ashen Claw's Shade Commander rose in strong affirmation.
While they had wandered the Ghoul Stars more and more of the Chaplains assigned to the
nomad-predation fleets had received visions. Angels coming to them and explaining the
new reality of the God-Emperor. Even some of the rank and file Astartes had received those
visions and had since joined the ranks of the Chaplains. While new, the Imperial Faith was
strong throughout the various ships, companies and Chapters that made up the newly
declared Carcharodons. Arkhas Fel smiled broadly at his officers and nodded. "Good. Then
we shall send an envoy to Macragge and to the Phalanx to seek support. We need ships,
weapons and armour. Munitions, spare parts, fuel, tanks and transports. Nerat... I think you
can best serve us in this mission..."

Looking up in shock the Shade Commander gasped. "I...?"

"Yes. I value your scepticism and questioning nature brother. It is no bad thing that the
other Loyalists are made to realise that we are allied... Yet independent. I think you will best
represent that reality to them." The Shade Master smiled broadly, yet behind the smile of
approval was also the thought that this would trap the Ashen Claw's commander into a
mission that he would be forced to support fully or risk it being seen as his failure. He would
now have to defend the efforts to ally with the other surviving Loyalists or admit he had
failed. "Take the Wicked Claw and a suitable force of escorts. I will take the rest of the fleet
and retreat back into the Ghoul Stars to await your return... We shall continue recruiting
from the local populations in anticipation of the equipment you will no doubt secure for us...
Given your mission I think that we can ensure that your own Ashen Claw's Chapter is given
priority for the new aspirants."

Despite knowing exactly what was going through the Shade Lord's mind the Shade
Commander was trapped by his own desire to rebuild his force and smiled slightly and
nodded his head in acceptance. While he had three remaining Shade Captains under his
command in truth their "commands" were half what they should be and his Chapter which
had already been under strength at the start of their exile was now woefully undermanned.
He had entered the Ghoul Stars with four thousand Astartes, a bare 40% of the strength of a
Chapter, yet was now reduced to a mere 1,500 Astartes. All of the other Shade Captains and
Shade Commanders were as equally desperate for aspirants as the Ashen Claws, so anything
that would get him priority was to be pursued wholeheartedly. He would just have to give
this mission his full support despite his misgivings if he was to win Arkhas's support for the
rebuilding of the Ashen Claws.
The Perfect Blade - Emperor's Children's Strike Cruiser
Somewhere along the Horusite Border Marches

The former Librarian turned Chaos Sorcerer Nebrillian walked towards the huge ornate
gates that led to the Court of Blades with a confidence that he did not feel. The two guards
armed with twin artificer wrought power blades each watched him come forward and made
no move. They might have been beautiful statues if it wasn't for the slight dripping of the
blood from their bared blades. It was a rare day or even hour that went by that Lord-Prince
Lucius the Perfect Blade didn't order someone's execution. Or conduct it himself using the
Laer blade if he was particularly bored. Usually in response to news that he did not wish to
hear. News such as that the former Librarian now carried. Still he was at least for the time
being a member of the Court of the Blades and the golden doorways depicting Lucius's
triumphs opened without the slightest noise or delay.

Striding forward and ignoring the combat between two aspirants which was the focal point
of the Court today, he abased himself before the Lord-Princes's throne which had been
made from the blades of those who he had defeated in single combat. Rumour had it that
there had not been enough blades to finish it when it was first crafted, so Lucius had
resolved the problem by duelling and killing a dozen of his own honour guard. Since that
shortage it had grown both horizontally and vertically as more and more blades and
weapons were added to the throne. An Elder power sword with a soul gem still blazing
within it was fused diabolically to a Khornite chain axe that Lucius had claimed from a
former World Eater who had dared to insult his blade work as too fancy was just in sight
from where Nebrillian lay awaiting his lord's command to rise, while a tulwar from a White
Scar joined the blades of an Ultramarine Gladius and a Thousand Son Khopesh made up
another corner of the base of the throne he knew.

Finally and with a languid sigh came his Lord-Prince's voice. "You may rise Neb... Rise and
give your no doubt tiresome news... They are boring me anyway. Neither are worthy to enter
My Legion. Have them killed and their bodies fed to the servitors..."

Not a single member of the Court of Blades dared to point out the superb skills of the two
duelling aspirants, nor the waste of precious and irreplaceable gene-seed. To do so was
tantamount to suicide.

Rising the Sorcerer inclined his head in another additional gesture of respect. "My lord-
prince... My coven and I have troubling news." Yes, best to share the blame with all the
Sorcerers of the warband. Not even Lucius would kill all of his sorcerers. Hopefully.

Lucius's scarred face twisted in anger. "Troubling news... Well spit it out! Do you expect me
to beg for my own damn sorcerer to tell me important information?!"
"Not at all my Lord-Prince... We are being followed. We sensed that someone was
attempting to follow our trail through the Warp and made sacrifices and prepared spells to
discover the truth... The Daemon's we enlisted to our services have now reported back. A
task force of Wolves and Iron Hands are pursuing us." Nebrellion carefully did not meet the
Lord-Princes eyes. Such might be seen as a challenge. "They are a few weeks behind us. In
overwhelming force."

"Overwhelming you say? Do you think some curs and a few cripples can defeat MY Legion?"
Lucius half screamed and gripped the Laer blade as though ready to fly into an attack.

Sensing the impending disaster the Apothecary-Lord Von Kalda stepped forward and
bowed deeply. "Of course not my Lord-Prince! Were it a matter of simple blade work you
would be able to kill them all on your own! Yet they will no doubt fear your blades and will
attempt to finish the matter in the void with macro-cannon and lance strikes rather than
honourably with blades in hand! You know the bestial warriors of the VIth Legion and when
has the "Iron" Tenth known anything of true honour?!"

Lucius settled back into his throne with a snort and then a laugh. "You speak the truth Von
Kalda... They would not dare face me even alone let alone with the finest warriors of My own
Legion... Yes... They will attack from a distance and attempt to rob us off our martial glory...
Corpse worshipping scum... Well.. Are you not my Court? Do I not keep you in drugs,
servitors and blood in return for your wisdom and advice... Such as it is... Advise me!"

A chorus of suggestions immediately were thrown forth by the various "courtiers" of the
Principality of the Blades, now known upon Lucius's whim as the Legion of Perfection or the
Legion of the Blade Masters depending on his mood. Finally however it was the former
Night Lord Captain turned Slaaneshi worshipping Jotun of the Dead Scorpions who through
sheer force of personality managed to push his way to the front of the baying crowd of
Astartes. Resting his hands upon the two former Elder blades which earned him his name he
bowed his head. "I say we do not sully our blades on the swine my Lord-Prince... Let us find
some menials to deal with these pests for us... Perhaps we could attempt to find a force of
the Son's of Horus or even my own former Legion and impress them into our services as
cannon fodder...?"

"An excellent suggestion Jotun! Excellent! Neb! Have your pet witch born find me a suitable
source of... What did you call them Jotun, yes, cannon-fodder!" Lucius smiled broadly in a
way that twisted the horrific scars across his face into a mask of suffering. "Cannon fodder.
Yes. We can always use more cannon fodder! Perhaps if a few of them survive we can recruit
them into My new Legion of the Blade Masters!"

As Nebrillion the sorcerer hurried from the room he attempted to ignore how the laughter
echoing from the Court behind him sounded less and less like the laughter of Astartes and
more and more like the baying of madmen...
Night Lord Battle Barge Silent Scream
Un-named System
Fringes of the Ghoul Stars

The various Captains and assorted Champions who were leading the warbands and
companies that remained with the fleet led by The Raven had assembled to meet aboard
the flagship the Silent Scream. Or most of them had. A handful seemed to be missing.
Tellingly they were the Astartes who had been the most vocal in abandoning or
overthrowing the former Raven Guard commander. It seemed that The Raven had
"forgotten" to invite them along to this command conference. A petty act and one that
would do him little long term good seemed to be the mood of the gathered Night Lords as
at the end of the day the missing officers would find out about the meeting and it would
only inflame their anger at being commanded by a turncoat former Loyalist. This slight
would not be ignored.

"He's a fool as well as a mute if he thinks that Ntallan doesn't know about this meeting... It
wouldn't surprise me if he attacks the Silent Scream within the hour of finding out..."
Captain Gargal of the 9th Reaver Company opinioned quietly to his fellows. "Hopefully he'll
at least wait till the rest of us have returned to our own ships..."

"It seems a poorly thought out move I grant you..." Chief Vespal of the Crimson Knives
agreed. "Not up to his usual standards of intrigue and cunning. Still everyone makes a
mistake occasionally."

"Well this one is likely to be fatal. The mute's managed to single out every single Night Lord
officer who hates him by not inviting them. They'll unite against him and bring him down...
You mark my words. This time he's screwed up. By tomorrow we'll have a new leader." The
hissing laugh of the officer known now as the Harpy burbled over the steam hissing from
his jump jets. He hunched over like a beast on all fours as he spoke with his fellows while his
former lightning claws raked the decks beneath him. Once a renowned Raptor commander
the years of mutation had turned his armour into his skin and his weapons into talons.

Before the conversation could go any further the doors opened and The Raven strode into
the room with a handful of his command squad behind him. As he reached the gathered
officers of "his" fleet he smiled crookedly and nodded to his squad... Who proceeded to
dump down a dozen heads onto the floor. Each head had once belonged to a Night Lord
officer who had questioned Alastor Rushal's commands one too many times and who
everyone had presumed had not been invited to the command conference. In the combat-
sign language that he had developed The Raven "spoke". "These officers seemed to lose
their way en-route to the meeting. A Battleship can be a dangerous place for the unwary. A
terrible loss brothers. We must all be more vigilant of losing our way in the future..."
Son's of Horus Battleship Warmaster's Triumph
Anvilus IX
Horusite Empire

As one of the premier Forge Worlds within the Horusite Empire Anvilus IX was heavily
guarded. Mass formations of Dark Mechanicum forces including it's own Traitor Titan
Legion the Anvil's of Horus backed up by legions of Skitarii, Legio Cybernetica forces and
Traitor Knight Houses guarded the world while the defences had been reinforced with three
companies of Astartes. A single company of the Emperor's own Praetorian Legion the Son's
of Horus took pride of place and had overall command of the defences, yet they were
augmented by a full company of Word Bearers and an under strength company of War
Hounds. No fewer than 2,700 Astartes helped secure the production of the vital Land
Raiders for the Horusite Empire. They had also been informed recently that they were to
recieve additional reinforcements in the near future. Those amongst the Astartes who
enjoyed gambling were busy wagering on which Legion's troops would be sent to bolster
the defences. The betting was running heavily in favour of the Iron Warriors Legion.

Nor were the orbital defences neglected. As well as a full array of mines, defence satellites
and orbital fortresses a veritable fleet of Dark Mechanicum and Horusite Navy ships were
deployed to protect the vital world. A full eight huge Battleships took pride of place, backed
up by Battle cruisers, Grand Cruisers, Heavy and Light Cruiser squadrons and large numbers
of lesser vessels. Wings of bombers and fighters were housed within not only the ships but
in armoured hangers in the heavy orbital fortresses as well. Any attacker who attempted to
make planet fall would have to fight their way through an incredible array of firepower.

Yet no planet can be too well defended. So when the scanners detected an incoming fleet
of Alpha Legion warships the defenders greeted them over the vox warmly one their
credentials had been checked out as well as their intent to reinforce the defences
ascertained. While the reputation of the Alpha Legion amongst those loyal to Horus had
been somewhat diminished in recent years due to their absence from the battle lines with
the Corpse-Emperor's Loyalists, most still remembered their work in preparing the way for
the drive upon Terra and indeed their involvement in the Drop Site Massacre. Judging by
the fleet of heavy Battleships and support vessels no fewer than 10,000 Alpha Legionnaires
were possibly approaching orbit. A massive boost to the already formidable defences of the
Forge World which would make it immune to anything short of a full Primarch led Legion
assault. Also a massive boost to fortunes off the few warriors who had bet upon the
reinforcements being warriors of the XXth Legion.

A welcome reception was laid out upon the flight deck of the Son's of Horus Battleship the
Warmaster's Triumph. A full honour guard of 400 Astartes were formed up in ranks as a
flight of 6 Stormbird gunships carried the command cadre of the incoming Alpha Legion
over to greet their brother Astartes. Captain Boros Kurn stood with his command squad in
gleaming battle plate eager to welcome the new arrivals and ensure his own continued
command of the planet. After all even if they now outnumbered his own formations he was
still a captain in the Emperor's own Legion and so the default commander! The spectacle he
was putting on and in welcoming them aboard his new flagship was all part of the game he
was playing to ensure that he would continue to rule Anvilus IX... In the Emperor's name of
course. It would be hard for any spineless warrior from the shadows to deny him his
command rights when standing on his own embarkation deck and under the eyes of so
many of his own Legion's warriors.

The Stormbirds landed in perfect formation and their ramps came down in perfect
synchronisation. For assassins and backstabbers the Alpha Legion made a good show off
their arrival, their warriors striding forth in lock step to take up formations under their
gunships noses. Kurn had to keep a sneer from his face at the total lack of adornment of
their armour, no way to tell officer from warrior at all. Still one of them strode out of the
serried ranks and un-clipped his helmet to present his face to his new superior officer. Like
all the Alpha Legionnaires Kurn had met he looked almost identical. A meaningless quirk of
their Legion. No doubt he'd claim to be Alpharius. They all did. Still best to observe the
niceties. "I am Captain Boros Kurn, 16th Independent Company, Lord-Commnder of Anvilus
IX. Welcome to my command brothers!"

The bald headed warrior nodded slightly. "I am the Alpha and the Omega."

For a few seconds Kurn waited for something else. Some rank or information as to which
formation was arriving. Yet as the pause lengthened he frowned. "That's it? That's all you
have to tell me? What is your command rank? What companies or chapter do you
command? That is worse than meaningless!"

Alpha and Omega smiled slightly and inclined his head a fraction in acknowledgement.
Then without warning as Kurn visibly struggled to hold his temper he drew his bolt pistol
and put three banestrike rounds into the centre of the Son's of Horus Astarte's chest plate
and then a fourth into his skull as he fell. All around the embarkation deck came the roar of
heavy weapons as the Stormbird's opened up in support of the Alpha Legionnaires
clustered under them. Massed bolter fire tore into the parade ground formations of Son's of
Horus warriors, while the twin linked heavy bolters and lascannon of the gunships burned
down entire squads as the shocked Astartes attempted to seek cover and return fire. Keying
his augmented vox system Alpha and Omega ignored the gunfight blazing around him and
sent a single word not only to his ships but also to the human operatives who had been
infiltrating this world for over a decade. "Begin."
Even as the order went out squads of Alpha Legionnaires were beginning to move forward
under the cover of their fellows, much of the resistance within the landing bay already dealt
with. Within minutes they were well on the way to seizing control of the vital parts of the
former flagship of the late Captain Boros Kurn.
Gregor's City
Utarex Prime
Imperial Secondus

The scream of death cries warred with the roar of battle cries as the XIIth Legion, restored to
their proper name of the War Hounds, went to war. Warriors in blue and white or red
charged screaming into the gunfire of warriors in cobalt blue and gold, wading into the
disciplined fire with the blood lust of the Nail's screaming in their heads. Again and again
defences which should have stopped the tide of screaming berserker's dead in their tracks
instead split and were breached. Organised fire teams of Ultramarines and their Imperial
Army allies fell back in disciplined staged withdrawals when they could, but often these
planned retreats were turned into blood disorganised battles as the War Hounds overtook
them. With chain axe and bolt pistol the blood mad warrior's of the XIIth Legion threw
themselves forward, heedless of casualties or loss ratios. Such things were for lesser
warriors, lesser men. With the Nails burning through their minds all they could think off was
death and killing. All around them the city burned and died, yet for them there was only the
glory of battle and war!

Leading the way was none other than their own Legion Master, Kharn the Betrayer. Tasked
with seizing the key logistical node of Utarex Prime by First Captain Abbadon he had been
dispatched from the main body of the Black Crusade with his own 2,000 War Hounds and a
similar number off "Priests" as everyone within the Crusade was referring to the warriors of
the Word Bearer Legion now. His orders had been to take the world as quickly as possible
and move onto the next rendezvous with the main force. Which he had translated into a full
on assault with everyone of his Hounds. As he smashed an armoured fist into the chest
plate of an Ultramarine sergeant sending him reeling back far enough to bring down his
huge chain axe Gorechild onto the weak point between the helmet and the gorget hard
enough to smash through and turn his former brother's chest into a fountain of gore and
blood Kharn roared his triumph and looked around for another enemy to fight. Acidic drool
hissed as it dripped slowly from his lips inside his helmet as he cast around for another skull
to take, yet the last of this squad of Ultramarines were dead around him either from his own
weapons or those of his "command squad". Which consisted of amongst the most far gone
lunatics in the Legion outside of the handful of the Red Butcher's who were still alive to fight
and kill. One of his own command squad took a step towards him hefting the chain axe in
his hand with a slight hesitation but backed down at a wordless snarl from his leader. The
cur knew the Alpha Hound in this squad even so gone into the blood rage. Reminded of
what giving into the Nail's completely would bring Kharn forced a semblance of thought
back into his mind before growling into the vox. "Captains. Report."
Kharn had divided the Legion contingent into 3 roughly equal companies of 600 Astartes
each under the command of an experienced Captain with the remaining 200 or so mostly
consisting of those too far gone to recognise any real ranks or command structure and
inducted into the Red Butchers and a handful of specialists. Every single warrior that he had
brought along with him was implanted with the Nails with the exception of those specialists.
Even in this he was purging his Legion of those who were destroying it. Or at least reducing
them from the majority to a specialised assault force. Yet off the 3 Captains on the
command channel only two responded. The first to respond Captain Umbragg of the 44th
Assault Company merely replied with a scream demanding blood and dead, at least until
Kharn cut him from the command channel. The other officer Captain Relan replied in a
growl, but at least his words were legible and not merely mindless drivel. "Captain Delsa is
dead. I saw him die. He killed a XIIIth Legion Dreadnought with a melta grenade but it tore
him apart before he could jump clear. Umbragg is... Gone... His company are scattered and
chasing after anything in blue. Casualties are high. You are at the point of my own company
Legion Master. I thought you gone for a time."

"I was. I... Returned." Both officers knew how difficult it was to master the demands of the
Nails when battle raged around them. Kharn dismissed the reports of casualties. Every
legionnaire he had brought with him on this Black Crusade was already dead. "And our
allies?"

"Following us. I think. At least I can hear some heavy weapons firing in support. I presume
that is them." Both officers laughed cruelly at the very thought that any War Hound would
be carrying a heavy weapon in this sort of city fighting. "Your orders Legion Master?"

"Press on towards my position. Try and shepherd any of the Butchers or the other
companies men towards the enemy if you can. I will gather as many as I can here and deny
the Ultramarines the chance to break contact. Stay on their heels Captain. We lost enough
fighting our way through that firestorm, I won't give them a chance to prepare another
one!" Kharn snarled before cutting the link and keying his helmet to broadcast his voice
through the amplifiers at maximum. "WAR HOUNDS! ON ME! BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD
GOD! SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE! FORWARD! CHARGE!"

As he began to lope forward towards the retreating lines of the Ultramarines Kharn could
hear the war cries be taken up all around him and from side streets and buildings warriors in
the white and blue or red and brass of his Legion began to trickle out to join his charge.
Iron Hand's Strike Cruiser Iron Hammer of Medusa
Bellason System
Imperial Secondus

Falling back during a shipboard action was never a thing of grace. Sergeant Skal Talat was
slowly withdrawing down the corridor towards the engine rooms, falling back a step at a
time under the heavy cover of his breacher shield while firing back with aimed fire at the
Traitors of the Night Lord's Legion with his bolter while his two surviving squad mates fired
carefully past him in covering fire. Finally his metallic footsteps reached the hatchway and
stepped through, allowing Iron Father Elonar Rakkan to hit close the heavy armour plated
hatch and buy them some time. Judging by the almost instantly increase in heat in the top
right hand corner of the armoured hatch not much time either. The son's of the Night
Haunter might be treacherous scum, but few could argue that they didn't understand the
need for speed in a boarding action. Again and again since their boarding torpedo's
smashed through the armoured hull of the Iron Hammer they had moved forward with
speed and skill that had overwhelmed any attempt to throw them back. By now the Strike
Cruiser was cut in half, with Sergeant Xelan's squad holding the bridge and his own holding
the engines. They were cut off from each other and indeed were no longer even in contact
with each other due to the jamming efforts of the Night Lords.

Skal glanced at the Iron Father and said what they were all thinking. "There are too many off
them Father. By last account nearly 50 of them are aboard and loose. I don't know how
many warriors Xelan still has, but including both of us there are a mere 4 Astartes to hold
the engine rooms. We cannot save the ship."

The young warrior Kelal fresh from Medusa spoke up with fury in his voice as he reloaded
shells into his bolt pistol. "We cannot allow them to take the Iron Hammer! It would be a
shame that Clan Felg would never live down!"

Turning a single true eye to face Kelal who's iron hand had a bare silver glow in comparison
to his own burning silver hands the Sergeant spoke as though to an idiot. "I did not say that
they will take the ship boy."

By now the hatch was visibly glowing and the Iron Hand warriors fell back to the very doors
to the engine room to turn the corridor into a firing range. Ignoring the young fool Skal
spoke quietly to the Iron Father. "How long do you need?"

"At least another ten minutes. I had begun preparations as soon as I heard we were being
boarded. Just in case." The Iron Father was already turning away from the remaining 3 of his
brothers to finish his work, pausing only long enough to clasp hands with the Sergeant who
he had known since before the Heresy.

"I don't understand..." Kelal said with a great deal more diffidence in his voice. Having a
veteran warrior who had survived the Dropsite Massacre speak to him in such a tone had
been unpleasant to say the least and had shocked him out of his fury.

"As you said Kelal, we cannot allow them to take the ship. The Iron Father has begun
preparations to detonate the engines and fuel tanks and destroy the Iron Hammer. At the
very least we will take dozen's of Traitors with us into death." The hatch began to bubble
and melt, sagging inwards as the sergeant explained, taking up position behind his breacher
shield as his two surviving squad mates took cover at the sides of the door. "We will buy
him the time he needs to finish his work... And then we will go to our Father to continue our
battles at his side in the Warp. In the Emperor's Name!"

As the hatch gave way and the first Night Lord's came bounding through the hole they had
torn and straight into a hail of fire they were also greeted by the fanatics of the Iron Hand's
Legion roaring out their devotions to the Corpse God through their armour's speakers as
they poured bolt shells down the corridor at them, turning the first half a dozen warriors of
the XIIIth into shredded meat and armour... The Night Lord Astartes, no fools had figured
out what was the likely outcome if they didn't overwhelm the defences fast and so threw
themselves into the fire with a recklessness that was unusual for their Legion. The zealots of
the Corpse God were stupid enough to kill them all rather than admit defeat!

Unfortunately for the Night Lords, of whom 37 were still alive and on board at the time, they
were just seconds too late having been delayed just long enough by the warriors of Skal
Talat's squad. As well as killing 11 Night Lord's at the choke point, the last 2 of whom were
killed by the last survivor Kelal with a grenade as he lay dying himself, they had bought just
enough time for the Iron Father to overload the engines and send a surge of power into the
heavily armoured fuel tanks. Even as he fell under a shower of bolter fire the Iron Father
lived just long enough to see the beginnings of the explosions which would destroy the
proud vessel the Iron Hammer of Medusa and over half the remaining Astartes of the Night
Lord Strike Cruiser Ebony Blade.
Again this is a draft, so if anyone thinks the numbers are off or I'm forgetting a
battle/campaign please let me know!

Imperial Secondus:

Ultramarine Legion: 180,000 Marines - Huge numbers of Astartes are now coming to
maturity throughout Ultramar and indeed the wider Imperial Secondus, however ongoing
campaigns against Mortarion and the Black Crusade as well as the constant attrition all
along the Horusite border have led to a small fall in Ultramarines. However there are more
Chapters than at the last tally, they are however mostly operating at lower strengths than
had been intended - mostly around 60-70% strength. In response the support structure of
the Legion has been expanded again.

Raven Guard Legion: 7,000 Marines - while the Raven Guard continue to fight their
replacements have finally began to outstrip their losses, helped by their specialisation in
infiltration and not pitched battles. The main force of the Legion is divided between a
vengeance fleet led by Lord Corax and scattered squads and demi-companies along the
front lines.

Raven Guard Raptors: 1,000 - new Raptors have matured and their losses have so far been
minimal. Another batch is approach maturity and 3 more groups have been implanted. So
far they have been mostly kept in reserve with the intent to deploy them "en mass".

Salamander Legion: 8,000 Marines - replacements continue to increase the strength of the
Legion with more and more aspirants being implanted with gene-seed. The Legion is now
without a doubt the best equipped Legion within not only the Loyalist factions but also the
Traitors. With so many Astartes deployed around industrial sites they have the pick of the
equipment being produced which they then often personalise and upgrade using their own
formidable skills. The Legion's Tech-Marines known as Forgefathers are growing in numbers
even faster than the rest of the Legion.

Space Wolf Legion: 15,000 Marines - Losses have mounted in advance of aspirants from
Fenris due to the increase in tempo of combat along all fronts. Leman Russ has again
resisted calls to accept non-Fenrisian's into his service and has pointed to the massive
project to increase Fenris's production of aspirants. The addition of a number of Thousand
Son's warships have allowed the Rout to at least cycle their most heavily damaged ships
back for repair and refit within Imperial Secondus.

Iron Hands Legion: 2,000 Marines - the Legion still suffers from a lack of gene-seed and is
barely keeping pace with losses which is not helped by their total commitment to the war
with the Traitors. Refusing all offers for the Legion to withdraw and attempt to rebuild, the
ships and Astartes of the Iron Hands remain constantly on the front lines. They are now at
least fully equipped, although a number of ships have had only cursory refits before
returning to the front lines rather than the full rebuilds recommended.

True Dark Angels Legion: 1,100 Marines - almost entirely Terran born Astartes the few
aspirants have not kept pace with losses both from combat and also a number of them have
defected to parts unknown.

Thousand Sons Legion (Loyalist): under 600 Marines, a massive effort on the part of Imperial
Secondus to expand the Legion via the implantation of gene-seed in promising pskyer
candidates drawn from all across Loyalist space has helped to double the strength of this
Legion, with more aspirants in training under Magnus's own tutelage. Almost all Thousand
Sons are now considered on par with the Librarian's of other Legions.

Iron Skulls Cohort: around 300 Marines - a handful of aspirants also in training but a lack of
gene-seed is causing efforts to expand this force to falter, they have been deployed in
penny packets across Imperial Secondus and even beyond and a number of fast destroyers
have been made available to them to allow them to respond to deployment requests. Gifts
from the Imperial Fists and production from Imperial Secondus has made them the only
force to even come close to rivalling the equipment levels of the Salamander Legion.
Perhaps due to the scarcity of gene-seed a culture of reverence for the handful of
apothecaries is developing.

Imperial Armies: 62 – while the Imperial Army has continued to take heavy losses the sheer
number of recruits pouring in has more than matched this. The production of the Plasma
carbine has now reached a point where ordinary formations are beginning to see at least
some issued in reasonable numbers.

Shock Armies: 7 with 4 forming. The 1st Shock Army has now reached full strength with
veterans drawn from all over Imperial Secondus. The 2nd and 3rd are fully operational with
another 4 armies also formed up and ready for deployment as required although still
undergoing training. An additional 4 Shock Armies are in various processes of being formed
up.

Titan Legions: 10 - Titan production still lags behind other increases in industrial output, but
Lord Vulkan has made it a priority to increase Titan numbers.

Imperial Fleets: 3 - with 1 more forming

Legion Fleets: 4 – 2 Ultramarine Fleets, 1 Thousand Sons Fleet (currently attached to various
other Legions) and 1 Space Wolf Fleet along with smaller numbers of allied Legion ships. A
growing number of Strike Cruisers are being allocated the to Raven Guard and Iron Hands
Legions, many of them specially designed to suit their respective warfare styles, while a
number of heavier Battleships earmarked for the Salamander Legion.

Rogal Dorn’s Remnant:

Imperial Fist Legion: 48,000 Marines - standing on the defensive has allowed the Imperial
Fists to continue to expand. A large number of the new Astartes have been earmarked for
the newly formed Black Templar Chapter which is to be the offensive arm of the Imperial
Fists. A major push has also been made to increase the number of Dreadnought chassis
available to the Legion. Aspirant numbers have continued to rise and indeed Lord Dorn has
had his severed hands flesh entirely removed and it's genetic material donated to create a
new wave of aspirants. Indications are that he intends to form a new Chapter with these
aspirants.
Blood Angels Legion: 19,000 Marines - efforts continue to expand the Legion drawing
recruits primarily from Baal but also surrounding worlds. Losses from the Blood Angel's
chosen assault speciality continue to mount but new Astartes numbers are more than
keeping pace. They have also benefited from the Imperial Fist's increase in Dreadnought
chassis and a growing number of fallen warriors are returning to the fight. Consideration is
being given to expanding the Legion's fief to not only include the Baal system but also a
number of surrounding systems to expand their recruitment base.

Iron Hands Legion: 1500 Marines - a steady supply of replacements from Medusa have
continued to arrive to rejoin the Legion. Fully 1/3rd of this force are now equipped with
Terminator armour.

Custodes: 1900 Custodes - rumours are that new Custodes will soon begin to arrive.

Imperial Armies: 14 - Although recruitment is up numbers of Imperial Armies have actually

fallen as more are transitioned to Shock Armies and new formations are routed to form new
Shock Armies rather than Imperial Armies. Plans do exist to expand the Imperial Armies
again as a defensive formation.

Shock Armies: 10 and 2 more forming - 8 former Imperial Armies and 2 entirely new
formations now ready for deployment. Lord Dorn has prioritised Shock formations as well as
outfitting the new Shock Armies with a wide variety of heavy armour for maximum effect.
Given the size of the new Shock Armies and their deployment most expect a major offensive
soon.

Titan Legions: 39 – while few new formations have been formed many have received new
Titans particularly of heavier types.

Imperial Fleets: 4 - again although no new formations have been formed or planned two of
the Imperial Fleets loyal to the Remnant have been heavily reinforced with ships, particularly
new Battleships.

Legion Fleets: 3 – 2 Imperial Fist and 1 Blood Angel Fleet along with a small number of Iron
Hands ships. The Iron Hand's are no longer receiving new ships as they do not have the
Astartes to man them with new production mostly being of Battleships for the Imperial Fist
and Blood Angel fleets.

Dark Angels/Caliban Fiefs

Lion's Guard: 2000 Marines, fleet based and seeking for the Lion. An under strength fleet (all
that's left of the two royal fleets) is their main base. Rumours indicate they are slowly
heading towards Terra.

Penitent Son's: Unknown, no more than 1000 Marines

Various Dark Angels Cohorts within the Fiefs: Estimated 19,000 Marines, split into Cohorts,
Chapters, Knight Orders, Wings, Companies and even Squads. Officially still unified no force
larger than 4,000 is actually existing. Ongoing warfare with the Night Lords infesting the
Caliban Fiefs is a steady drain of Astartes. Still recruiting from the various worlds of the Fiefs
continues to make good those losses - where the Dark Angels are beginning to struggle is
to replace the more advanced equipment. Ships, Dreadnoughts, Armoured vehicles beyond
basic ones are more and more in short supply. Almost no Titans remain within the Fiefs, the
few survivors having fled for the Remnant or Secondus. More and more of the equipment
used by the Dark Angels Cohorts is basic weaponry or knock off versions of more advanced
types that are not as reliable or of as high quality. Some feelers have been sent to other
Loyalist factions with offers of trade for more advanced weapons and ships. These have
been refused.

The Khan’s Forces

White Scars Legion: 23,000 Marines - replacements from Chogoris and Secondus are
outstripping losses, particularly due to the Khan's fighting style of hit and run while avoiding
being drawn into prolonged engagements. The shortage of Jet bikes has finally begun to be
addressed with new vehicles arriving in small but growing numbers.

Imperial Armies: 3 – These Armies are now a mix between mechanised and Shock Army
formations, with up to 60-70% now equipped with plasma carbines. The veteran troops of
these formations are the equal of any standard human troops although the recruits tend
towards very basic levels of training before their first combat.

Titan Legions: 2 - with 1 forming – mostly consisting of Warhound class machines and
Reavers for support. The new formation currently is exclusively Warhound class machines.

Legion Fleets: 2 - now officially returned to 2 fleets, the White Scar's fleets still remain short
on heavier ships. The Imperial Remnant has been the primary source of what few heavier
vessels that have been added to the Khan's fleet.

Sisters of Silences Strength: Unknown but believed to be several thousands and

expanding more and more obviously.
Carcharodon's Astra Strength: 5,900 Astartes - a strong force of veteran providing the
backbone to this force with a small number of aspirants slowly rising up to join them.
Equipment levels are basic with most Astartes equipped with a basic gladius/bolter
combination, with a severe shortage of heavy weapons and armour. Vehicles and
Dreadnoughts are in short supply with the exclusion of the Rhino APC. The one area where
the various Carcharodon's still have advanced weapons is in the areas of close combat
weaponry but even these are in gradually decreasing numbers. Terminator armour and the
more advanced marks of power armour are also rare, with many of the suits showing signs
of repair and local replacement parts.

Imperial Armies: Unknown although the former Raven Guard Nomad-Predation fleets were
known to have attached Imperial Army forces of up to Division sized.

Titan Legions: Unknown although a single Titan battle group had been previously attached
to the Xeric Tribes Chapter.

Legion Fleet: 1 - under strength fleet formed up into battle groups in support of the various
Chapters and companies.

Traitor Forces

Horus Empire:

Son’s of Horus Legion: 80,000 Marines - although a large number of new Astartes have
joined the ranks of what is more and more being referred to as the Emperor's Praetorians,
the Son's of Horus have actually lost strength through the formation of the Black Crusade
and in losses along all fronts. Replacement equipment is just matching requirements but
with little or no surplus at the current time. Astartes who are being advanced through the
methods of the former Gene-Surgeon are showing more and more mental degradation and
are now almost exclusively ear marked for assault companies. More and more Son's of
Horus are also becoming lost to demonic possession, to the extent that a number of
Captains have begun to attempt to discourage the practise. Even with losses the number of
aspirants who are in the pipeline to join the Legion has continued to increase promising a
return to large numbers, indeed this has been bolstered by a new facility for producing
Astartes now approaching completion on the Lunar surface.

Death Guard Legion: 14,000 Marines - still working with the Horus Empire, although still not
trusted the Emperor's gift of these troops to the cloned Primarch Mortaris has somewhat
stemmed the flow of desertions. On Barbarus long neglected Legion facilities for the
creation of new Death Guard are returning to use.

Iron Warriors Legion: 31,000 Marines - A slow increase in numbers is continuing, although
when the Lord of Iron's projects on Mars come to fruition a huge increase in strength of the
Iron Warriors is expected. Including a large increase in the number of Warpsmiths. The Iron
Warriors are showing almost no signs of the shortages of weaponry and armour that other
Horusite formations are suffering from and indeed a number of exotic and rare weapons are
appearing within their ranks.

Word Bearers Legion: 22,000 Marines - a slow increase in numbers has been totally offset
with almost half of the Word Bearers within the Horusite Empire having been dispatched
upon the Black Crusade. A large number of the remaining Astartes have begun to head
towards Colchis responding to rumours of their Primarch's return.

Thousand Sons Legion: 900 Marines - The Thousand Son's Legion took heavy losses during
the events which led to the Black Crusade being formed and have yet to recover from these
losses. Few suitable aspirants are being found, with many of those who might be suitable
being instead inducted into the Son's of Horus to rebuild their own sorcerers/librarian
numbers. With their Legion Master in exile there is no loud voice within the Lupercal's Court
to speak up for more aspirants.

War Hounds Legion: 9,000 Marines - a major effort to increase the Empire's chosen assault
troops has resulted in increased numbers of War Hounds even in the face of a large force
being dispatched upon the Black Crusade under their Legion Master.

Alpha Legion: 1,000 Marines – that Horus knows of operating within the Empire technically
under his orders although he suspects they are no longer following them. Suspicions are
begining to mount that the Alpha Legion is no longer allied to the Horusite Empire in
practise.

Demi Troopers: 240,000 estimated, of which the vast bulk are "horusite". Equipment levels
for these troops have went from bad to worse. While the latest generation of Demi's have
swelled the ranks to almost a quarter of a million these will be the last new additions for
some time until the various facilities damaged by the Word Bearers can be rebuilt and new
Demi's created and trained.

Horusite Armies: 68 – as soon as the reality of the situation regarding the Demi troopers
was known a huge effort to conscript ordinary humans was made. These new conscript
formations are barely coherent and have almost no equipment or training beyond the most
basic. Rumours abound of multiple troopers sharing a lasgun, but these are denied. A
handful of experienced formations remain fully combat effective and on a par with the
Imperial Army.
Titan Legions: 51 – rebuilding was totally halted for a prolonged period of time, but rumours
abound that entire new Titan Legions are now under construction on Mars.

Horusite Fleets: 5 – the number of damaged ships awaiting repair continues to escalate and
concerns are mounting that the backlog will soon be so great that nearly 40% of the
Horusite Fleets will be dockyard queens or mothballed. Perturabo has promised to rectify
the situation.

Legion Fleets: 4 – 1 each of the Son’s of Horus, Word Bearers, Iron Warriors and Thousand
Sons. Attempts to rebuild the War Hound's fleet have been abandoned and instead priority
has been given to repairing those ships damaged in the fighting over Terra. The handful of
ships that had been produced have either been granted to the Son's of Horus or Iron
Warriors Legions or sent with the Black Crusade

Black Crusade Strength: 20,000 Son's of Horus, 300 Thousand Sons, 2,000 War Hounds,
3,000 Iron Warriors, 100 Death Guard, 200 Night Lords, 20,000 Word Bearers and a handful
of Alpha Legions and other Astartes. Along with 60,000 Demi's, 4-6 Horusite Armies/Word
Bearer Thrall Armies and around a Titan Legion of assorted battle groups. A full fleet
escorting them. Please note these numbers are at the launch of the Black Crusade and the
numbers are likely to no longer be accurate. For instance the Word Bearer Legion is
reported to have suffered heavy casualties on Badab.

Scattered Legions

Scattered World Eater’s Legion: 2,000 Marines - none acting under Legion control, most
slowly moving towards the Eye of Terror. Losses have been partially replaced by a small
number of new aspirants and defections from the Horusite Empire. All are embedded with
Nails.

Emperor’s Children Legion: 3,000 Marines (estimated) - totally splintered and no longer
even attempting to work together. Even the Legion's sworn to the other Gods have started
to turn upon the worshippers of Slaanesh. Losses have continued to mount and most are
now based within the Eye of Terror.

Principality of Blades: 1,500 Marines - mostly hunting around the edges but slowly trying to
rebuild or recruit. A few documented cases of non-Emperor's children joining the
Principality as long as they worship Slaanesh. Some reports are that the Principality has
started to fall apart and scatter.

Night Lord Legions: Unknown. Estimated to be 20-30,000, now estimated to be at the lower
end of that spectrum after losses around and on Badab and in the Ghoul Stars, scattered in
groups ranging from squad to chapter size. Concentrations remain in the border regions
between Imperial and Horusite space, Caliban and Nostramo sectors and the Ghoul Stars.

None of the above forces have any formal "Fleet" or support forces, although they will often
have ad hoc mortal supporters and slaves, while remaining mobile on their few remaining
warships. Only the Night Lords remain any real fleet numbers and these are scattered.

The Hydra:

Alpha Legion: Unknown, no estimate possible

Thrall Armies: 7+ estimated

Titan Legions: 5 - estimated

Legion Fleets: 2 – both operating independently of each other. Unknown losses or

replacements.

The Plague upon Mankind/Realm of New Barbarus

Deaths' Guard Legion: 60,000 Marines (estimated) - Organised into 7 armies of provisionally
10,000 Astartes each, unknown how many Plague Marines remain within the Eye of Terror
but estimates are low. The Legion is suffering heavy casualties in it's wars within the
Ultramar region. Almost all formations are operating under strength.

Iron Warriors Legion: Unknown. A handful of known Iron Warriors having been sighted,
however they are now indistinguishable from other Plague Marines. It is estimated that each
Army includes a small number of Iron Warriors as heavy weapons troopers and siege
specialists.

Thrall Armies: 14 - each army of Astartes has 2 Thrall Armies attached.

Titan Legions: 2 - broken up into individual battle groups to support the Armies of New
Barbarus.

Legion Fleets: 7 - a huge number of new ships having been built, although their pitted and
rusted appearances makes it hard to believe the new ships are indeed freshly built. Each
Army has a fleet attached. The ship types are dominated by large and slow cruisers, backing
up small numbers of battleships and battle barges.
The Red Kings Blood Crusade

World Eater’s Legion: 2-4,000 Marines (estimated) - organised mostly into war bands. All
assault marines and implanted with the Nails.

Thrall Armies: 1

Legion Fleets: No formal fleet but a wide variety of various warships and classes with little or
no organisation formed up around the Conqueror.
Colchis
Horusite Empire

As he stepped through the tear in reality on the far side of the planet from the capital of
Vharadesh "Jarulek" instantly realised he had made a terrible mistake. The former Blood
Angel Captain Kylaen instantly sensed the change in the very fabric of the Warp energies
pouring over Colchis. A Primarch was here. Given the nature of the planet it could only really
be one. The Urizen. As fast as thought he attempted to dive back into the Warp, yet his
presence had already been noted by the Traitor Daemon-Primarch and the Way was closed
to him. Even as he began to cast around for another weak point to attempt to escape
through the Urizen himself was there before him glowing with a false golden light while
around him blinked dozens of his treacherous sons as they were dragged through their
fathers willpower across half a planet between one heart beat and the next. Lorgar Aurelian
roared his fury and threw out bonds of pure willpower to pin Kylaen within his stolen body
and to prevent him making any further attempts to flee into the Warp. "TRAITOR!"

"Jarulek my lord? He is one of us!" A Dark Acolyte lisped from lips which were slit at the
sides to make a manic death grin, voicing the confusion that the Word Bearers felt at their
Lord's fury.

"That is not Jarulek! That is one of the Angel's son's possessing Jarulek's body! The weak
willed fool must have been tricked into letting the Vampire into his body!" Lorgar roared
and with a casual buffet from his bare hand smashed Kylaen's stolen body a dozen feet
through the air to land with a fractured skull. Before he could even begin to get up Lorgar
was there picking him up by the neck in a grip that warped and snapped the gorget of the
power armour of the possessed Word Bearer. "Which one of my brothers vampiric spirits are
you?!"

If Lorgar or his son's had expected pleas of denial they were no doubt shocked by the
response from the Angel of the Emperor. A deep and genuine booming laugh echoed from
Jarulek's throat as the Blood Angel spirit cast his defiance into the very faces of the Traitors.
"I am Captain Kylaen of the Blood Angel's Legion... Know my name and know that I have
killed more Traitors than you can imagine! My death tally dwarfs you and your entire
Legion's at the Dropsite Massacre Daemon lack-spittle of False Gods! I damn you Lorgar
Aurelian as False Son and Traitor and I damn your Legion of curs and mad dogs!"

Screaming in rage Lorgar gripped the possessed body of his son and brought it down
harshly across his knee, snapping its spine and splintering it's reinforced rib-cage into
dozens of broken shards. Dropping the broken body the enraged Daemon-Primarch drew
out a black bladed athame and hissed in fury at the flopping figure at his feet. "Do not think
that you will escape me Vampire... I will cut you from my son's flesh and then tear your very
soul apart... I will give you the Final Death... But only after I have squeezed out every drop of
suffering and pain that it is within my powers to inflict upon your very soul... You will scream
and beg for the End and for the False-God's mercy... Only when your soul is a broken and
pitiful thing that knows only pain and suffering will I finally destroy you..."

"No. You. Will. Not."

Colchis
Horusite Empire

Looking up from the shattered body possessed by the Blood Angel Kylaen Lorgar's face
contorted from a visage of fury to one of enraged fury and hate, while his son's raised bolter
pistols and other weapons in shock at the new arrival. "You do not command me Sigillite!
Not now! Not ever! You are dead just like your pathetic Corpse-God! This is MY world! You
have no power here! Begone! I banish you!"

The Angel who had once been Malcador the Sigillite leaned on his golden staff and sighed
with disappointment at Lorgar as a warm but faint glow of golden warp energy emanated
from him. All of the Word Bearer's in it's Light for a brief instance saw themselves as they
had truly become rather than as they believed themselves to be, yet that single second of
self hate and doubt was all their twisted natures would allow them before they turned away
from the Light. As they crouched back from his Light around their father the Sigillite spoke
quietly. "You were always wilfully blind. It is disappointing to see you still clinging to your
false truths. Even now you are blind to that which is right before you. You cannot banish me
False Son."

Lorgar stood over the shattered body and from nowhere a sword of pure darkness and spite
appeared in his hand shaped as a a heavy bastard sword with cruel barbs along its blade.
"Colchis is my world! Here I am the Master! I can banish you or even destroy you shade!"

"Lorgar... I was there at your creation. I was there when you and your brothers were created
by your Father. I am bound to each and every one off you in a way that not even your
twisted rites and practises can break. I can appear to any and all of you if I so wish. Some
are harder than others I admit, but appearing to you is child's play for all your wards and
incantations." Malcador didn't even ready himself for an attack just staring at the enraged
Daemon-Primarch with sad and pity filled eyes. "You are the weakest of all your brothers.
You could not banish me on your best day and upon my worst. If I so wished I could destroy
your mortal shell with a thought, even here upon your home world. The only reason I don't
is that it would take too much power to achieve and I must preserve that power to face
more worthy foes..."

The Truth burning in the words of the First Angel struck Lorgar like a lash of a crop to the
face, having him scream in fury and point his black blade at the glowing figure of the
Emperor's Friend. "Perhaps you are bound to us like some spectral haunting... Yet not even
you can deny me my kill here... This parasitical vampire's life force is mine..."

"No. He belongs to me. He is my son." From the glow of Malcador's power a second figure
seemed to materialise as though simply stepping through a door. Where the First Angel's
Light had been one of Truth and of True Vision, the Emperor's Angel's Light burned with
blinding fury. The handful of Word Bearer's who could even bring themselves to look upon
the winged figure screamed as their eyes burned within their skulls, while the majority of
them simply fled into the wilderness before his furious radiance. Only Lorgar was able to
look upon his brother and not flee, yet even he took a single backwards without even
thinking.

Realising his backward step Lorgar rallied and snarled holding the blade of his sword
against the possessed neck of Jarulek. "He is on my world. In the body of one of my son's.
He is mine to torment and kill Sanguinius!"

A glowing spear of pure warp energy appeared within the hand of the Angel. "I will not
allow you to kill my son brother. If you attempt this we will fight you and I."

Lorgar paused for a second before growling back. "I am your equal brother! Here I am
stronger!"

A cold chill laugh was Lorgar's response. "You fool yourself Urizen...

"You call me a fool yet you still bow down to our Father while I follow the True Gods!"
Lorgar spat back.

A slight change came upon the cold beautiful features of The Risen and he took a step
towards his fallen brother as pity filled his eyes. "Lorgar. It is not too late. You have enslaved
yourself to terrible powers... Father saved Magnus from them. You can still be saved. Just
accept your mistake. Repent. Ask for His help brother... I will help you... I swear..."

Of all the things that had infuriated Lorgar that final look of pity in the eyes of his brother
was the final straw. Screaming his hate he raised his sword to bring it down upon the soul
still trapped in the dying body of his own Dark Acoylte. He might not have time to torture
the son of Sanguinius as he would like but he could still end him in front of his father,
torturing The Angel with his failure to save his son's very soul. Such a wound would torment
his brother he knew and it appealed to the hate burning in his soul for his pure and oh so
noble brother.

Yet he had forgotten about Malcador. The First Angel's withered arm shot forth with the
speed of thought and his golden staff pointed at the entrapped Kylaen. With a single
powerful act of will he snapped the bonds holding the Angel trapped within the dying body
and drew his soul out mere fractions of a second ahead off the descending blade. Jarulek
had just enough time to realise he was back in control of his dying body before his father's
own daemonic blade slashed down and cut not only his body in half but his very soul,
destroying it and giving him the Final Death. The soul of the Blood Angel flew from the
body to hover around the tip of the staff of the Sigillite as a glowing ball of pure energy
while Lorgar roared at his prize being denied him and drew himself up to launch himself at
his brother. Standing alongside Malcador and his rescued son The Angel of the Emperor
merely shook his head sadly and began to fade back into the Warp with the others as
Lorgar charged them screaming a dark spell with his sword raised. Before he could reach
them however the three Loyalist Angels had disappeared back into the Warp. Even as
Sanguinius disappeared his voice spoke out to Lorgar in an almost whisper. "I still have the
gift of foresight brother... You have turned down your last chance at redemption. There will
be no more opportunities for you... I am sorry."
Colchis
Horusite Empire

Dark Apostle Erelek had finally stopped running. Even an Astarte's incredible physical
prowess could be pushed only so far and he had taxed it with his mindless flight from the
glowing golden Angel who had appeared to thwart his own father. His transhuman reserves
drained almost to dangerous points his breath rasped out within his helmet. Somewhere in
his flight he had lost his bolter, yet he had at least retained his Accursed Crozius which he
clutched with both hands using it as an aid to holding himself upright. As his wits slowly
returned so did the shame at his flight. Astartes were said to not know fear, yet when he had
looked upon even the light cast from the Angel upon the ground and had to face the truth
of what he had become and what he might have been had he not fallen into the Dark the
emotions that poured forth were not so much fear as terror. All he could think off was to get
as far away from this light and it's Truth as he could, fleeing with his brethren into the
wilderness of Colchis. Behind him and over the vox he had heard the screams of those who
had looked directly into the source of that terrible illumination and had paid for it with at
the very least their eyes and perhaps their very minds. Somewhere in his flight he and the
others who had survived to flee had parted and went their separate ways, perhaps in some
instinctual attempt to make pursuit more difficult.
Keying his vox finally he spoke with a voice that was raw from screaming. "Erelek here.
Come in brothers. Where are you?"

There was no answer on the vox channels, only the hissing of static. He was being jammed.
Did that mean that the Corpse-Emperor's son still strode the holy desecrated soil of Colchis?
Erelek knew that if such was the case he should immediately attempt to find the invader and
attack him in the name of the True Gods. Yet the very thought of having to face the Lord
Sanguinius again drove him to almost fleeing again. By the time he had mastered the
emotions that welled up from inside him and was able to look around again he saw a figure
approaching with strong purposeful strides.

To large to be a mere Astarte Erelek breathed out a prayer to all the True God's that his
father still lived. It could not be the False Angel approaching and so could only be his father
the True Son of the God's Lorgar Aurelian! He must have defeated his brother and was now
rallying his sons to him! Pride nearly burst his chest at his father's achievement! He had
defeated one of the Corpse-Emperor's Nine Great Angels! Better he had defeated the False-
God's favourite son the Angel Himself! All the years of slights at the hands of the Loyalists
and even the other Traitor Astartes about Lorgar not being a true warrior Primarch were
washed away in the burning feelings of vindication! Only Horus himself had ever defeated
Sanguinius and only when empowered by the True God's themselves! The Primarch of the
Word Bearer's had done what not even such famed warriors as Angron or Mortarion had
managed! Raising his Accursed Corzius in salute of such a glorious triumph Erelek cried out
a paean of victory to his father and rushed towards him in triumphant ecstasy!

A paean that ended in a scream of pain and blood as his father's dark blade suddenly lashed
out and cut through his chest plate as though it wasn't there to send him flying back trailing
internal organs and dark rich blood. Collapsing onto the soil of his home world Erelek felt
his weapon slip from nerveless fingers as his lifeblood didn't so much as ebb out as gush.
Not even his Astarte's physiology could save him from such a deep and powerful wound.
Confusing warred with agony on his face as he opened his mouth and gurgled a single
questioning word through the torrent of of blood filling his mouth. "Why?"

As he stepped over to the already dying Dark Apostle, his armour stained with the blood of
a dozen or so more, Lorgar raised his blade and answered the question that all his son's had
asked as it dropped down to cleave his son's head in half. "No-one must know. The Legion's
faith in me must be preserved!"
Cadian Gates
Near the Eye of Terror

Sitting on the bridge of the Screaming Hubris was one of the few times that Lord Eidolon
could almost relax. His overlords attention was usually reserved for his experiments and he
gave little thought to the mundane tasks of running the Strike Cruiser which was his floating
laboratory when he wasn't working below on creating more and more advanced bio vats for
the World Eaters's Primarch. As such the heavily armoured room was almost safe. Almost. At
least from here he couldn't hear the screams of whatever the latest experiment was. Yet on
occasion he had himself to breach the meagre protection of the bridge and contact the
Gene-Surgeon himself. "My Lord Bile. We have intercepted a transmission from the
Battleship Bodt's Cleaver. They are inbound to join Lord Angron and his warbands."

With an annoyed hiss Fabius snapped back. "Another piece of flotsam join's the ghoul king
and you bother me during my work... Eidolon do you wish to keep your head...?"

Eidolon had to remind himself that Astartes could not know fear. Still if anything could
break that rule it was the fate awaiting any who upset the Clone Lord. "I understand my lord.
Yet they have reported having only 17 surviving Astartes aboard. It appears they have been
in heavy fighting and have subsequently turned on each other while in Warp if I am
understanding their guttural battle cant."

And just like that Bile's mood changed. "Really... Now that is interesting... I think it's time we
upgraded Eidolon. A Lord Commander like you can hardly be expected to command a
minor vessel like a Strike Cruiser. Yes. Begin preparations. I'm about done with this
miserable pile of mud anyway. If Angron hadn't allowed me to take samples of his new
Daemonic-Genetic structure I would have been finished months ago. I've more than paid
my "toll" to pass through his gates. Yes. Prepare two thirds of my Augmented Astartes and
both squads of surviving Astartes for boarding actions. Do try and preserve some of their
gene-seed for experimentation. Ideally a full set of Nails would be extremely useful. You will
seize the Cleaver and then I will bring over the bulk of my experiments and then we shall
leave this wretched little planet. With a new Battleship to add to my fleet. Arrange the
timing so that none of Angron's broken and rusting hulks can interfere. I've quite outgrown
a single Strike Cruiser I think..."
Cadian Gates
Near the Eye of Terror

Striding onto the bridge of the battle barge Eidolon's lips twisted in a moue of disgust at
the opponent who's skull he had crushed at the armoured hatch. How far the once famed
and feared World Eater's had fallen. Mindless berserkers who were barely worthy of the
effort it required to kill them. Even the dogs of the VIth Legion showed more signs of
cognition than the Nail implanted fools of the XIIth, a most damning comparison to
Eidolon's mind. As he stepped over the fallen World Eater he called out to the bridge crew.
"This Battleship is now in the service of the Emperor's Children and the Gene-Surgeon
Fabius Bile. Does anyone wish to contest this new allegiance?"

Not a single voice was raised in protest from the remaining human crew members of the
bridge. Perhaps because of the still smoking Thunder Hammer clutched in Eidolon's hand.
Perhaps due to the sight of the almost headless Astarte who he had just killed in the very
doorway of the bridge. Or perhaps due to the lack of loyalty that the World Eater's inspired
in their followers the Lord Commander mused silently. If that was the case the poor fools
would learn that they had exchanged mindless rabid masters for a cruel and methodical
monster to whom they were nothing but raw material. They would soon learn that their lot
had not improved. Keying his vox to the channel for the sergeants under his nominal
command he barked an order. "Is the ship secure?"

"All World Eaters have been accounted for. Engines, Armour and Landing Decks secured."
Sergeant Thuriel whispered, his voice so powerful that anything beyond a whisper would
destroy his helmet and probably everyone else on the vox channels hearing.

"The sweep of the under deck's continue." Gregantian snarled through a mouth that now
had too many and too long teeth.

"What is the delay?" Eidolon growled back, more at the sergeant's tone than the
information. Squad Divine Beauty had only 8 Astartes and the sheer size of a Battleship
meant it would take months to inspect every area.

"The size of a throne damned battleship is the delay! Plus this ship's been in battle. Large
areas are sealed against the void due to combat damage. I'm having to shift around areas
that are sealed off." Gregantian didn't even attempt to change his tone. Perhaps it was time
for him to go to Fabius for "upgrading".

"Accelerate your sweeps. Thuriel detach your heavy weapons warriors to secure the landing
decks and engine room and take your other warriors to help Thuriel." Before his sergeants
could protest Eidolon clicked of the channel. He missed the days where the Legion would
give unquestioned obedience to a Lord Commander and the discipline of the troops who
once called him Lord. Keying the Gene-Surgeon's personal vox channel he forced his
damaged voice into something approaching supplication. "My Lord the ship is secured. You
may begin the transfer of your vital work."

"You have done well Eidolon. You are ahead of schedule. Perhaps I will reward you by
upgrading your vocal cords again." Fabius responded. "Angron and his fool son's haven't
even noticed our actions yet. By the time they do we will be half way to the Mandeville Point
with both of our ships. Prepare the Landing bays for my arrival and have a warrior secure
the Apothacarium. God's only know what state those brutes have left it in!"

"It will be done my Lord." Eidolon promised as the line cut off. Passing on the orders he
sank into the Astartes sized command throne and began to brood over how far he had
fallen.
Far below, deep within the damaged and sealed off portions of the Battleship warriors
began to awaken from their self induced stasis. With the death of the last of the false-World
Eaters a signal had been sent to their brethren waiting in the cold of the void. Their
hundreds of brethren...
Cadian Gates
Near the Eye of Terror

As the dozen thunderhawk and stormbird gunships carrying the most vital of his master's
work touched down Eidolon tried hard not to think about that word. Master. However as the
Surgeon-General Fabius Bile strode down from his own personal gunship to oversee the
loading the former Lord Commander of the Emperor's Children couldn't help but feel the
bitterness of their change in rank even as he dropped to an armoured knee and spoke. "The
ship is secure my Lord Bile. All World Eater's are accounted for and I have the crew fully
cowed."

Before Bile could acknowledge the report a voice spoke with a dry chuckle. "Oh I am afraid
not Lord Commander..."

Even as quick as Eidolon's transhuman reflexes were, even enhanced as they were with Bile's
augmentations, they weren't quick enough. As he surged to his feet a dozen bolter rounds
tore into him from several directions sending him twisting and corkscrewing down to
crashing back to the deck with his armour torn and his life's blood splashing from the rent
plate. He was dead (again) before his body hit the armoured deck. All around the flight deck
came the roar of bolters and crack of more exotic weaponry as the few Astartes loyal to
Fabius Bile died along with their commander. Perhaps taking some small clue as to his fate if
he attempted to join his creations in resisting the former Gene-Surgeon made no move to
intervene as his warriors and slaves were slain. He merely stood with a look of total
disinterest on his face, which was marred only once when a stray round smashed a vial of
gene-stock from the Imperial Fist Legion. A silent snarl at the loss of such difficult to obtain
gene-seed twisted his face but it was gone almost as soon as it appeared. He didn't so
much so much as glance at the ruined body of the Lord Commander. His loss wasn't exactly
permanent after all.

As the last gunshot died several dozen figures in unmarked and unadorned plate slipped
from the shadows, vent's and gantries which had allowed them to infiltrate the landing
deck. Unheard by Bile but assumed, vox reports from the other areas of the ship announced
the death of every single Emperor's Children Astarte on board as the true owners of the
Cleaver took their ship back from the intruders. A single Astarte removed his helmet and
mag-clipped it to his thigh as he advanced on the awaiting Bile. A slight smile broke his
bland features as Bile took in his bald head and large height that marked his gene-sire. The
warrior spoke almost softly with the same dry chuckle that had announced the ambush.
"Alpharius would like a word with you apothecary..."
Roboute Guilliman's Study
Fortress of Hera

When word of his son's suspicions about the impending attack upon Iax reached him the
Lord of Macragge immediately began to assemble a force to lead to their aid. Not only did
he have faith in the judgement of his officers, he himself upon reading the reports had
come to the same conclusion. Mortarion was about to massively reinforce the attack upon
Iax with whatever forces he had in reserve. Indeed it was more than possible that the Lord of
Plagues himself would lead the attack. If he did so he would find one of his brothers there
to greet him properly Roboute swore as he organised the marshalling of a second relief
force. This time there were little reserves to be spared, particularly with his forces stretched
thin attempting to halt or at least slow the progress of the Black Crusade that was tearing
through Ultramar's western flank. A company here, a detachment here, a Titan battle group
there... For a brief second the Avenging Son wished his brother Corax present. None could
master the Raven Lord at assembling apparent scratch formations which were somehow
greater than the sum of their parts. With that thought in mind Roboute attempted to place
himself within his brother's mindset and emulate his strategies somewhat. A feat that most
Primarch's simply could not attempt even if they were minded to try, it was one of
Roboute's many gifts that he was able to at least partially "think" like his brothers. With his
great intellect focusing on seeing the data from the Raven Guard Primarch's viewpoint the
Ultramarine's Primarch was able to find at least a half dozen more units to slot into his
growing relief force.

So focussed on the work had he become that he was surprised when his brother Sanguinius
stepped through the door of his study with a wry smile on his beautiful features. "No
welcome call when I arrived in the system, no message when I reached orbit and you didn't
even greet me at the spaceport... Brother your manners are slipping..."

"I have been... Busy. Yet it is no excuse, I am sorry brother." Roboute stood from behind his
great desk which was covered with data slates off the various war zones besetting Imperial
Secondus. "Forgive me."

"Not only forgiven, consider it forgotten." The Angel strode forward and clasped hands with
his most practical brother before glancing down at the information on the desk. Even lost in
his work Guilliman's orderly mind had assembled the data slates and print outs in a logical
manner. Not for him a disorganised mess like Russ or even the Khan might leave. A single
glance at even the topmost of the data slates had Sanguinius nodding. "Good. You are
assembling my task force."

"Your task force? No brother, I will lead the counter attack against the Traitors." Roboute
shook his head firmly.
"If you do... You will die." Sanguinius spoke softly and without drama. "I have foreseen it
brother. You cannot stand against Mortarion and live on the diseased soil of Iax. He has
become more than a mere Primarch, he is now a Daemonic Primarch, combining both our
mortal power as well as the powers of the Warp. I alone of us can face him on an even
playing field for now... I must go in your stead."

Instinctively Roboute felt his ire growing and he opened his mouth to refute his brothers
claims before closing it as memories of the short lived Imperial Secondus and his brother's
premonitions at it's end... He had been right then. If he was right now... Still... "It is my world
brother. My Legion makes up the bulk of the troops committed. I should lead it..."

Sanguinius clasped a fine boned hand onto his brothers shoulder guard. "You mean it was
your Legion that was providing the bulk of the troops for this wave. I have brought 10,000
of my son's with me brother. We will aid the defenders of Iax and save the world. Trust me
brother, trust me to stand in your stead and preserve life... This fight is mine..."

Staring into his brother's eyes Roboute could only sigh and nod. Like almost all his brothers
he could do little to say no when the Angel asked. Of all of them, he had given everything
for their Father and had earned the right to ask whatever he pleased. "Very well brother.
You may face our brother Mortarion in my stead and I pray you face him in single combat
so that you might make him pay for his crimes!"

A wry smile broke the Angel's face. "Did I say I was going alone...? Russ and Magnus will be
accompanying me..."

Despite the grim news from Iax the Lord of Macragge couldn't help but bark a laugh at his
brothers news... The Wolf King and the Golden Cyclops... Together! He wasn't sure who he
was more sorry for, the two of them having to work together or Mortarion having to face
them!
The Moon of Dewall
Ultramar
Imperial Secondus

Striding forward surrounded by his acolytes and guards the Legion Master of the Thousand
Son's reached out with his powers in an attempt to track his prey through the sliding
threads of the future. Even for one such as he, a Magister Templi of the Corvidae Cult, it was
a difficult matter to track a single Astarte in a battle numbering thousands. Still his affinity
and former bonds with his prey helped his psychic and warp minions he had summoned to
track his passage through the many possible futures. A step to the left hear would take him
into a running battle with a depleted squad of Son's of Horus, while a step to the left would
bring him into a conflict of psychic might with one of the lesser sorcerers accompanying
Ahriman. Yes, he had stepped left. Regrettable for Htopan of the Wailing Staff who would
now fall to his former brother's khotep, yet it would make the Chapter Master's own victory
over his prey that little bit easier given the depletion of his opponent's power reserves to
destroy Htopan of the Pyrae Cult. Indeed feeling his way through the various possible paths
and outcomes Ahriman was well pleased by his former brother's choice to go left... If he
himself picked up his pace and took a short cut through the former industrial park ahead of
him while sending his Demi-Thrall's forward to clear his way he could time his arrival just as
Htopan fell to their former brother's blade. At the very moment that Librarian Vetap was
most drained.

Giving the mental commands needed Ahzek Ahriman broke into a run smashing aside a
Son's of Horus bred Demi who was too slow to get out of his way with his Black Staff.
Around him his own Acolytes and Thralls fired and cut a path for him through the ruined
industrial park, preserving their master's power for the coming duel. It was all about timing
and as a master of the Cult of the Corvidae, Ahzek Ahriman understood that more than
anyone.

Turning the final corner and sending a bolt of raw power to shatter the already crumbling
wall in front off him, the Master of the Thousand Son's leapt into the falling debris and
stepped out the other side, just as Librarian Vetap dragged his force blade from the ruined
chest of Sorcerer Htopan. Before the Loyalist Thousand Son could do little more than gather
the bare bones of a defence his former superior within the Legion was upon him, smashing
through his defences before they were fully set and crunching his Black Staff into the
Librarian's left arm with warp enhanced strength and precision, hitting the reinforced
Astarte's bone at just the right angle to not only break it but shatter the entire shoulder
joint. Even surprised and crippled by the first strike Vetap managed to swing his glowing
khotep blade up and across the ceramite plates over Ahriman's abdomen, yet the thick
plating and reinforcing ward's held so that the potentially crippling strike only left a deep
groove within the master crafted armour.

Ignoring the counter strike, which he had foreseen would not breach his war plate, Ahriman
followed up his own first attack with a blast of sorcery which burned around the head of the
Loyalist with flames that were first purple and then green, burning and melting at the
Achaeran pattern helmet. With a growling word Vetap was able to dismiss the flames and
restore his vision, but not in time to see the third attack of the Traitor, who swung his Force
Staff down in another crippling strike this time to Vetap's left knee. With the warp energies
burning along it and enhancing the power of the blow the strike didn't so much as break
the Astarte's knee as destroying it, sending the Loyalist Librarian hurtling back with his lower
left leg hanging by a few power cables and shreds of remaining flesh.

Fighting back the pain the Librarian forced himself upright in the face of the oncoming
charge and hit back with a blast of force lightning channelled through his force sword,
hurtling it directly at the charging Ahriman. The Lightning struck the Legion Master and
played over his armour with crackling bolt's of cerulean force, hunting for any weakness or
chink in the ward's of the Traitor, yet found none. A single blast managed to penetrate
through the damaged plate over Ahriman's stomach but even penetrating the weakened
ward's there left little remaining power to do any real injury. Ignoring the stabbing pain
from the brief breach, Ahriman struck once and then again and again with his force staff.
Each strike reinforced with warpcraft and power, smashing into the now prone figure of his
former brother, leaving his armour cracked, limbs broken and helmet smashed in. Only
when his opponent was totally incapacitated did Ahriman stop even for a second, looking
down at the wreckage of a warrior-scholar who he had once called friend. Rasping through
his helmet's grill he finally spoke. "It doesn't have to end like this. You can still recant your
loyalty to the False-Emperor and his weakling Son."

Blood bubbling on his lips from pierced lungs and with his jaw broken Vetep was unable to
speak, yet he was able to speak directly to Ahriman using his mind still. "You are the
Corvidae. In any of your futures do I agree to betray my oaths as you have done?"

There was almost sadness in the answer. "No."

"I go to my Emperor willingly and do not fear his judgement. I do not think you will be able
to say the same thing when it is your time old friend. Strike and be damned!" For a brief
second the Librarian's eyes filled with golden fire and a last blast of pure golden warp power
blasted upwards from his broken fingers and struck Ahriman with enough force to make
him stagger backwards. He had not seen this attack in his visions, nor it's sheer power. All
over his armour ward's flickered and died as the golden energy surged around him. Over his
belly the energy flowed through the crack and burned deep into his stomach, burning like
nothing he had ever even conceived before. As the golden power surged through the
shattered plate and into him he realised what it was, Vetep was powering this attack with his
very soul! Screaming in pain and rage Ahriman forced himself to take one final step forward
and to bring his Black Staff down one final time on the exposed face of his former friend,
shattering his skull and killing him in an instant. Instantly the golden flames lapping over his
armour and into his body flickered and died, leaving him standing in half melted armour
that was smoking and black wherever the golden flames had burned. Breathing heavily he
calmed his mind and with a thought summoned a medical Thunderhawk to his position as
his guards and apprentices took up protective stances around him. The golden flames
unleashed by Vetep had hurt him much worse than even his worse case projections of how
this fight was supposed to go, yet he had triumphed and one of the most powerful
Librarians within the Loyalist Thousand Son's was dead at his hands. He calmed himself and
took solace in that even as the medical gunship landed and an apothecary ran forward to
aid him aboard.
Aboard the Light of Knowledge, Thousand Son's Battle Barge
The Moon of Dewall
Ultramar
Imperial Secondus

Despite himself Ahriman couldn't fight back the angry rasp in his voice as the apothecary
administered another dose of his strongest painkillers to the partially burned flesh that
surrounded the deep scorch wound on his stomach. "Don't just mask the pain! Do
something about it!"

Helmet less the apothecary shook his bald head, the glaring lights above the surgical slab
glittering of the service studs that picked out into a glyph for healing upon the medic's very
skull. "I have tried. I have administered every healing technique I know, both psychic and
mundane. The wound will not heal. All I can do is attempt to treat the pain it is causing you
Legion Master."

"Then find me another medic who is more skilled than you!" This time Ahzek Ahriman made
no effort to keep the rage from his voice, sitting up despite the sharp burning pain this
caused him even with the strong painkillers coursing through his system. With his
movement flakes of burned meat sloughed from his wound, leaving burning red flesh
beneath that immediately began to char and harden itself into dead meat. "I refuse to
believe that there is no way to treat this wound!"

The chief apothecary of the Thousand Son's flagship spread blood splattered hands. "I have
used every spell, incantation, drug and surgical procedure I know off to heal you my lord. I
have even surgically removed every single piece of burned flesh, cleansing the flesh down to
the very bone, yet when it regrow the burns return. I believe that Sorcerer... I mean Librarian
Vetap's last spell seems to have infected you on not only a cellular level but also spiritually.
The flesh reflects the soul. I lack the skill to undo it. Nor do I know of any other Apothecary
of the Legion or any other who would fare any better Lord Ahriman."

For a second the spell that would blast the useless idiot hung on the tip of the Ahriman's
tongue but with a final snarl he thrust himself from the medical slab and stood, calling for
his servitors to arm him again. The Legion's numbers were too few to waste even a wretch
like this. If he could not be healed by the medical savants of his Legion and their healing
spells, surgeries or drugs then he would have to turn to other more esoteric sources of
respite or release from the burning pain that spread over most of his abdomen. There would
be a way to cleanse himself from this damnable curse! As he strode from the surgical centre
buried deep within the most armoured parts of his flagship he chopped short the warning
from the fool about how over time the drugs being used to mask the pain would fade in
their effects. Fool. He had already realised that for himself.

Hurrying to his sanctuary while showing no signs of his injury was an act of agonising
willpower for even one such as he. No matter how many times he tried to settle his mind
into one of the higher planes of thinking to shield himself from his bodies pain he was
unable to do so. Every single time he could feel his mind slipping into the trance required
there would be a sharp burning pain in his body that dragged his consciousness back down
into the levels of awareness that were little better than what an ordinary line brother of the
Legion could achieve! It was intolerable! More, if he could no longer transcend his bodies
limitations with his mind then he would swiftly find himself losing influence and power as he
was unable to use his magical abilities to their full potential.

Sensing that time was off the essence Ahriman had his most trusted acolytes help him
prepare for a rare and powerful ritual in order to summon one of his Patron's most powerful
servants in order to obtain information on how to cure himself from his affliction. Usually he
would have managed to do so himself and with little of the more brutal methods of
summoning such a Daemon that lesser minds required, yet with his mind shackled by the
burning pain he was forced to take a more simplistic ritual than normal. As his acolytes cut
the throats of the 64th mortal sorcerer to feed his ritual he spoke the words from the huge
tome chained at his belt and directed his will into the Warp with a roared. "I command thee!
Attend me!"

The room was plunged into darkness, every light from the lumen globes and strips to the
human fat tallow candles disappeared in a single heartbeat. True and utter darkness filled
the room. So deep was the dark that even the light enhancing technologies of an Achean
pattern Mk IV helmet returned nothing but darkness. Nor did the thought impulse
command for his armours own lights work. Still even with his sight totally denied him Ahzek
Ahriman was not blind. He could sense the huge power resting within the summoning circle
he had used. He had been successful. The creature was merely playing games. Games he
had no time for. "Show yourself. I am not impressed by such parlour tricks. I have
summoned you. I command you."

From the darkness came a sudden light. A single glowing golden eye appeared in the centre
of the summoning circle, burning with power. A familiar voice spoke softly yet with barely
restrained rage. "You do not command me Ahzek..."