Editing The Tales of the Emperasque: Part Thirteen (section)

==2-100-001-M42==
Two hundred thousand Guardsmen and PDF coming to attention at the same time is not something you hear very often, even when you’re the ruler of a pocket empire. Roboute Guilliman savored it. He had a lot of work to do, and wouldn’t be likely to hear it again.<br>
The assembled troops were arranged by company, with the entire plaza packed nearly solid. The few hundred Ultramarines – including Dreadnoughts – present on Macragge had assembled around the plaza at intervals, save Calgar himself, who was standing on the marble stage at the front of the plaza. The center of the plaza was filled with a metallic statue of himself, Guilliman noted with wry amusement. THAT hadn’t been there when he had seen the place last.<br>
Calgar was leading a ceremony to welcome him back formally. Guilliman noted that the gaping hole in the roof of the temple, wherein he had resided for ten thousand years, was already partially fixed. They certainly hadn’t wasted any time in the month since the Emperor had blasted it open.<br>
He heard his name mentioned for about the fiftieth time since the speech had begun, and grimaced with distaste at the words that had preceded them. “Spiritual Liege.” Damn it, he had known the moment he had said those words, over ten millennia ago, that they would have become the “Peace in our time,” no matter how long it had been since he had said them. Sometimes you just can’t outrun bad decisions.

Ah well. Calgar was bowing out, and the time for introspection was over. Guilliman stepped up to the podium, feeling the eyes of over a fifth of a million soldiers on him. That never got old. The PDF Sergeant-at-arms at the edge of the podium puffed himself up. “Ten…HUT! Heyes…front! Chest…out! PRE-sent…HARMS!” The troops present – even the Ultramarines, Guilliman noted – followed the instruction with commendable precision. Guilliman nodded curtly to the Sergeant, who continued his bellowing. “Ultramar…at…EASE.” The ranks of soldiery dropped back into file, those whose hands weren’t occupied clasping them at their backs.<br>
Guilliman slowly exhaled and stepped up to the vox, marshaling his thoughts. It always distantly bothered him when he didn’t have time to practice his speeches. “Thank you, Sergeant,” he said, nodding at the man again. Without waiting for a response – like he would have gotten one! – he cast his gaze out over the crowd. “My friends. Before I say anything else, I feel I must establish…it is very good to be home.” He paused a moment to let the smiles work their way across the faces of the troops assembled below, many of whom were either weeping openly or on their way there. The Primarch let the silence build in potency for a moment before moving on. “I know that the means and timing of my departure a month back were disconcerting at best. I assure you, had I been conscious to witness it, I would have been just as confused as I’m told you were.” A ripple of sycophantic laughter echoed through the assemblage. The buzzing cloud of servo-skulls and pictcaster drones over the crowd wobbled in the faint evening breeze as they broadcast the signal to every living person with access to an antenna or psychic powers within a hundred light-years.

“That said, the Emperor sends his best, to the legions of troops who held the line against the predations of the Tyranids. Give yourselves the credit you and your predecessors deserve for that accomplishment.” Guilliman inclined his head a fraction as the few Tyrannic War Veterans present – only four, plus Calgar – nodded to acknowledge the applause. When it ended, Guilliman resumed. “I must say, it pleases me to no end that Macragge is held alongside Terra as one of the beacons of the Imperium. Ten thousand years gone by, and Ultramar stands.” He paused again to let the roar of adulation and approval wash through the plaza. He timed his next words carefully, to cut across the last second or so of sound. “I look forward to, once again, leading the Realm in its protection, expansion, and enrichment of the Imperium. I know that when the time comes, I will be able to count on every single one of you to assist me in that most noble endeavor. I hope that the faith the rest of the Imperium holds in the martial prowess and unshakable economic strength of Ultramar will be justified by our conduct. I look forward to it, in fact. I will call upon you soon, my battle-brothers, to once again purge the Imperium of the heretic, the mutant, and the alien.” He aimed that comment at the entire crowd, not just the Marines, and smiled to himself at the sight of the mortal warriors in the crowd swelling with pride at being included in such heady company.

Guilliman raised his gaze over the crowd to the walls of the city beyond, and the still-damaged temple. “The times the Imperium has faced over the last ten thousand years have been trying, I know now. And I know, not all of the battles we have fought in the Emperor’s name have ended with the triumph we deserve. But now, together, with our Emperor restored to his proper position at the head of Humanity, and with myself and my brothers beside him, we can begin again, and make this Imperium strong.” He placed as much emphasis on the last word as he could, to underscore his trust in the troops, and they responded with another round of applause, as the Ultramarines thumped their gauntlets against their breastplates. “For that, my friends, my fellow warriors of the Imperium of Man, I thank you.” He nodded once and stepped back, gesturing below the podium to the Sergeant. The man took a step forward and addressed the plaza.<br>
“Ten – HUT!” The Guard and PDF snapped back to attention as Guilliman dismounted the back of the stage, not looking back. “DIS…MISSED!” the Sergeant bellowed. The ranks of troops filed out by company, as the Ultramarines either returned to the vehicles that had borne them there or wandered across the plaza towards the temple. As soon as he was off the podium, he angled straight for the awe-struck Calgar, who was waiting for him.<br>
“Well said, my Liege,” Calgar said quietly, as Guilliman disengaged the vox from his armored gorget.<br>
“Thank you, brother Marneus,” Guilliman said, dropping the vox into the waiting hands of a Chapter serf. “And, please, don’t call me that.”<br>
“Liege? My Lord, I mean it only as a sign of respect,” Calgar said in genuine surprise.<br>
“Of course you do. But our Liege has risen from His Throne once more.” Guilliman climbed into the compartment of the Ultramarine Land Speeder parked behind the stage. “I shouldn’t take that from him. Now, come. We have a great deal to discuss.”