Editing /tg/ Heresy Writefaggotry (section)

==Great Crusade Era==

===Burning Worlds===
The world was on fire.


One could not tell if it was day or night from the eternal glow, or the ash that choked the sky. The battlefield was a picture of hell, the hell man had once believed in before the Imperial Truth had swept such superstition away. But here and now, that mythical hell was reborn upon Yaga Prime, sending countless souls to damnation.


Striding through the flames, the Sons of Fire burned everything before them. The human defenders of this world, who had refused to abandon their gods and beliefs, were now either ash or small bands of fleeing survivors, each being run down and burned one after the other.


The war had been won in a single hour and twenty-seven minutes, though the battle still raged on three weeks later.
One hour twenty-seven minutes. That had been how long it had taken for his ships to cripple the enemy fleet and fire-bomb every single major city on the planet.
Over half the enemy flotilla had been lost in the opening salvos, the rest in the hours and days after. The wreckage now orbited the capital planet, the heart of this system.
Following that, twenty-four Modalis-class atmospheric missiles had been launched from the Eternal Conflagration at the surface of Yaga Prime. Each targeted a key strategic location, major cities, strategic hubs, and within seconds billions had burned.

Thus, the war for Yaga Prime was won in one hour twenty-seven minutes. In the months that followed, all that remained was to complete the cull.


First Captain Kariman could feel the blistering heat inside the confines of his Terminator Plate. That meant that outside the temperature must be blistering, near that of the Plasma Reactors his suit had once been designed for.


He strode dispassionately through the carnage, through the fire, flanked by his standard bearer Kleast, the standard singed at the edges, and master of signal Amerauk. The first company was at the heart of the pursuit, passing the blazing hulks of tanks and troop carriers. The crackling sound of burning flesh was everywhere, and the smell, the smell of burned man. That smell was lodged in the nasal cavities of every last Son of Fire. Most loved that smell. Kariman disliked it.
''I am in the wrong Legion. I take no pleasure in what I have to do.''


Most of his brothers took glee in burning all before them, the sickness that it seemed consumed more and more of his Brothers. Even before their Primarch had joined them, the Legion had taken to the use of flame weapons more often than not. Kariman had been young then, and had hoped their Primarch would be a great leader, one who could stand shoulder to shoulder with his Brothers as the Crusade pushed ever onwards.


Then they had found their liege lord, and all had changed.

“Kariman,” A deep, booming voice suddenly crackled through the vox.

He knew instantly who it was.


His Primarch. The Burned King. The Fire Rider. Inferox.


“You are needed. One of the Sigillite’s spawn has arrived to see our progress, and I need you here with me.”

“And why is that sire?”

“So you can restrain me if I get fed up of her twittering and want to see how well she burns.”


He could see in his kind’s eye the Primarch's mighty flame-claw gauntlets flexing. Inferox was hardly co-operative. He was pointed at a world, and told to burn it. To have a representative of the Regent of Terra come, had to mean something was up.


“I’m on my way,” Kariman began, but the line was already dead.


“Kleast? Contact Captain Tamyo and tell him command’s passed to him. I have been summoned.”

“The Primarch?”

“Who else?”

Kleast lowered the standard as he turned to Kariman. “Keep him calm. The last thing we need is another ‘accidental’ death. Emperor knows we've had enough of them in the past.”

===Roses Crush The Best===
Rosean, an oceanic world covered nearly entirely with water with the exception of a small continent containing its only landmass. It accounts for seventeen percent of the total surface area of the world only. The people of Rosean possess an advanced form of laser technology they had devised after years of isolation. The sudden appearance of the Imperium was at first met with glee, but demands for compliance soon found the small system and the solar empire at war. Lacking in voidships, the Roseans more than make up for this with their fearsome technology which the Imperium eagerly desires to dissect.

The Imperial amassed fleet sits behind one of the two moons of the planet. Heated debate has paralyzed the reclamation force for a week now. The Silver Cataphracts First Captain Sergei had been butting heads with very Primarch of the Mastodontii himself. It had to be getting serious, or else they wouldn't be calling her up. The Lacunan Lifewatch had been posted with the 66th Expedition Fleet with the intention of bringing back less than welcoming human worlds into the loving embrace of the Imperial Truth. But no one had requested the Major General's presence except if they needed to prolong an argument. The Astartes gave orders. They didn't hold meetings that involved the common soldiery, normally. The elevator climbed the many floors of 'Rosskar's Frown' in a flash, reaching the war room with a few minutes to spare before she was supposed to arrive. There were no windows in this section of the ship, as it was in the very heart of the numerous layers of plasteel and ceramite that made the vessel's hull.

Stepping with her right foot out, she stride forward with gloved hands in her coat pocket ever closer to the sounds of bickering Astartes. "Major General Francia?"The question came from her left. The man appeared to be young, but that told you nothing. Rejuvenant treatments were commonplace among the upper echelon of the Imperial Army. His uniform was a dulled white, that of snow. It was nothing remarkable, which was remarkable. It didn't have flashy glint or elaborate designs, but it didn't look like he made it back at his backwater of a homeworld either.

"I am Major General Alexey, of the Rosskar Strelky," It was only polite to greet one's comrade with a handshake, right? Francia didn't think so, and the gesture died between them. 

"You're the Silver's dogs, huh?" 

"Excuse me, miss?"

"You heard what I said. Your men don't think the Army is good enough for you, I understand." 

The young-looking man was taken aback. He found his footing though, replying with a curt, "I did not expect you to be such a bitch."

A smug grin formed on the Lifeguard's commander. "There it is. Old Rosskan fire. Please don't waste my time with pleasantries, I know your people don't waste time with it and I don't either. Can we agree to be honest with each other? We have enough to deal with the Astartes. Alright?"

It appeared as if a weight was lifted off of Alexey's shoulders. The years of training in etiquette and manners melted away in no time. He slouched his back, pulling out a small winter cap to place on his head. "Glad we can find agreement even when others cannot." The yelling of the Captains still rung in the hallway.

"Let's go inside before they notice we're late."

It is an odd place to be between demi-gods. They are giants within armor to make a tank blush, wielding weaponry and strength not able to be conceived by the average soldier. The Lifeguard had fought for three campaigns alongside the Mastodontii, becoming quite accustomed to their tactics and strategies. Alexey had been raised from birth to assume his role as supreme commander of the Strelky, the grand auxiliary forces who support the Silver Cataphracts in their endeavors. 

Currently First Captain Sergei 'The Bear' was having the same argument he'd been in with the damn Primarch of the Mastodontii, Tollund Ötztal. The Great Hunter. 

As always, Sergei presented his case with the vigor and frozen fury of most Rosskans, "Those lasers will make a convention assault impossible. We'll have a hard enough time organizing out fleet to the orbit of the world so we aren't destroyed by surface-to-stellar batteries! We must move before more satellite defenses can be mustered! They've made another dozen in the time you've been having your 'talks'."

"Those discussions," always Tollund had a way with words that completely enraptured Francia, "As you so easily dismiss could lead to a completely peaceful solution. Even while that may fail, we are exploring completely bypassing those satellites and batteries by contacting sympathetic elements with Rosean. If you would only give it time, my brother."

"You! Are not! My fucking brother!" Sergei slams his Bolter into the table, smashing it and the weapon in two. "You will not see what is clearly necessary in front of you! This world has huge populations of algae which can be harvested to feed worlds which struggle to survive. And you want to preserve a few million when billions could suffer from our inaction? I have damn patience, but not the patience. To do. Nothing!"

If it had been any other Primarch Sergei would either be dead or demoted by now. Always his fiery temperament had brought him to blows with his own Primarch, who admired him for the tenacity that grew within him. Alexey had come to expect it by now, but he never lived in fear of it. Despite the rage Sergei never succumbed to it. No one had ever been hurt by it, except maybe Sergeo himself. 

Tollund in regular expected fashion took the bluster and anger without a beat lost. The debate continued for hours, with what to do about this possibility or that outcome or any possible result of their actions. Sergei attempted to out think Tollund, to bring cold reason and hard facts into the equation. While Tollund spoke circles around the furious Captain by showing the clear virtue of handling this with the least amount of blood shed possible. 

"The Imperium needs every soul. That includes our own and those of whom we wish to incorporate. You cannot rush progress, Captain."

Alexey spoke up at last, "Yes you can, Primarch. That is exactly what the Imperium is doing. That is what the Imperail Truth is, and that is the entirety of the Rosskan people's history for the past few centuries. Progress obtained from pure will and might."

The room fell silent. A Captain out speaking to the Primarch, this was a possibility. A human outright speaking against him, correcting him, and calling him wrongful was. It gave Francia more than plenty of reasons to take a few steps to the side when Tollund turned about. Instead of a angry glare, a friendly smile looked down upon the Strelky's Major General. "You agree with the Cataphracts philosophy? Not surprising. But you do not have authority here, despite being in such a prominent position within the militia forces of Rosskar. I will let you speak your mind, go on."

"Well, the Roseans obviously do not wish to be part of the Imperium. Their continued deployment of satellites, and the fact we much reach out to fringe groups and extremists to find support displays the sad fact that the majority of the population support this anti-Imperial sentiment. We must act quickly, as Sergei says. Not because he is a Silver Cataphract, but because every satellite represents another thousand or more crewmen dying in the upcoming void battle."

Francia stepped from the shadows to speak out against her colleague, before Tollund was able to reply. The Primarch saw the look in the woman's eyes, and happily allowed her the room. "So, you think just because we can't see the extent of the Pro-Imperial Rosean sentiment, we can't be sure that we could avoid even a space battle? We're talking about millions of lives, an advanced civilization that could even teach us something. This world deserves some time to allow us to reach out to them. If the Imperium struck out at the first signs of resistance, Rosskar would be ashes right now."

All debate was ended with the sound of thunder. A figure marched into the room that demanded immediate reverence and respect from everyone except Primarch Tollund. It was Alexandri, dressed in green and white with a golden power maul in one hand, a lighting claw in the other. His face bore a great, massive long brown beard that ran down the front of his huge suit of armor. The Silver Cataphracts progenitor seemed full of glee as he surveyed the room. "Sorry!" His voice boomed in the room, a making the soft voice of Tollund appear like a faint whisper. "The warp is a fickle mistress. Anyways, my forces have already taken up position on the opposite moon. Those lasers! Dear, they nearly sniped by shuttlecraft. Let us all be thankful they aren't that accurate? Haha!"

Sergei signed heavily, looking to his Primarch with a mix of annoyance and barely concealed anger, "I'm going to say you had a few on the way, didn't you, Alexandri?"

"Perhaps so, perhaps not. Where is my favorite nephew though?"

Alexey smiled wide at his Uncle, speaking up, "Here."

"Aaah! Alexey! I'm glad to see you, we must meet somewhere else when this is all over!"

Tollund actually grew annoyed by his fellow Primarch's actions. He wanted to speak with his brother on how best to solve the Rosean problem. Hopefully with his wise council, they would be able to avoid the complications experienced between himself and Sergei. "Brother, please. Could we speak about Rosean?" 
Alexandri turned to face his brother, "What about that shit heap of a world?"

"How are we going to deal with it!"

Sergei would never forget the look on Alexandri's face as he spoke the words, "It has already been dealt with, brother."

Tollund's face didn't have time to match up with the horror and revulsion as he uttered the words, "What did you just say?"
"Yes, I had my flagship push the lesser moon into the sea. The tidal wave caused will sink the Rosean continent underneath the sea. The problem has been dealt with."

The room went silent. Both sides having been shocked by this act. Sergei was disgusted, Alexey was horrified. While others were left simply stunned Francia charged ahead to stand before the armored bulk of the Primarch. Her words spat forth like venom, her eyes filled with anger, "You act without the rest of us? You are callous, cruel man who on-"
One swat was all it took for Alexandri to rip her into several pieces with his power claw. It was remarkable how a hulking giant such a Primarch can move so fast. A flick of the wrist, and a life was ended. "Tollund," Alexandri said flexing his surging blades, "See in the future that you keep better discipline amongst your lesser ranks. I will not suffer an insult like that again. Alexey! Let's go shoot something! I'm sure there must be something to hunt in the underholds!"

This was when Sergei, and Tollund, first began to truly despise Alexandri.
===Lazerus Lies in Ashes===
‘Kneel,’

One word. Not a word, a command. A command as unbreakable as the very laws of the universe. A command from a living god, from the very apotheosis of all man.

And yet the one commanded resisted.

‘What?’ Aubrey the Grey, Lord of the Eternal Zealots asked, almost confused, unaware of why his Father was doing this.

‘Kneel, Aubrey.’

Slowly but surely, Aubrey lowered himself to one knee.

The Emperor, a being of light and power, now spoke to the prostrate form of his son.

‘You are a general, my son. Not a healer. You were created for war, for conquest, to reunite the human race under the aegis of truth. The human race. Not that of any other species.’

‘I fight for all beings.’ Aubrey was no longer kneeling. He rose to his feet, his voice rising with him. ‘My Legion fights for your vision, for what you want the Imperium to be.’

+It is not my Imperium+

His words were now laced with power, enough power to destroy a million souls, the power that could force any being to comply with them.

+It is the Imperium of Man. Of Man, Aubrey. The empire of humanity. Tell me, were those, things that raised you men?+

Aubrey could not answer. He knew the truth, knew what was coming, He didn’t want to face it, but it was coming as unstoppably as the passage of time.

+Remember what I told you, the day we first met. Xenos are never to be trusted. They are treacherous, selfish beings that want nought but their own advancement, not ours. They would throw all mankind on the pyre for but a day more of life. They have used you, my son. Used you as a way to get what they want. Not what I want+

He now dropped his power and used his flesh voice, no less potently.

‘You are blind, my son. You cling to ancient perceptions, and endanger us all with them. Let this end, Aubrey. Let this end with you heeding my words.’

Aubrey still knelt where he was, trembling. Blood ran from one ear, running in a slow trail down his neck.

‘I am listening, father,’ he slowly said.

The then once more made his address, this time to the whole Legion. Every Astartes on all the ships orbiting Lazarus now heard these words.

+Eternal Zealots, hear me well. You, among all my Legions, are guilty of failure. You have won many victories, but they have all been hollow. You have embraced vipers to your breast, and nurtured the true foes of humanity+

+You allied with and supported xenos races, many of whom preyed on humanity during old night. You gave them our weapons and taught them about us. You armed our foes. While all others succeed and bring prosperity to the Imperium, you alone have failed me+

The emperor now gestured at the planet below, As light began to bloom upon its surface.

+So in punishment, Lazarus is forfeit. Even now your loyal, true brother Bohemond executes my orders. Lazarus burns, for all the crimes you have committed against me+

Aubrey stared as the fire spread across the planet, the image burning forever into his mind.

+Wage war as you were created to do. Serve the Imperium as you were born to do. Destroy all foes who dare to face us, leave no xenos between here and the eternal void. Take with you the lesson learned here this day. You kneel in the ruination found at the end of a false path. Let this be your Legion’s rebirth+

The primarch managed a weak ‘Father…’ but it was spoken to emptiness. Another sonic boom of displacing air heralded the Emperor’s return to his Flagship.

And as his homeworld burned, and all he had once knew was ripped away forever, Aubrey crashed to his knees at last.
===Hints of Nikaea===

It was on Ullanor, meeting on the Triumph Plain with the last blood of the slain greenskins still stinking in the air, that those who could see what was coming gathered to confer.

"Greetings, brother," Cyaxares had said, grinning across his strange ruddy face. "It has been too long."

Aubey the Grey, the prodigal son, bowed. "Indeed. Not since before, Father had words with me."

Cyaxares gave a reaffirming clasp onto Aubrey’s pauldron, resting his hand there. The old pain of Lazerus, and of his adoptive race, felt distant. For the moment. Darius spoke calmly, and as if he understood his woe, "Indeed. Fortunately the past is past. You are forgiven, one with the family again. How are you? You look leaner than you were, if such a thing were possible."

Aubrey gave an equivocal shrug. He had seen much in the Eye, had seen the truth of creation. It had worn at him, changed him in ways even now he had yet to understand.

Cyaxares led him to a pavilion, where several of his brothers were also gathered. "I dislike these gatherings," was the greeting Alexandri of the Silver Cataphracts gave as he looked out over the plain at the gathering masses. Alexandri was a cold soul, but he had just as good a reason to be here as the others.

"Good." Said the Voidwatcher who could quite possibly the most psykically powerful of all of those present, as he got up to face Aubrey. "We are all here. We need to confer."

"About the Librarius?" Aubrey asked.

"You must have heard the rumours," Alexandri replied.

The Voidwatcher grinned his signature sickening smile, "There are always rumours. Lumey can shout his ignorance as much as he likes. I think the rest of the Imperium is learning to ignore him."

"It is not just Lumey. Arelex, Krainos. There is no shortage to the ignorant. Many who fear us, who hate us. Who would see us and our numbers, culled."

"Worry less," said Cyaxares, "There will always be suspicion of the gifted. We have to manage it, to explain it."

The Voidwatcher snorted, "They will destroy what we have built. None of them rest easily with what our Father has allowed. If we do not guard what we have won–"

"You forget one thing," Darius said quickly, cutting off the tattooed son of Ostium.

"Which is?" the Voidwatcher shot back, annoyed at the interruption.

"Our father," said Cyaxares fondly, "He set this thing in motion – can you imagine him letting the attack dogs ruin it? Lumey and Arelex will be given their chance to fulminate, I have seen it. Our only task, my elusive friend, is to remain true to reason."

"Yes, but what if Father listens to them?" Snapped the Voidwatcher, now bearing teeth, "Do not blindly trust in our Father to do what we want him to. His decisions are His own, and He can change them if He wants."

"Indeed," Alexandri said, his voice deep and angered, "Which is why we must not let that happen. We must present a united front. Only together can we ensure that the witch-hunters do not win." He stressed the word ‘Witch’, with a snarl playing about his lips. Aubrey had heard that psyker covens had been present on Rosskar, and that was the origin of the Psykers of the 24th Legion. He had no psychic power in him, unlike the Voidwatcher, Cyaxres or even Otztal, who wasn’t present for Ullanor.

"Why do we need to do this? Has Father given an inkling of any plans to deal with the Librarius?" Aubrey asked.

"Why is he gathering fifteen of us here Aubrey?" The Voidwatcher replied, softening his tone as if talking to a child, "You can feel in the air can't you? An event is on the horizon. And if He’s going to do anything without first seeing to the Librarius, then He’s a bigger fool than I thought. And Father is many things, but never a fool."

"So, what do we do then?" Aubrey asked, dark thoughts already curling in his mind. He would converse with the Gods, and see how this could be turned to their benefit.

"We talk," Voidwatcher stated, "We create a united ideal. We ensure our message is the same. The power the Librarius grants to us. The ideas of the future. The psychic potential that all humans have, and which must be nurtured. The power that is our birthright. Appeal to what Father knows, what He Himself wants of us all. We do that, and we ensure nothing goes wrong."

"And what if we fail?" Alexandri replied his voice full of disbelief, "What if we lose, and the Librarius is abolished, and all Psychic powers disposed of."

"Once a mind is opened it can never be closed,"The Voidwatcher said, voice now drained of all emotion, "This will not go against us. It cannot, and we will make it so."

"And it won’t." Cyaxares smiled. "Don’t be so dour you two. This is merely a precaution. We don’t know exactly what’s to happen yet. We merely know something will happen. Keep calm and carry on." He then turned to Aubrey. "You’ve been silent Brother. What do you think of all this?"

Aubrey shrugged again. "We do not know enough yet to be this worried. Precautions are good, but I do not see what all the fuss should be about. When Father speaks, when we learn why we have all been summoned here, then we should make plans. Until then, I have other things to deal with. Now, must we linger on this dust-clogged plain all morning, or does the Imperium’s munificence here extend to something to eat?"





===The Temptation of Onyx===
Onyx Sat down to meditate in the Sanctum aboard the Everest. It had been a long-fought war against the monstrous creatures known as the Jormmund, and he was spent physically, as well as mentally. He had lost many brothers in this costly campaign, at least 20,000 by the Apothecaries' latest count. The Emperor had a statue erected in his legion's honor on the home world of the horrific titans, Jormungand. He was also gifted the grand Everest, a super battle cruiser in development since his discovery on Neolithus. The Emperor figured it a fitting reward for fighting off such a terrible foe, and presented it on the celebratory day of victory. Now, he could finally take respite from war and reclaim his senses. His eyes closed and his stern, chiseled expression froze on his face. 

He saw himself standing with the other primarchs, and in front of them, the mighty Emperor addressing the people of Terra. He remembered this day, it was an announcement that all the sons of the glorious Emperor had been recovered, and that the Great Crusade could now fully begin. Onyx felt something, almost like inadequacy. He towered over many of the Primarchs, and even the Emperor himself. But that was not were his insecurities lied, no, he felt that he was just simply not a son of the father of mankind. All his life he had thought himself a normal man. Well, perhaps not normal, but at least a mortal. Now he was expected to be a son of the most god-like being in all of humanity. Then, all of a sudden, a flash of light blinded him temporarily. When his eyes had adjusted, he found himself on the plains of Jormungand, fighting in the Collossi wars. The cyclonic torpedo that had created the blinding flash dissipated into a plume of black smoke, and the surroundings became clear. This was the final hour of the war, the fall of the Jormmund. Instinctively, he turned to see the final titan: the largest of them all, bigger than 3 Emperor class titans combined. It straddled a craggy mountain like a mere footstool; It's twisted, gnarled arms crushing and pummeling his forces. 
"You did this. You felled the giants, as mighty as they were. Why do you doubt yourself, son of Neolithus?"
Onyx turned to direction of the voice, and saw a blood-red space marine. He was taller than even he, and very clearly stronger. His armor was adorned with golden medals, sashes, and ornaments. At his side lay a massive chainaxe, pristine as if it had never been used.

"You think yourself mortal. This could not be farther from the truth. You are not only immortal, you are indestructible. A true immovable object, and an unstoppable force. No man could stand in your way, even the Emperor."

Onyx turned to see the final Jorrmund again. It was visibly tiring, and beginning to fall.
"This is your power. Your might. Your fist. Not the Emperor's, not the Imperium's."

"And what of my men?" Onyx responded.
"Are they not of mention?"

"They are your sons. It is only natural they inherit your incredible power."

The red marine positioned himself next to Onyx, and the two watched the final giant fall.

"The Emperor wishes to control you. Your power. His wishes are against your own, and as long as you remain under his yoke you will suffer the whip. The Emperor is weak, a false idol. He will lead you to disaster, and all of humanity will left to crawl among the remains of his failed "empire". Only a pathetic fool would follow such a weakling."

Onyx turned and thrust his fist into the figure's gut. The red marine was thrown from his feet, his armor was fractured, and blood leaked from the cracks. 

"It is not wise to insult a man's father, lest you suffer the wrath if his sons." 

The red marine choked on blood as his helmet and rebreather began to overflow with red ichor. Onyx pondered helping, or just killing him outright. Then the marine stood up. 

"I've had enough of your excuses, astartes, so you can cast off that thin shroud of justice and morality you cling to. Embrace the bloodthirst that hungers within you; your need to kill is so overwhelming I can smell it. why do you continue to supress it?"

Onyx clenched his fists and his teeth, and charged at the red marine. The marine moved unnaturally fast, and struck Onyx in the jaw. Blood ran from his lip, and stained his white beard. Onyx laid against a rock, his jaw stinging with pain. How this... thing could manage to hurt him so easily was unthinkable to Onyx. He was disoriented, and came to just as a chainaxe descended from above him. Onyx rolled out of the way, narrowly escaping the spinning blade. He charged at the monster, grabbed the chainaxe, attempting to disarm the red being. As Onyx struggled, he realized the marine's  appearance had changed. His many gold medals had morphed into various ghoulish trinkets and bones. His armor was covered in blood and viscera, and his mask had a haunting expression imprinted on it. His eyes glowed red, like a near-dead sun ready to burst.  
The red beast flung Onyx back, and raised his chainaxe.

"YOU DARE ATTACK ME IN MY OWN REALM? THE REALM OF CHAOS? I WILL MAKE YOU SUFFER BEYOND COMPREHENSION; I WILL MAKE YOU DIE A THOUSAND DEATHS OVER A THOUSAND EONS. YOU WILL KNOW FEAR, FOR I WILL TEACH IT TO YOU."

The chainaxe descended, then stopped. Onyx had grabbed the blade. His hands were hot with his blood, and his muscle strained against the massive bulk before him.

"No, daemon, know this; You were foolish to underestimate me."

Onyx pulled with his remaining strength, until the red behemoth finally gave way. Onyx ran at the stunned monster, and thrust the hilt through the downed beast's skull. 
The world began to crumble around him, as the currents and floes of the warp tore alart his vision and engulfed him.

Onyx awoke from his delusion covered in sweat, and collapsed to the floor. He struggled to his knees, gasping for breath as he called for his attendant to bring him a flask of water. He was shaken, perhaps even more than on Jormungand. He had won, defeated his spectral assailant; but at what consequence?

===Gray and Gold===
“Brennus! I must admit I was surprised when you called me to your ship while the planet is yet won, but here, to this forge? This does not seem like one of your celebrations.”

Brennus shook his head. “It is no celebration, brother. A...matter has arisen which I must call to your attention, privately.” He gestured to a small table near the wall, away from the massive bellows and the clutter of tools that dominated the workshop.

Aubrey sat, still puzzled. “Have my men shown some defect, or given offense?”

“No, hardly,” Brennus chuckled, sitting himself opposite his brother and pouring a measure of pale wine for both of them. “Your men are exemplary. You do not shy away from battle, but nor do you rush in as did the Emerald Doom. And giving your squad leaders medical training is wise indeed; the men to be healed must trust their healer, and you have made them close to the warriors they will treat.”

“You would not have called me here like this to pay compliments that could be spoken before any ears.” Aubrey took a draft of wine, and shuddered slightly. “This is powerful drink, brother. Do you wish me drunk before you reveal your purpose?”

Brennus sighed, drained his flagon, and gestured to the corner. “No Aubrey. But it may ease the blow. Sergeant?”

As Aubrey turned, Brennus noticed the way his brother's jaw seemed to nearly unhinge itself. The unhelmed Space Marine sergeant stepped from the dark corner he had occupied, along with his squad mates and a small group of the Horned Gods. But the marines were not what was so stunning about this gathering; surrounded by the wall of ceramite that was the Thunder Kings were a handful of strange, reptilian beings, each bearing a cloak with the sigil of the Eternal Zealots. They were unarmed, but the guns carried by their escorts were clearly not of legion make, and the damage sustained made it clear that these were the erstwhile allies whose corrosive fire had so piqued the High King's curiosity.

Brennus had, however inadvertently, discovered the presence of the Tarellian Auxiliary.

“Are you MAD, brother?!” The goblet flew into the wall, shattering into a thousand pieces, as Aubrey expressed his displeasure with his sibling. “Could you not simply leave well enough alone? Who have you told of this?! How many in your legion know that we have been shadowed by the Tarellians during this campaign?! Answer me!”

“Aubrey, my friend, be at ease.” Brennus, his hands out in a placating gesture, approached his brother. “As of this moment, none know of the incident save for you, I, and those of my legion here.” He indicated each member of the assembled legionaries in turn, finishing the movement at Ferdiad. “These are all men I know I can trust; you should know well to trust Ferdiad, given the amount of time you two have worked together.” He flashed the lopsided smile that would baffle so many, and placed a friendly hand on Aubrey's shoulder. “And I assume your own men know of their presence. But this can be kept as close to my chest as it needs to, brother. I have no desire to spread your secrets. But...”

“But what, Brennus?” Aubrey turned from his brother and toward the others in the room; Ferdiad caught a look in the primarch's eye that could have been anything from relief to terror. “Unless you wish to chastise me as did our father, I can see no purpose to this...confrontation.”

There was a deafening silence as Brennus collected his thoughts. “Brother, I...I simply do not understand. You know our father's beliefs on this subject. You must know of the history of our galaxy, and the depredations we have suffered at the hands of fomor like these. What could be your reasoning for associating with them? Do you not fear betrayal?”

Aubrey finally cracked a smile. “Fomor, brother? I am afraid I do not know this word.”

“Ahh. My apologies. On Alessia, the word is used to refer to a race of daemons of ages past. Their leader was a great monster, whose eye cast death wherever it glanced.” Brennus returned to the table and fetched another goblet, bringing it to his brother. “The hero who slew him became the god the tribes believe sired me. I will tell you the tale in full, another time.”

“So I see.” Aubrey sipped at the wine, and sighed aloud. “Imagine, brother, that when our father had come to Alessia, he denounced the race who raised you, who taught you everything, who sheltered you. He had no praise for the world of your founding, only admonishments against the only beings you had ever known. Would you so easily cast the men of Alessia aside? Would you give them no leave to prove themselves, to show that not all 'fomor' are treacherous, or monsters?”

His brother drank silently. These were not questions to which he had the answers.

“Brennus, I can tell that you do not approve. Do you feel no sympathy for these beings, who are but men in another shape?”

“Brother...” Aubrey turned to face Brennus as he continued to speak. “I will not chastise you for this. It is not my place to criticize, or scold you; I am not as Alexandri, with a heart of ice and stone. If you wish, I shall say nothing of this outside these doors, and nor shall my men. But, brother, if you will not cast these xenos from your service, then do me this favor: be on your guard. I should not like to see any of my siblings betrayed. Least of all those I would count as friends.”
	
Aubrey smiled, and returned his brother's earlier gesture, his hand lightly placed on the other primarch's shoulder. “I shall heed your words, my friend. Now, if we are finished, I would quite like to return my auxiliary to the surface with none the wiser.”

“I have but one more item, Aubrey.” Brennus strode over to his workbench, and selected a finely tooled leather belt from the clutter; as he returned, the Surgeon could see that there were two scabbards, each occupied by a combat knife, scaled for a primarch. “I have forged you a pair of rune blades. I call them Liath and Óir, or Gray and Gold in Alessian.” He held out the belt to his brother, showing the ornate buckle depicting the two fighting side by side on Centia, in the first battle of their campaign. “It would do me much honor if you would wear the blades in battle. Perhaps if you lose a sword, one will serve as a backup.”

Aubrey readily buckled the belt about his waist, adjusting the scabbards to rest just behind the hilts of his swords. “A precious gift indeed, my brother; many thanks. I shall strive to use them in a way that brings honor to us both.” As he drew Óir from it's sheath, and flipped the blade into the air, he grinned wickedly at his brother. “And now, Brennus, I believe that you and I have a planet still to conquer.”

Brennus smiled his lopsided smile once again, as his dear friend caught the blade and returned it to the sheath. “Lead on, Surgeon,” he laughed, slapping Aubrey on the back. “Lead on.”