[center][h3][i]'Saint's Chariot' in Orbit above Forge Moon Amatheus[/i][/h3][/center]

Amastov paced in his office as he waited to be told his generals were ready... things were not how he had hoped on the moon. In addition to the chaos incursion it seemed the... loyalist faction would be little better. His brother cleared his throat to get the Emperor's attention. "[i]Brother, most of your generals have arrived... they are approaching the bridge now.[/i]", Gregori simply nodded and quickly sped towards the large war-room, his brother and two Palace Protectorate in tow. He entered the room shortly before the arrival of the four of his generals who answered his summons; Corbec, Thamus, Tyros and the Lord Inquisitor. Missing both Captain Lattore and Lord Regent Karthis. He would have to start without them.

He nodded to them, "[color=fff200][i]And soon all your troops shall see combat. I bring news of the new front that will heavily impact our... strategies. It seems the Forge Moon has been at war with these foul invaders for some time... and they are losing. 90% of the planet is in the hands of the Archenemy and they have the intent to use it. Luckily, the Moon's hub, Manufactorum alpha, lays yet in the hands of Loyalist Techpriests and their Leigons Skitarii.[/i][/color]", he let the good news wash over his generals, before taking in a deep breath to break to them the not so good news.

"[color=fff200][i]In fact, we have received a vox transmission from the Loyalists leader.[/i][/color]", with a click of a button a servo skull descended from  the ceiling and, with an opening Crackle of static, relayed the message.

"[color=ed1c24][i]++To the unknown ships in Orbit, this is Magos Dominus Xerxes Fekten, remain in orbit. You are now trespassing in Space owned by the Adeptus Mechanicus and, if loyal Imperium subjects you be, you will respect our laws and protocol. As a sign of good faith we have not opened fire with orbital batteries and have conducted thorough scans of your vessels. Minor anomalies have been found in their machine spirits. A small, lightly armed delegation will be received from you in 07:00 Standard Terran hours or we will assume you to be hostile and you will not be permitted to land. The group may consist of no more than 15 individuals of a specific combination. No more than 10 may be armed guards. You must include 1: Your leader. 2: A military Co-ordinator. 3: A representative of the Imperial Creed and Faith. 4: A representative of the Cult Mechanicus. 5: A final delegate of your choosing. The five delegates may not be armed in any way.

We will discuss your recent involvement in this war, and the anomalies in your ships. Pray to the Omnissiah you are not found wanting.++[/i][/color]'

With that the transmission cut. A stony faced Gregori looked around the table before speaking again, giving them all time to absorb what they had just heard.

"[color=fff200][i]Magos Dominus Xerxes Fekten is... ancient. We are lucky to have records on a Tech priest of his exact name in our records, though if he is indeed the same Fekten he is undeniably ancient beyond recognition, likely sustained by heavy cybernetic enhancement if not genetic-revivification. Xerxes Fekten was noted for his extremely puritanical outlook and opinion on the technology of man, a fanatic in every way to his creed. Unfortunately it is possible that certain parts of our fleet and ground forces could... offend his sensibilities and he would register us as foes alongside the Archenemy. This has become and undeniably delicate political and military situation. If we wish to aquire the forges of this installation in one war rather than two and with minimal casualties and collateral damage we [b]must[/b] convince Fekten to join the Imperium Reborn and accept our proffered aid.[/i][/color]"

He looked around the room, waiting for questions. Once addressed, he moved on.

"[color=fff200][i]As for our true enemy, luckily most of their forces appear to simply be heretical cultists rather than any traitorous Mechanicus element. This leads us to believe that the only reason Xerxes has lost his much ground is due to weight of numbers, but we of course cannot be sure at this stage. Corbec I want you to deploy troops in a defensive ring around this 'Manufactorum Prime' as a sign of trust. I must insist less than a fourth of your forces deploy, lest Xerxes believe we are planning to attack him... or perhaps not... wh-where is Captain Lattore and Regent Karthis?![/i][/color]", he asked angrily, wanting to know why two important figures were not at this meeting.

It would be then that an aide of Lord corbec would hand him a small dataslate, detailing the launch of multiple Astartes gunships from the Relictors Star fort, as well as knowledge of an open Vox transmission from Lord Regent Karthis' ship to the planet below. 

[center][h3][i]Forge Moon Amatheus, Surface[/i][/h3][/center]

Captain Lattore and his men would be beset on all sides. After the initial confusion of more marines arriving the heretical cults would quickly converge on the exposed Astartes. They were cut down in droves, mutants and traitors falling to daemonic blade and bolter shell leveled at them by the Space Marines in grey. Even so, they would find themselves completely outnumbered, slowly the cults and mutants pushing in, forcing the marines and their vehicles towards Manufactorum Prime. If the Marines refused to pull back they would become surrounded and have to hope for a rescue for even a Marine can be overwhelmed through sheer wait of numbers, and the hordes seemed endless.

What would the Captain decide? He could retreat towards the Manufactorum, where better ground and possible allies were... or enemies. Lattore knew not of Xerxes or his rampant puritan outlook, and the manufactorum was surely a better position. But the pride of an Astarte's is great indeed, perhaps he could indeed hold this position, gaining a beach-head within the enemies front-line for the coming reclamation? His combat starved Astartes fought all the harder now that they could, and against their greatest foe no less. Perhaps his men needed this... perhaps their fury could prevail? Or perhaps assistance was closer than Lattore knew... as bionic eyes crossed the field to find the embattled Astartes from afar, great mechanical legs capable of quick movement...

But Lattore could know not of this. Strategy and safety, or pride and glory. In which direction would the Captain lead? Indulge his men and risk their lives, or embrace superior tactics and earn scowls from marines only whetting their appetite. It was in the hands of the Captain now.

[center][h3][i]Forge World Amtheus, the Dark manufactorum[/i][/h3][/center]

The small cabal of Hereteks bickered and argued. Their grating binary filled the air, the transmission of a 'Lord Karthis' and the destruction of the most recent supply fleet upsetting them greatly. Not that Marix cared. His great, power armoured bulk sat across from the dark council as he tapped his finger impatiently, his men standing behind him and scanning the room with their eyes and boltguns. Finally, he decided to end this ridiculous bickering.

"[color=004b80][i]Gentlemen, Gentlemen please... your giving me a headache.[/i][/color]", he snarled, instantly quieting the half machine men.

He slouched back in his chair lazily, "[color=004b80][i]This is but a minor annoyance. The supply fleet already disgorged its men, ammunition, food and other supplies before being so easily driven off. This new development shall be handled with ease, I shall attend to these... interlopers personally once they have decided to land. After all, that [b]is[/b] what I was hired for, t-[/i][/color]"

he was cut off by one of the Dark Heretek Council, "[i]++You were hired to rid us of these cursed Wolves. But you have instead simply supplied them with further fodder! You have done nothing but sit in our Sanctum an-[/i]"

in a blur the Marine had hurled his hand over the table, the power claw stoping with its fingers just shy of slicing the offending Heretek's head from his shoulders. The techno monstrosity shivered in fear as the scything blades sat snugly against his tainted flesh, several long and shallow cuts had been torn into his neck, blackened blood tinged with oil and sludge drooling from the open wounds. They stung, but it was the Chaos Space Marines face he most feared.

A learing, predatory smile crossed his lips, his eyes mere pinpoints from his pale face, as if looking at a slab of meat ready to be devoured.

"[color=004b80][i]And I will [b]kill[/b] the wolves as ordered when I am ready. Now, my fee will triple if you want me to deal with these interlopers as well... do I make myself clear?[/i][/color]", he sneered.

The Heretek nodded fearfully, causing the massive marine to draw back laughing heartily, ending with a sigh as he again slouched back in his chair.

"[color=004b80][i]Good good... now, lets talk just what 'triple' means shall we?[/i][/color]"