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

==4-101-001-M42==
Azrael stared at the document on the table before him, letting its implications sink in. He knew he had to sign it. Still, it felt like he was abdicating more than his position. It felt like he was abandoning his responsibility.<br>
Lion El’Jonson had been specific in his careful appraisal of the chapter’s status after he returned from Terra. While he had been impressed both that the chapter had overcome so many obstacles in its path, and the fact that nearly two thirds of the Fallen were accounted for, he had been astonished and enraged by Azrael’s conduct during the opening weeks of the 13th Black Crusade and Gothic war. Both times he had been asked to help by the Imperial commanders leading the counteroffensives, and both times he had refused only until it was mentioned that Abbadon had Fallen among his ranks. El’Jonson had informed him in no uncertain terms that outright refusing calls for help when it was desperately needed was contrary to the standards to which he wanted his officers held; certainly when his refusal of the second request had stemmed solely from a desire to avoid the presence of Logan Grimnir.<br>
That said, he had understood that Azrael was simply living up to the standards and procedures of his predecessors going back to before the end of the Heresy. As such, he had done no more than “request” that Azrael accede his position as Chapter master and Keeper of the Truth back to its rightful Primarch.

Lion had probably not meant to outright censure him, but that didn’t take the barb out of the order. Still, what choice did he have? With a heavy sigh, he penned his name at the bottom of the document, formally resigning his position as head of the Dark Angels.<br>
El’Jonson himself was not present to witness his officer’s dilemma. He was busy staring into the depths of the cell at the bottom of the unsealed portions of the Rock. Lying on the cot inside was a withered husk of a man, chained to about a dozen different medical machines, which were clearly the only things keeping him sane and alive. It was all he could do to look at the former Astartes. They were once among the best of friends. He was Luther, formerly the second in command of the entire Legion, and the only living Space Marine to have survived the entire history of the Imperium without internment in a Dreadnought.<br>
Luther craned his head up a fraction to stare at El’Jonson, hovering outside the cell door. After blearily focusing on the Primarch outside, he sank back onto the pillow with a whimper. “It’s…about…time…”<br>
“It has been a while, Luther,” El’Jonson said faintly, gazing down at the prisoner through the cell door. He turned the key in the lock and slowly swung the massive metal slab inwards.

“I knew…my patience…would be…recognized…” Luther managed.<br>
“’Recognized?’” El’Jonson asked. “What exactly did you think I was going to do here?”<br>
“Not sure…now,” Luther croaked, a little life returning to his pallid skin as he tried to move. “You…came back…before…”<br>
“Yes, for a few days.” El’Jonson walked in, leaning on the wall and staring at his bed-ridden friend. “Things were rather hectic.”<br>
“Excuses,” Luther managed.<br>
“I have to wonder, old friend, what you hoped to gain. Why did you think your betrayal would be rewarded?” El’Jonson asked.<br>
“Rewards?...no…improvements, Lion,” Luther rasped. “Chaos offers much…”<br>
“Was it worth it?” Lion asked coldly.<br>
“Of course…not, Lion…”Luther said. He struggled to lift one atrophied hand, pointing out, beyond the walls of the Rock. “But it…was not I…who shattered…our home…”<br>
“It was you who made it necessary,” Lion said, condemnation dripping from his voice. “Was it guilt over that act that brought you to live over ten thousand years? Hmm?”<br>
“I sought…only…an end…” Luther said painfully.<br>
“Lies,” Lion said. “You could have killed yourself long ago if an end and an end alone is what you sought.” He leaned forward, a cruel smile twisting his lips. “You fear what awaits you on the other side of death, should it come for you in the absence of my forgiveness.”<br>
“Fear…death? You mistake me…Lion,” Luther said, anger coloring his reedy voice.<br>
“Do not lie to me again, Luther.” Lion walked over to the medical machines, staring at the readouts.<br>
“You lied…to the Emperor,” Luther said bitterly. El’Jonson cocked his eyebrow.<br>
“Did I?”<br>
“You waited…with your ships…to see if Horus would win…before committing…at Terra,” Luther accused, his eyes burning.

“Foolishness.” El’Jonson ran his hands over the life-support equipment.<br>
“Why else…brother?” Luther snarled, the task of speaking so much clearly taking its toll.<br>
El’Jonson paused his inspection, appearing to think over the question. “A reasonable question.” He turned to the withered old man, measuring his words with greater care. “I knew…Horus and Father would meet. It was unavoidable. Completely unavoidable. Horus would have hacked and cut his way through ten thousand Custodes and a million Army men to reach father. And Dorn and I both understood that Terra was the fated place of their meeting, and no fortification on his part would prevent that.” For a moment, his eyes turned down, in recrimination or anger.<br> “Sanguinius, for all his foresight, did not. He was determined to prove that that arrogant fool Horus was salvageable.”<br>
El’Jonson walked back to the door and closed it, still lost in thought. “But I knew. I think Jaghatai didn’t see it. Dorn did. Ferrus would have.” Lion turned to Luther and pierced him with his stare. “I could have arrived sooner. But what if I had? What if Leman, Vulkan, Corax, Roboute, and I had all arrived, with the fullest strength of our armies and our ships and our killing machines? What then, Luther? How would it have ended?”<br>
“You tell me…brother,” Luther said coldly.

“I will.” Lion turned back to the machines, carefully examining each one in turn. “You see, Horus, for all his Chaos-fuelled rage, was not without strategic foresight. He knew what the full strength of our legions arriving would have meant. That, I understand, is why he lowered his shields to allow Father, Dorn, and Sanguinius aboard. He knew he had a material advantage. But…with Fulgrim exercising his depravities below, Perturabo off trading blows with Dorn, and Magnus out of commission, he couldn’t really exercise it. He had to end it. Then and there. Kill the Emperor or die trying.”<br>
“All the…more reason…for you to…speed your way…there, liar!” Luther said vindictively.<br>
“Still prattling about how I am the traitor, here, eh?” Lion said. He stared at the blank stone floor for a moment. “If I had arrived early, before the Emperor had a chance to kill Horus, then both sides would have lost less…but Horus would have lived. And ultimately, the resources it would have taken to kill him would have depleted the Imperium to such an extent that Lorgar and Perturabo would have simply conquered it whole. As it is, they have done nothing…NOTHING…for ten thousand years. Abbadon’s Crusades accomplish little save scarring the face of Cadia. Omegon’s twisted little schemes have hurt the Imperium, to be sure, but without his brother’s wisdom, he’s half of a whole.”<br>
“That’s IT?!” Luther managed, face colored with rage. “I waited…ten thousand years…for that? Excuses and ass-covering? Our…Emperor rots on…his Throne…because you…you wanted to see…them kill each other?” El’Jonson stared at the machines, refusing to look Luther in the eye. “It was…all of this…was just as you wanted? [[Just as planned|Just…as planned]]?”

“OF COURSE NOT!” El’Jonson roared, his quiet rage boiling over completely. Luther recoiled at the sudden change in his former apprentice’s demeanor. “Do you think I WANT the Imperium to be a crumbling monolith of inefficiency? Do you think I WANT Dorn and Sanguinius to be dead? Do you think I planned YOU putting me in a bloody coma? Do you think I foresaw a betrayal BY MY OWN FORCES?!”<br>
“Why not?” Luther managed, his own anger lending him strength. “You forgot us here! You left us…to claim the glory…of the Crusade for yourself!”<br>
“I forgot NO ONE,” El’Jonson said, his voice dripping ice where fire had been. “And if you had not turned to Chaos and nearly slain me, the Imperium may well have weathered the madness of the Heresy unscathed. Or did you not think that perhaps several thousand of the oldest Dark Angels suddenly turning to Chaos, would have had ill effect? Your actions betray your claims.”<br>
“I did what I had to do…to punish your betrayal, or so I thought,” Luther said, his anger fading to bitterness and remorse.<br>
El’Jonson stared at him furiously. “Azrael tells me that you have pled for mercy and forgiveness – by my hand – for ten thousand years, Luther. Tell me, what part of your little diatribe there was supposed to lend itself to my favor?”

Luther glared at his student, their argument hanging in the air between them. Finally, he sagged down on the bed, his temper failing him. “I waited ten thousand years for your verdict. Deliver it.”<br>
“Very well.” Lion stood over the ailing Luther, looking levelly into his eyes. “I think you’ve suffered enough for one life.” Luther’s hazy eyes went wide. “I assure you, ten thousand years ago, I would have cleaved you in half for your foolishness, conspiracies, and weakness. But…” El’Jonson looked remorseful for a long moment. “Well…I was asleep the whole time, you know. In the Rock, below us. I had no idea what was going on out here. Ten thousand years of rest…compared to what Jaghatai, Corax, Russ, and Vulkan went through, that’s a vacation.”<br>
“Time taught you mercy…Lion?” Luther wheezed.<br>
“Oh no, no,” Lion said. “not at all. But…they suffered for ten thousand years, Luther. So did Father. I wouldn’t, even retroactively, wish that on my worst enemy. You.”<br>
“Mercy tempered with vitriol,” Luther croaked.<br>
“Something like that.” El’Jonson extracted a few small pieces of metal and glass, setting them down carefully on the medical equipment. Luther looked on with confusion. “Vulkan was sucked onto a daemon world and tortured for ten thousand years. It never quenched his flames, his love of life. Russ fought a losing battle in the Eye itself. It never broke him. Corax was forced into Fulgrim’s amusements. It didn’t shatter his mind. And Jaghatai…he was prey for the most wicked depredations of the Webway chronovortices for ten millennia. It never weakened him.” Lion slid the glass vials into the metal tube and screwed in another metal piece as a wicked-looking syringe began to form.

“I was asleep. Embraced in repose of slumber. While my brothers and friends killed each other by the armful above. While the Imperium eroded…perhaps for my absence. If I ever needed a reason to deny you your forgiveness, there it is. But like I said…” he noted, finishing his assembly, “you’ve suffered enough…in this life.” El’Jonson paused for a moment, then glanced over his shoulder at his former friend. “I don’t know what happens to those who repent their willingness to embrace Chaos after they die. But for what it’s worth…I think it would be right for me to forgive you.”<br>
“You do.” Luther said flatly.<br>
“Yes. Luther…I forgive you your transgression.” He tapped the tiny glass vial and ran the acceptor of the needle into it, flooding the chamber of the syringe with a sickly orange fluid.<br>
Luther sagged back into the bed, reeling. “I thought I’d feel better after hearing that…”<br>
“Let me help.” El’Jonson rammed the syringe into the catheter that bled its alchemical mixes into Luther’s shriveled arm. The mix of potent painkillers and narcotics in the vial was used to put Dreadnought occupants into comas that lasted up to a thousand years. For Luther, it was enough to kill him fifty times over. “Now go find out what the Chaos gods do to those who abandon their services…brother.” Luther’s eyes opened wide in shock, before slipping closed in impossible relaxation and pleasure, then his muscles went completely slack.<br>
El’Jonson watched dispassionately. “If only this stuff wasn’t so potent, it might have been possible to salvage your geneseed, Luther.” He shrugged callously, disassembling the syringe and dropping it into his pocket. “Oh well.” He turned off the medical equipment and lights in the room, leaving the door open. The Watchers who had maintained his body for ten thousand years would disassemble it and repurpose the room, with none save Azrael the wiser.

In the Great Hall, the air parted and folded, with a rush of purple mist. The Emperor’s massive form appeared, stepping out nonchalantly. “AZRAEL. GOOD TO SEE YOU. IS LION ABOUT?” he asked the kneeling Dark Angel.<br>
“He is, my Liege…and as per his request, I have acceded my title of Chapter master back to him,” Azrael said, hoping the Emperor wouldn’t hear his displeasure with that change.<br>
He did. “I SEE. WELL, THEN. TO WHICH POSITION HAVE YOU MOVED?”<br>
“Lord of the Deathwing, my Liege,” Azrael said.<br>
“AN HONORABLE ROLE. I’M SURE YOU…AH. LION. GOOD TO SEE YOU AS WELL.”<br>
“Father,” Lion said, nodding his head respectfully. “What brings you here again?” He closed the door of the Hall behind him, making his way over to the Emperor.<br>
“BUSINESS, I’M AFRAID. OUR TREATY WITH THE ELDAR IS SIGNED. ASSUMING ELDRAD BUYS IN. WHICH HE WILL. I’M HERE BECAUSE I WANT YOU TO LEAD OUR COUNTEROFFENSIVE AGAINST THE CHAOS FORCES THAT HAVE SWOOPED IN TO FILL THE GAP LEFT BY ABBADON.”<br>
Lion concealed his surprise well. “I would be honored. Our little excursions to Zargh and Terra were fine exercise. Tackling the Black Legion would be a fitting challenge.”<br>
“GOOD. ROBOUTE IS ALREADY BEGINNING THE ECONOMIC AND LOGISTICAL GROUNDWORK, AND THE FORCES WE DEPLOY WILL STAGE FROM NOCTURNE. VULKAN’S BEEN ACCOUNTED FOR, THANKFULLY.”<br>
“Oh. That’s…quite a relief, actually,” Lion said gratefully. “Did you manage to augur their Astropath?”<br>
“NO, SANGUINIUS DID.”<br>
Lion stared at the Emperor. “What?”<br>
“LONG STORY SHORT: HE FOUND A WAY BACK THANKS TO A MEMBER OF HIS GUARD WHO SACRIFICED HIMSELF AND SORCERY. IT WOULD BE HYPOCRITICAL OF ME TO BITCH ABOUT.”

“Such times, these,” Azrael muttered.<br>
“NO KIDDING. I EXPECT ANGRON HIMSELF TO BE IN CHARGE OF THE ASSAULT. FULGRIM’S LITTLE STUNT PROVED THAT TERRA WAS STILL VULNERABLE, EVEN WITH MY RETURN, AND HE’LL BE QUICK TO ONE-UP THE BROTHER HE ALWAYS HATED.”<br>
“Probably,” Lion said. “I have to wonder what Jaghatai and Leman will be doing.”<br>
“JAGHATAI’S BUSY REBUILDING THE RATHER SEVERE LOSSES THE SCARS SUFFERED AT ARMAGEDDON. RUSS IS BACK ON FENRIS, PREPARING THE WOLF BROTHERS FOR AN ALL-OUT SORTIE. I FEEL AWFUL ASKING HIM TO HEAD RIGHT BACK INTO THE EYE AFTER HE SPENT TEN THOUSAND YEARS THERE, THOUGH, SO I THINK HE’LL JUST BE SECOND WAVE.”<br>
“We’re hitting the Eye directly?” Lion asked in genuine surprise.<br>
“NO NO, SORRY, THAT WAS MISLEADING. YOU AREN’T GOING ANY-DAMN-WHERE NEAR IT. YOU’RE TAKING ON THE DARK MECHANICUS FORCES ABBADON LEFT BEHIND TO SPREAD THE OBLITERATOR VIRUS. THE ONLY ONE GOING NEAR THE EYE IS ME. ALSO I KIND OF PROMISED ISHA I’D HAVE TO KEEP ONE EAR OPEN FOR ROGUE TRADERS PUSHING THE EXODITES IN THE REGION AROUND TOO MUCH.”

Lion nodded, digesting that. “If I may, Father, I have another idea that may benefit the Imperium.”<br>
“DO TELL.”<br>
“If I understood Dante’s report correctly, there is another force in this galaxy that very seriously threatens the human race, in a way that Chaos doesn’t.”<br>
“OH, THE NECRONS? YES, IT’S A VERY SERIOUS THREAT, BUT SADLY I CAN’T DETECT THE SOULLESS VERMIN UNDERGROUND ANY BETTER NOW THAN I COULD BEFORE.”<br>
“No, Sire, not Necrons. The Tyranids. If we fail to stop them, all the victories we could ever wish for over Chaos will be meaningless,” Lion said carefully.<br>
“TRUE. WHAT DO YOU PROPOSE?”<br>
“Well, though it pains me to say it, Roboute and his Ultramarines would probably be best for battling them. Apparently they did a good job of it before.”<br>
“YEAH, THEY DID. ARE YOU SAYING I SHOULD GO HANDLE IT MYSELF?”<br>
“The only thing stopping the Guard and Astartes from beating them now is a simple lack of territory. The xenos occupy and strip every single planet they encounter, yes?”<br>
“RIGHT. WE’RE LOSING AVAILABLE BATTLEFIELDS FASTER THAN SOLDIERS.”<br>
“Right. If you were to go and, say, provide your personal leadership and power to the Guard forces fighting them now, you could tip the scales.”<br>
“ESPECIALLY WITH SAIM-HANN AND BIEL-TAN STOPPING THAT SCORCHED EARTH GARBAGE.” The Emperor thought it over. “GOOD CALL, LION. ALL RIGHT THEN. AS PER MY AUTHORITY, YOU ARE HEREBY BREVETTED TO WARMASTER OF THE COUNTER-DARK MECHANICUS TASK GROUP IN MY ABSENCE. I WILL RETURN WHEN NEEDED.”