BY THE LION'S COMMAND
GAV THORPE

'Seneschal, do we open fire?'
Chapter Master Belath's question cut across the din of warning klaxons. Corswain tore his eyes from the sensor display, away from the runes that showed traitor ships arrowing towards the centre of the fleet like a spear aimed for his heart. Signal returns confirmed that they were the same Death Guard ships that he had chased across twelve devastated star systems.
'What are the separatists doing?' the seneschal demanded as he looked to Urizel, who was overseeing the augury consoles.
'Their vessels are powering up, seneschal. No locking scans detected,' The legionary leaned over the wasted forms of the slaved servitors to examine the main screen. 'Reactor spikes in the orbital stations. Weapons are arming. Torpedo tubes are closed.'
Corswain took the news without comment while Belath paced back and forth across the quarterdeck of the strategium, whispering curses.
'If you have something to say,' Corswain muttered, 'then speak it.' 
'I was merely regretting the decision to come to Argeus without the full Legion, seneschal,' Belath replied, regaining his composure.
'My decision, you mean. You raised little objection at the command council.'
'With respect, seneschal, it is of no consequence how we come to be here. Do we open fire on the separatists? We cannot allow them the first volley,'
Corswain turned. 'Do not open fire! Manoeuvre the fleet to counter the Death Guard approach. All ships to reform on our position.' 
'That will bring more of the fleet into range of the orbital platforms and expose us to the rebels,' Belath protested.
'I issued an order, Chapter Master. I did not invite opinion. We will meet the Death Guard in battle.'
'But the rebels-'
'President-General Remercus has observed the agreed truce thus far. If the separatists wished to attack us, they have already had ample opportunity:
'Unless they were waiting for something.'
'Carry out my orders.' Corswain did not shout, but his curt tone forestalled any further debate.
Belath nodded reluctantly and moved to the communications array to one side of the command deck. From here he relayed the order to the other eleven Dark Angels vessels currently standing off from the so-called 'Free Army of Terra Nullius'.
It was not the first time that the Dark Angels had encountered a world that had ceded from the Imperium and yet not dedicated itself to Horus; it was, however, the most military. Seven capital ships and transports for more than three hundred thousand men had gathered at this proclaimed safe haven. It was a force that could conquer whole systems, idly waiting for the civil war to resolve itself.
On the display, the lead ships of the Death Guard fleet approached the outlying Dark Angels vessels. The three smaller escort ships retreated towards the strike cruisers and battle-barges of the main fleet, speeding out of range before they came under any fire.
It was no satisfaction to Corswain that the Librarians' telepathic auguries of the traitor fleet's location had been proven true. If only he had shown more faith in their abilities, then he would not now be outnumbered and out of position between two potential foes.
'Communications - send priority transmission to the President-General. Redirect to my quarters.'
Belath frowned. 'You're leaving the strategium?'
'You may be new to the command of the Second Order, Chapter Master, but I have every confidence you will respond properly to this attack. I have other matters that demand my attention.'
As Corswain departed the strategium, two legionaries from his personal guard fell in behind their commander. He stopped to address them.
'Return to the command deck to assist Chapter Master Belath. Be sure to remind him that he is not to fire on the Free Army, or their orbital stations, unless they directly target us.'
The Space Marines saluted in acknowledgement and turned away, leaving Corswain to walk unattended. His kept the vox-channel open to monitor the unfolding fleet action - in the two minutes it took him to reach the door of his personal chambers, the Death Guard had broken off their headlong rush, having failed to take the pickets unawares with their ambush. It seemed that they were regrouping for a more concerted thrust towards the Dark Angels.
As the door hissed closed behind him, Corswain slumped against the wall beside it, his armour whining as it strove to match his sagging frame. The seneschal closed his eyes and rested his head against the bare metal, trying to think.
'A foolish errand,' he muttered, echoing the words Grand Master Haradin had spoken at the council.
Perhaps it had been foolish, but the council had demanded - albeit in a veiled manner - that Corswain take the lead.

A sharp crack cut through the raised voices as Corswain slammed his sheathed sword onto the worn wood of the table. The Seneschal of the Dark Angels glared at the assembled Masters of the Legion.
'Shouting at cross-purposes gets us nowhere.'
Silenced for the moment, the eight commanders sat back in their seats, glowering at one another. Corswain took a breath and looked to each of them in turn. They regarded him warily.
'What else would you have me do?' he demanded. 'The Lion's last command, a command he gave to me in person, was to bring word of his actions to Lord Russ of the Space Wolves, and to engage the enemy wherever possible.' 
'The enemy are to be found everywhere, Russ nowhere,' said Haradin, Grand Master of the Third Order. Two of his Chapter Masters, Nerael and Zanthus, nodded their approval. 'Was it really the Lion's intent to split the Legion over so many systems?'
'We are but fifteen thousand light years from Caliban,' said Astrovel, Fourth Chapter Master of the Seventh Order. 'We should see first to the defence of our home world.' He shook his head, his scarred face grim. 'The Lion would give us short regard if we chased after this Death Guard traitor, only to allow the foe to fall upon Caliban as they have hundreds of other worlds.' 
'We chase shadows,' said Haradin. 'A dozen systems we have scoured for this foe, and we find each in uproar or destroyed, tainted by his presence. He leads us away from the strength of the Death Guard on purpose - I would swear to it.'
Corswain looked to his right, where Dalmeon stood to one side of the council, and the Librarian stepped closer to the table at a gesture from the seneschal. 'l cannot divine his intent, but we have had some success in finding his location. There are certain portents that we believe point to Typhon's next target. The warp is in turmoil, riven by the powers of darkness, and wherever we look we see destruction and despair. Despite this, our auguries point to the Argeus system, some two hundred light years from our present position.' 
'Thank you, Dalmeon.' Corswain looked at the other commanders. 'We cannot know where Mortarion and the rest of the Death Guard linger, but we have unfinished business with Typhon.'
'Surely you don't intend to move all of our forces on this evidence?' said Haradin. 'With no offence to our brother Librarian, such visions could amount to nothing. A foolish errand.'
'You are right,' Corswain sighed, lifting his sword from the table and hooking it back onto his belt. 'Warp-scrying has never been an exact art.' 
'The empyrean is a fickle power,' said Astrovel, regarding Dalmeon with narrowed eyes. 'It was for good reason that the Emperor forbade the use of such... talents.'
'That matter was settled by the Lion,' said Corswain. 'Needs dictate a new perspective.'
'A perspective Brother-Redemptor Nemiel did not share,' said Astwvel. 'I would not countermand the will of the Lion, but we cannot know his full intent in such matters.'
'I think the Lion made his position perfectly clear,' said Haradin. 'At least, there is no further argument from Nemiel, is there?'
'This gossip is pointless,' snapped Corswain. 'Were the Lion here, such words would not flow so easily from your lips, Grand Master. I am his authority now - you will show me equal respect.'
'So I ask again, what do you intend for the Legion?' asked Haradin. 'This is the third council you have brought me to, and yet our objective is no clearer and no closer than before the first.'
'Watch your tongue, brother,' glowered Belath, newly promoted to command of the Second Order. 'Your accusations are not needed here. The Lion named Corswain as his second. Surely you do not dispute the wishes of the primarch?'
Haradin stared in silence at him. Corswain knew the veteran Grand Master's words had not been intended as an insult - simply a goad for him to make a decision. Corswain felt the gazes of the council upon him and wondered why the Lion had chosen him for this task; he wished that another had been placed in command. But that was not to be, and Corswain had sworn to his primarch that he would lead in his stead. A decision had to be made.
'You are right,' Corswain said again, directing his words to Haradin. 'To send the whole fleet on such scant information would be foolish. The Legion will break by Orders, and I will travel with Belath and the Second. We will move to Argeus to find the truth of the matter, with force sufficient for the
task if Typhon is to be found there. The rest of you will continue our search of the neighbouring systems, to locate the Space Wolves or bring the fight to the enemy as you find them.'
'That is your command?' asked Haradin, looking unconvinced.
'It is,' said Corswain. 'Spread word to the rest of the Legion. The fleet will disperse in twelve hours.'
The Grand Master shrugged. 'As you order, seneschal, so we will obey.'

'Seneschal, we have contact with President-General Remercus.' 
Corswain opened his eyes and strode across the small antechamber to the communications monitor. He entered his cipher code and the screen flickered into life, revealing the face of the separatists' leader.
When Corswain had first met him, Remercus had seemed surprisingly young; a slight man no more than forty Terran years of age. His hair was cut short, but there were threads of grey in his carefully trimmed beard.
'As I predicted, you have brought your war to Terra Nullius, Corswain. I warned you that your presence here made mockery of our neutrality.' 
'The Death Guard were already here,' Corswain replied, keeping his temper in check. 'It is convenient, is it not, that they eluded detection by your fleet.' 
'I do not doubt that the eyes of the Legiones Astartes can see into every asteroid field and dust cloud, but those of the Free Army cannot. Perhaps they followed your fleet to the system. I find it a remarkable coincidence that both the Dark Angels and Death Guard happen upon our world in such a short space of time.'
'It is no coincidence, Remercus. We have hunted this fleet for a hundred days. We would have brought them to battle somewhere. Perhaps the greater coincidence is finding them here where so many ships and soldiers of the Imperium stand idle.'
'We have debated this before; do you wish to have the same arguments again, Corswain? Terra Nullius is not interested in this war waged amongst the Legions. If either fleet attempts to land troops on our planet, we will protect ourselves.'
The internal vox-link crackled into life before Corswain could reply, temporarily muting the President-General. It was Belath.
'Seneschal, the Death Guard are five minutes from effective range. The fleet is performing defensive manoeuvres but it would be wise to launch a pre-emptive strike. They outgun us, Corswain. We cannot allow them to gain the upper hand in position as well.'
Corswain sighed. 'Remain within range of the orbital batteries. Launch anti-torpedo drones and attack craft. Manoeuvre for line of engagement.'
'We have little room to move, seneschal. To form a line of battle will take us into the Free Army vessels. We waste time while you treat with these rebels.'
'I am fully aware of the strategic situation, Chapter Master, and I will judge the best use of my time. Execute my commands.'
Corswain severed the link and turned his attention back to the President-General.
'Time is pressing, so I will be frank. There is no neutrality in this war. There are no bystanders. You say it is waged by the Legiones Astartes. Perhaps, but billions have died already that did not seek conflict.' 
'Is that a threat, Seneschal Corswain of the Dark Angels?'
Remercus looked away for a moment and exchanged words with someone, too quietly for Corswain to hear over the transmission. When he turned back to the communicator, his eyes were wide with anger.
'You move your ships towards my fleet? A cowardly tactic, using poorly armed transports as shields against your enemies. You show your true colours too soon, Corswain. Just as during the Great Crusade, you will build your victory upon the bodies of much humbler men.'
'Countless dead legionaries would stand as argument to that accusation.' Corswain replied, riled by the implication of Remercus's words. 'How many of my brothers lie dead thanks to the frailties of the humble? How many of my brothers laid down their lives to stem a breach in the line opened by fleeing cowards, or died in the first assault so that Imperial Army regiments could advance uncontested? You know your words are as empty as the promises of Horus.'
'I have heard no such promises, if that is your meaning. What manner of man are you that you so desire war you cannot comprehend the motives of those of us who would desire a life without it?'
Another report from Belath punctured Corswain's indignation, giving him a moment to collect his thoughts. 'Seneschal, the Free Army ships are dispersing.'
'The Death Guard should be your only concern, Chapter Master. What are they doing?'
'Forming up for an attack against our line. We need to turn and match them, or they will be able to concentrate their firepower on one part of the fleet.'
'What heading?'
'Seneschal?'
'On what heading are the Death Guard approaching, Chapter Master? Against which part of the fleet will they bring their attack to bear?' There was a pause while Belath retrieved this information.
'They are coming for us, seneschal. Wrath's Descent would appear to be at the centre of their attack axis. We should bring the vanguard about to support.' 
'All ships are to remain on course as previously ordered. The Death Guard attack is a feint. They would not dare to come within range of the orbital batteries.'
'Is it wise to rely on the separatists, seneschal? Their ships make no move to counter the Death Guard approach.'
'I am not relying on the Free Army, Belath, I am depending upon the tactical instincts of our foe. Only a madman would dare engage an enemy under the cover of orbital defences. The Death Guard commander is trying to force us into a direct clash, which would bring us out of range of the batteries.'
'Is that a gamble we can risk? What assurance have you had that the rebels are not at this very moment in communication with the enemy commander?' 
'Superior wisdom will prevail, Chapter Master. Do not forget the lessons of the spiral, though the teaching may have fallen out of favour of late. One must bring the enemy close, into one's own ground, to ensure victory.'
'I fail to see the relevance of the lesson in this situation, seneschal. Surely it would be wiser to meet force with equal force? If we cannot, then- Damn, incoming torpedoes!'
The vox went dead, and a moment later the warning sirens wailed, alerting the crew to brace for impact. Corswain overrode the alarm inside his chambers and restored the link to Remercus.
'I am not sure I have your full attention, Seneschal Corswain,' said the President-General.
'You do not, Remercus.' The situation lent haste to his words and Corswain's patience was worn thin by the man's insolence. 'My fleet is under attack from a traitor force. A force you are aiding by your continued inaction. Emperor damn you, will you sit there and watch us be destroyed?'
'I have no choice,' said Remercus, his regret seemingly genuine. He dolefully shook his head. 'What am I to do? If I aid the Dark Angels now, we make ourselves enemies of the Death Guard. If we come to the assistance of Mortarion's Legion, then your battle-brothers will not be slow in seeking vengeance. The galaxy burns, seneschal, and we are all caught up in the flames. But if we are patient we can pass through this conflagration, if not unscathed, then at least alive.'
Corswain sought a retort to Remercus's honest assessment of the situation, but one did not spring to mind. The galaxy had ever been divided into two camps for him: those to fight against, and those to fight alongside. He thought of the Night Lords - of how he had spent time studying them, and had considered them allies even though their methods had seemed alien and barbarous. Though he had been as shocked as any by Horus's treachery, he had not been surprised by Curze's faithlessness.
Ally had so easily become enemy.
Now he was confronted with the possibility that there was a third view, a grey area that contained neither friend nor foe. When the Lion had told him that matters were more complex than Corswain could imagine, perhaps it had been a situation such as this that the primarch had foreseen.

'We are living in complex times, Cor, and there is no easy division between those who fight on our side and those who fight against us. Antagonism towards Horus and his Legions no longer guarantees fealty to the Emperor. There are other powers exercising their right to dominion.'
'I don't understand, my liege,' confessed Corswain. 'Who else would one swear loyalty to, other than Horus or the Emperor?'
'Tell me, whom do you serve?' the Lion asked in reply to the question.
Corswain replied immediately, drawing himself up straight as if accused. 'Terra, my liege, and the cause of the Emperor.'
'And what of your oaths to me, little brother?' The Lion's voice was quiet, contemplative. 'Are you not loyal to the Dark Angels?'
'Of course, my liege!' Corswain was taken aback by the suggestion that he might think otherwise.
'And so there are other forces whose foremost concern is their primarch and Legion, and for some perhaps not even that,' the Lion explained. 'If I told you we were to abandon any pretence of defending Terra, what would you say?' 
'Please do not joke about such things,' Corswain muttered, shaking his head. 'We cannot allow Horus to prevail in this war.'
'Who said I was talking about Horus... ?'
The primarch closed his eyes, and rubbed his brow for a few moments. Then he looked at Corswain, gauging his mettle. 'It is not for you to concern yourself, little brother. Prepare the task force, and let greater burdens sit upon my shoulders alone.'

That burden now rested firmly upon Corswain's shoulders, too. It been hard to watch the Lion leave, but the seneschal had understood, as best he could, the reasons for the primarch's departure. Events unfolding on the Eastern Fringe could not be ignored, and maybe presented as much of a threat to the Emperor as Horus's own treachery. Or so the Lion had implied.
The first time he had assembled the command council, the seneschal had asked himself what the Lion would do in the same situation. It had been a fruitless exercise. Corswain believed that he knew his primarch better than most, but the Lion's thoughts and strategies were as far beyond the seneschal's understanding as a human's to an insect. The primarchs saw the universe in ways he never could, and to second-guess their motivations was to invite endless frustration.
'No swift reply, Seneschal Corswain? No trite argument to persuade me of the merit of sacrificing my soldiers?'
Remercus snapped Corswain back from his thoughts, to the pressing matter. He could feel and hear the battle-barge trembling as cannons and missile banks opened fire to intercept the incoming torpedoes. The deck shuddered constantly beneath him as the gunnery decks unleashed their broadsides. The reality of it added urgency to his message.
'No, I see that you have not broken your oaths to the Imperium easily, President-General. It must be hard, feeling the pressure of so many lives weighing on every decision you make. The people of Terra Nullius are fortunate to have such a strong leader.'
'Sarcasm, seneschal?'
'No, I speak plainly. It is hard, is it not? To sit by and watch those who brought the Imperial Truth to the stars savage themselves for the ambitions and egos of a few. I envy you the luxury of inaction.'
'I do not understand,' said Remercus. 'It was your Warmaster that unleashed this terror.'
'The Warmaster, aye. Great Horus, raised up by the hand of the Emperor himself. How much safer you must feel to hide here from his war, trusting the fate of the galaxy to the efforts of others.' Remercus's reply was lost in static as the void shields flared. TheWrath's Descent shook under a series of impacts, forcing Corswain to steady himself with a hand upon the communications monitor. Klaxons blared again, signalling emergency crews to their stations.
'Chapter Master Belath, make your report.'
'Light damage only, seneschal. The Crusader has not fared so well - the strike cruiser took the full brunt of the salvo. Her shields are down, and she's suffered several hull breaches.'
'Have the Crusader lay into closer orbit, and reform the line.'
'Let us turn and respond with our own torpedoes! We will redirect their attack.'
'I have no intention of redirecting the attack, Chapter Master. If we turn, we will move out from the cover of the batteries, as I told you.'
'The protection of silent batteries is worthless!'
'Have faith, Belath.'
'Faith? In what?'
'If not in my skills of persuasion, which I understand might be lacking, have faith in common humanity.'
'It is common humanity that is sitting by while we come under attack. Even before they turned from the Emperor, these Free Army cowards were more burden than boon.'
Corswain shook his head. 'If you truly believe that, Chapter Master, then they would be right to leave us to settle our own conflict.'
'Apologies, I spoke out of turn.' Belath did not speak for several seconds though the link remained open. Then the Chapter Master growled with consternation. 'Their flagship is adjusting course to come alongside, seneschal. Signal identifiers confirm - it's the damnable Terminus Est.' 
This pronouncement, though expected, gave Corswain pause to doubt his choice of strategy. Not only was Typhon fully capable of daring the orbital defences if he sensed weakness, his battle-barge was one of the largest ever built, outgunning the Wrath's Descent by many decks.
'For good or ill, I have chosen our course and now we must see it through to the end. There is nothing to be gained by questioning ourselves. Recall attack craft to the landing bays, and have all repair crews standing by. I expect we will be suffering the full might of the enemy broadside shortly, as a precursor to boarding.'
'You sound very calm at the prospect, seneschal.'
It was true. Corswain felt no apprehension or excitement. His mind had been whirling, but now, faced with such grim inevitability, his thoughts had assumed a laser-like focus. He wondered if this was how the Lion's brain worked all of the time.
'I will not allow this ship to be boarded, Belath. If the enemy attempt to close, we will manoeuvre to counter-board. You and I will lead the attack.'
'As you command, seneschal,' replied Belath with, perhaps for the first time since the Death Guard had been sighted, something approaching conviction. 'I will spearhead the fore party, unless you wish that honour.'
'Aft assault will suit me fine, Chapter Master.'

Before he left his chamber, Corswain picked up the remote terminal for the communicator and plugged it in to his power armour's systems. He was four levels down, the corridors ringing with the thud of armoured boots as the Dark Angels mustered for the boarding action, when the link chimed to signal connection had been re-established with Argeus. Corswain spoke as he marched towards the portside sternwards mustering hall.
'I am surprised you have anything further to say, President-General. You have made your position and reasoning quite clear, and I'll warrant that no debate will change it.'
Corswain nodded in response to the salutes of his honour guard as they greeted him in the arming chamber. Several hundred legionaries were equipping themselves with specialised boarding gear: power halberds and combat shields for close-quarters fighting; breaching rounds and melta-charges for bulkhead destruction; gravity nets and chain-rasps for void actions.
'What did you mean, that others would decide the fate of the galaxy?' Remercus sounded more hesitant than before. 'Do you not believe that Horus's rebellion will be crushed?'
'I am not an optimist, President-General. The Arch-traitor has maintained the upper hand since the outset. I draw comfort from the fact that I will not likely live to see his victory, though I hope that my death may prevent it.'
'I would not expect such defeatism from a commander of the Legiones Astartes.' The President-General's voice seemed even more uncertain. 'Why speak of death?'
Corswain laughed, with genuine humour.
'I am preparing to board a vessel that doubtless is manned by a superior force, in the hope that I will at least slay its master, the traitor Typhon. Beyond that, I do not expect a single Dark Angels legionary to survive the coming encounter. It is my hope that the Death Guard, weakened by our attack, will be unable to press home the assault upon your world and the ships that orbit it.'
'You cannot know that that is their intent.'
Corswain drew his sword and twisted the blade left and right to inspect the keen edge for any burrs or nicks. There were none. He knew as much from painstaking maintenance, but the act was reassuring nonetheless.
'If you believe the Death Guard would respect your claims of neutrality, you are a bigger fool even than me. We conquered the galaxy for the Emperor and the Imperial Truth, President-General. Have no illusions - Horus plans to conquer it again in his own name. I hold no regrets over my part in the war. I hope you will have none either.' A dull rumble sounded along the battle-barge as it began a rolling broadside, prow to stem, growing louder and louder. It reverberated across the muster hall as the batteries in the deck below opened fire, masking Remercus's reply.
Moments later, the return bombardment from the Terminus Estsmashed into the Wrath's Descent. Despite the aegis of the void shields, the battle-barge was rocked by the impact of shells, missiles and plasma. The sheer violence of it almost threw Corswain from his feet.
'Regretfully, I must end my transmission, President-General. Be sure not to let the Death Guard land on your world - I have seen firsthand the misery that will surely follow.'
'Wait!' snapped Remercus. 'Wait a moment. Let me think.' 
'There is no more time to think, only time to act. I have already done so. When we first detected the Death Guard we had the opportunity to disengage from orbit, but that would have left your fleet vulnerable. I have moved your transports out of the path of the enemy and lured that foe into range of your orbital cannons. What you choose to do next is entirely on your own conscience.'
'This is a trick of some kind. You hope to force my hand with this blackmail?' 
'No trick, no blackmail or coercion. I go now to battle in the name of the Emperor, the Lion and the First Legion. I count myself fortunate to do so, for if the Imperium prevails then our memory, and sacrifice will be honoured.'
The huge gateways connecting the muster chamber to the launch bays opened, grinding apart on heavy rollers to reveal Thunderhawks and Stormbirds ready for launch. Corswain lifted his fist in signal to the Space Marines around him, but his words were lost as another salvo of fire crashed into the battle-barge. Bulkheads and braces overhead screeched and groaned from the punishment, but held firm.
Corswain steadied himself. 'In two minutes my attack craft will be en route to the enemy, and your fire will hit us as likely as them.'
'Then what would you have me do.'
'President-General - fire your damn guns now!'
Corswain pulled the remote transmitter from its socket and tossed it to the deck. 'Belath, what is your status?' he asked over the internal vox.
'Preparing to embark in thirty seconds. Pilots have been briefed with attack patterns. The fleet is reforming for the counter-attack.'
'See you aboard the Terminus Est, brother. Death to the enemies of the Emperor.'
'Aye. Death to them!'
Corswain was the last up the ramp of the Stormbird, his honour guard already secure in their harnesses. He made his way past them and took a seat in the specially fitted command cupola beside the cockpit.
'All attack craft, prepare for launch on my command.'
The throb of the gunship's engines increased in pitch as the pilot disengaged the docking anchors. Corswain was about to issue the launch signal when his vox-link chimed with an urgent incoming message. It was Urizel.
'Seneschal, the defence platforms are opening fire!' The sensorium captain laughed. 'They're targeting the Death Guard ships!'
Corswain absorbed this news without reaction, not sure that it came in time. He sat still for a moment, eyes closed. 'And the enemy? What are they doing?'
'Moving away, seneschal. The Death Guard are breaking off their attack.' 
Letting out a long breath, Corswain opened his eyes. He wanted to press the advantage while it was with him, but he knew that away from the orbital defences the Death Guard were more than the match of his ships. The Free Army vessels were too far away to intervene in any meaningful way.
'Signal the fleet. Withhold pursuit.' It pained him to say the words but he could not afford to sacrifice more of his brothers. Extended hostilities with the Night Lords had taken their toll, and with twenty thousand legionaries departed along with the Lion, the Dark Angels were a much lesser force than they had been three years earlier. 'Maintain stations. Stand down the launch.'

Belath's whole demeanour was contrite as he entered the chamber at Corswain's call. The Chapter Master kept his gaze lowered, hands clasped at his waist.
'I offer my sincerest apologies for my dissent, seneschal. It was disrespectful and unworthy.'
'It was,' agreed Corswain, folding his arms. His chair creaked as he leaned back. 'I am not the Lion. l cannot be the leader he is. Yet I do demand that my command is respected. l am the Primarch's Seneschal - his will and his voice. Do I make myself clear?'
'Absolutely, seneschal,' Belath bowed and then finally met Corswain's gaze. The Chapter Master smiled. 'You proved yourself worthy of the Lion's choice with the way you dealt with this encounter, l must confess, I thought for a time that your strategy of persuasion had failed.' 
'l was convinced it had, too,' said Corswain.
Belath's expression was a picture of shock. 'You mean that you truly intended to board the Terminus Est? It was not just a ploy to force the dissidents into allying with us?'
'I sought to deceive nobody. My intent was as I commanded it.' 
'I know that the primarch ordered that we engage the enemy at every turn, but were you really prepared to sacrifice us all for those damned separatists?' Belath became more incredulous. 'I admire your noble purpose, brother, but that stretches honour to breaking.'
'The Free Army can rot here alone, for all I care,' said Corswain. They are as bad as the traitors, and we cannot waste our resources on them. I didn't stay for the people of Argeus - I stayed for their transports and gunboats.'
The Chapter Master's expression conveyed his confusion better than any question.
'We need to regain our strength, Belath. We need more warrior.' 
'Not the Free Army? Three hundred thousand soldiers is no small force.'  
'Nothing compared to another twenty thousand legionaries.' Corswain enjoyed Belath's confused expression. 'You will commandeer the transports, under my authority, while I return to the Legion to continue the hunt for the Wolf.'
'And fill them how?' Belath unclasped his hands and spread them, showing empty palms. 'Where do you expect to find so many Space Marines armed and ready for war?'
Corswain smiled.
'Where they have been waiting for us for many years, Belath. On Caliban.'