[b]"Malgadon,"[/b] said Sorthraal, as he made way through the dark corridors of the [i]Heaven[/i]. [b]"You carry a heavy bolter."[/b]

[b]"Yes,"[/b] the marine behind him grunted, the belt feed of the weapon swaying with every one of his heavy steps. [b]"What of it?"[/b]

[b]"It will be close-quarters fighting."[/b]

[b]"And as Fourth Claw's devastator, I'll leave that up to you, Udan, Vorax and Bas while I help to achieve fire superiority from afar. What of it?"[/b]

[b]"Nothing. Nevermind."[/b]

[b]"If you say so,"[/b] Malgadon let it drop, ignoring the uncertainty in his brother's voice.

One of the Legion slaves bowed as they passed, dimming the light of his lamp pack in respect. "Greetings, my lords," he whispered humbly, although he was callously disregarded.