[b] Command Deck of [i]Magnus' Fury[/i] 
High Orbit above Sagarius, Paracelsus System[/b]

Sorcerer-Lord Dionysos strode out through the airlocks onto the Command Deck, his Rubic Marine followers gone as he approached the Throne of the ship. The Throne itself was empty, as the captain was busy making final preparations for leaving their anchor position. Off to the side of the Throne and standing by a holographic display of Ultima Segementum were Dionysos' two main confidants, Seer Uriel Gant and Magos Athir Orpheus. 

Being the most powerful seer of the Cordivae Cult Dionysos had access to, Uriel had been a close friend and ally alongside him for centuries, helping guide his actions with clear insights from Tzeentch and his Daemonic Court. The False-Emperor's ascension and the ensuing shockwave of psychic energy backlash had especially wounded Uriel's mind, rendering him incapable of anything for nearly a year while he was tended to, making his efforts in aiding the uprising minimal. Though now physically recovered, he was still not receiving clear insights from his meditations. True enough, scrying the strands of fate and peering into the future was a misty endeavour, but the visions and images he saw lately were often of so little coherency that it was almost impossible to form any sense of meaning out of them. Dionysos also privately suspected, along with other lesser members of the Cordivae Cult in his band, that Tzeentch and his Lords of Change' attention being focused on dealing with the new arrival of another rival God didn't help the matter. Either way, things would eventually change for the better, or worse in terms of Uriel's sight. That was the way of things.

As for Magos Athir, Dionysos treated him with a modicum of respect due to his position. Magi of the Dark Mechanicus were not exactly the easiest persons to obtain by the Traitor Legions, and their attention were often jealously bartered or fought for, with good reason as they were the only ones who knew how to not only properly maintain and build the weapons and apparatuses which they used to wage war against the Imperium, but also how best to turn them to the service of Chaos, or Tzeentch in this case. Athir had served with many different bands and Legions over centuries, and Dionysos was just his latest master, persuaded to join the Sorcerer's band with the promise of esoteric knowledge and artifacts which only they could provide. Dionysos knew that his loyalty was assured, so long as upheld his end of the bargain, Athir would stay by his end. It was the Magos' expertise which had restored and converted this vessel, and the other two battleships in their fleet to their service, along with overseeing the construction of the rest of the lesser vessels and planetary defences, after all.

Both turned to face Dionysos as he stepped over to them. Uriel embraced his brother while Athir bowed his head in curtsey. 

Dionysos addressed them: [b]"So, my friends, have what possibilities have we pondered over while I dawdled on the Grandmaster?"[/b]

Uriel responded first: [b]"My meditations have revealed little, as of late, my Lord. Though master Orpheus has found something that may be of interest over the long range comms."[/b]

Athir nodded, stepping up to the map. [b]"I have detected a communication coming from the planet Sigmus Prime, it was uncoded and appeared to have been deliberately broadcast as far across the system as possible. It is a call for help from the Mechanicus forces stationed there to aid in its defence from an Ork invasion. The planet is a forge-world, and I can almost guarantee that my loyalist cousins have some valuable equipment there. I bring it to your attention as a possible course of action that we may perhaps intervene in this conflict."[b] 

At the end of this, the Magos' mechanical eyes gleamed with malice, his lust for vengeance and chance to spoil and twist the pristine works of the Mechanicum obvious to Dionysos. The Lord-Sorcerer's mind was made up in a quick manner.

[b]"Your suggestion is noted, Magos. Though I will propose that we shall not proceed with it."[/b]

Magos Athir stepped back from the holographic projection, his mechanical features contorted in surprise. Footsteps approach from where Dionysos had come from, though they were infinitely lighter than the metallic thuds of power armour which members of the Thousand Sons usually made. Dionysos continued.

[b]"Do not be so disturbed, Athir. You know as well as I that a host such as ours cannot hope to fight a protracted war at the moment, as that one will likely become if the signal truly did broadcast throughout the segmentum. If we heard it, so did all of the other systems between here and there, systems filled with Xenos, lackeys of the False-Emperor, and perhaps even rival Legions whom prosecute the Long War besides us in their own, albeit misguided, ways. And I for one do not intend to waste the opportunity Tzeentch gave us by struggling with these other powers for a Forge world we cannot hope to hold, against a host of enemies we cannot hope to succeed against alone at the moment. Only fools fight battles they know they cannot win."[/b]

Agitated, but silenced, Magos Athir folded his arms and eyed Dionysos darkly. Uriel took up the reply.

[b]"Then what is your plan, Lord?"[/b]

Dionysos turns his head to his side as the source of the footsteps earlier approaches beside him. At half the height of the Sorcerer, the human was still imposing in his rune-marked carapace armour and blood stained cloak, his face covered by a mask with a respirator and an autogun slung over his back. He removed the mask and bowed out of respect, his face a grey pock-marked face with runes of Tzeentch traced onto it.

[b]"This is Carnelian Borion, the Seeker of the Reliquary and a field commander with a talent for the unconventional and subterfuge. He shall lead an operation that shall secure our future in this segmentum, should Tzeentch prove favourable to our plans, and tomorrow he'll take a sizeable contingent of our mortal forces to try and achieve that goal.[/b]

Magos Athir clenched his control staff tighter, infuriated at this evasive and seemingly ridiculous course of action.

[b]"That's good for him, what shall we do, Sorcerer-Lord?"[/b]

[b]"We shall be making a brief trip into the past, Magos. One must look behind before looking ahead."[/b]

With these cryptic words, Dionysos began laying out his plans in full.