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Imperial Calender Date, 1 150 428.M38

124 standard days since the declaration of the Avernus crusade

Munitorium crusade report AB-3302 on progress of Imperial advance to the office of the warmaster

Location: Avernus Sector, Planet designation Alpha-CXXII

conflict designation: Survey & secure,

Status communicate: behind schedule...... progress stalled..... Resistance heavier than anticipated.

.......Resistance?

Affirmative. Native xenos. Strong, durable, warlike. Undetected until planetary foothold established. Standard Militarum firearms are ineffective. Situation is rapidly degrading.

.......Committed assets?

Four Imperial Guard regiments. Requesting Further immediate reinforcements. 

...... affirmative. Nearest Militarum regiments will be available in est. three standard weeks

Unnacceptable. Reinforcements needed immediately. Loss of Imperial foothold within one standard week at current rate of attrition. 

...... Affirmative, Routing aid request to Astartes strike force beta, Battle Barge designation 'Brightwing' Celestial Falcons chapter designation, estimated time of arrival...... four days. 

Acknowledged, forwarding relevant tactical data. In the Emperors name we stand our ground!

....... In His Glorious Name.......


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It was nearly a full day later before anything on board the brightwing was explained. The Lord Commander had shut himself into his personal chambers after receiving a heavily encoded astropathic message from the Astra Militarum Command. What was done in that room was his business but whatever his actions were they were taking the near constant attention of the astropathic choir to continue the line of communication and the course of the Brightwing was altered and the virgin chapter was now barrelling through the warp on a new heading. Searching still for that first opportunity to baptize itself in the fire and blood of honourable war. 

When the Lord Commander did break his silence and emerge from his self imposed solitude it was to call an immediate assembly of his most senior officers to the ships war-room. Wasting no time of his own and unwilling to let anyone else waste it for him. Whatever he had to announce was important.

Only when all notables on his chapter were assembled in the grand Cathedral like room, with its mighty arches, beautifully carved stone grotesques of various birds and angels and impossibly high windows that, if in real space would have provided a breathtaking view of the void and stars. Did he settle himself on one side of an equally ornate wooden desk. Easily as long as an astartes was tall and hand carved from some of the rarest natural fibres from the surface of Deliverance itself. Each leg was a fierce raven standing guard over he who sat behind them. Their wings spread to partially obscure the arcane technologies that produced the holographic images used for the Lord commanders review and tactical planning. 

The young lord commander stood over the table, arms splayed out to his sides and arrayed in full battle plate. Save his helmet which was in the arms of a dignified serf standing almost perfectly still so as to be camouflaged with the furniture around him. 

[color=yellow]“Brothers.”[/color] Tormon intoned in a deep astartes boom. [color=yellow]“Our day has finally come. We have been called to war!”[/color]