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Port Daenaria - Nikaea Satellite Orbit

Perhaps the decree of the Emperor least important to the grander scale of matters discussed at the Council was to not put the terraforming of the Council-World to waste. As the Primachs and their legions prepared to leave the system, the explorator fleets of the Mechanicum remained to continue their duty of bringing the nascent world into line with general human habitation limits. Sekhmetara expected they would go beyond more than the barest necessity, such as to better make a statement of this world which already held its place in the annals of human history. The port was a symptom of that, a star port for a world which would not hold significant stellar traffic for some time. It was most likely that when the first wave of civil servants arrived, those who would administer the realm in the Emperor’s name, they would serve from the construct for some time, held on high above the early colonists actually breaking ground on the world below. A distasteful memory scoured across the Mithran Primach’s mind. That was how the foul cults of her homeworld had ruled, cults so similar to those she had found among their supposed allies on Praxia. She had burned them all the same, and should the same take root elsewhere she had but one fate to bring down upon them.

When she had arranged for the meeting to be called before the events of the final days of the council, between those Primachs willing and able to deploy immediately to face the growing crisis of rebellion and invasion in the Galactic North, she had expected to chair the proceedings, her Legion no doubt having the greatest intelligence and investment in the ongoing conflict. But now Daena was warmaster, the orbital upon which they stood named in honour of her elevation. Even if she had been willing to risk whatever sanctions ignoring such a declaration would cause, she would not wish to undermine her sister so soon after the Emperor’s will was made clear, no matter her distaste at being passed over. Her conflict was not with her sister. She pictured Daena’s features in her mind’s eye, overcoming the distressing images of pain and suffering which her memories of the Empire of the Scale had brought forth. The joy across her sister’s often troubled features as they had celebrated among the greatest lords of the Imperium but a few nights before. She was Sekhmetara, she could survive a slight.

She strode back from her view of the world itself. Not a warship, the great port had the luxury of true observation glass spanning one wall and the ceiling of the meeting hall, the lights of the stars joining the lumens in keeping the chamber lit. Only the Tears of Dawn were present for now, Sekhmetara departing the world below with something approaching undue haste. They had made this new locale their home for the time being, an honor guard of the Legion’s finest awaiting the arrival of the others to be presented to this chamber, delicacies of their homeworld arrayed alongside the strategic terminals that provided the dedicated material of the meeting upon the central dias. The primach herself paused to lift a handful of banku from a bowl, dipping the spiced corn-dough into a blaringly hot chilli paste to then consume, unusually the pristine primach allowing the trace of the paste to remain on her lips, savouring the homely burn for a few moments longer before correcting her appearance once more with the sweep of her tongue. She had brought her favoured cooks with her when she had left Mithra most recently, but still, her planned return home was always a moment of joy, not least for being able to taste the cuisine of her people once more. It was never quite the same when brought to life aboard the artificial homes of the Legions.

“Mother always warned me against too much of that.” Isabis’ words were honeyed as she recalled their childhood. All three of the siblings were present in the chamber, lounging where in  likely a number of minutes demigods would plan the tides of stellar war. While Sekhmetara herself was arrayed in her warplate and Kvasi the ceremonial military attire of the Mithran Knights, Isabis’s status as a remembrancer was shown in the simple robes of an Administratum adept, cut with a little additional flair. “Although I suppose concerns about you fitting into the family robes were made a little moot once you eclipsed eight feet.” The siblings’ tone had been delicate around their adopted divine sibling since the events of the council, and it refreshed all of them to fall back into the warmth of familiarity.

“You think that is why Mother wouldn’t refuse Sekhmetara Khafre seconds? I am sure it is more down to the child's temper only matching her appetite.” Kvasi grinned as he threw and caught the handle of one of the serving knives, perched as he was on the back of one of the grand assembly seats.

“If you had not noticed brother, the blessed children of the Emperor stand of greater stature than the rest of humanity who we valiantly serve.” Sekhmetara finally teased back, her playful tones of mischief finally returning in the company of her family, the Primach resting one hand on the back of the chair opposite to her adoptive brother, affixing him with the full force of her captivating eyes. “I had rather more growing to do.”

“And you think it is a coincidence your blessed sisters only come close to matching you in one direction.” Kvasi continued, pushing the boundary further as he made a motion with his hands which suggested verticality. Sekhmetara’s eyes narrowed, a flicker passing over her features which might suggest her adoptive brother had misstepped. A comparison to her sister was perhaps poorly timed given the cause of her recent troubled mood. The expression slipped, as with a flippant snort, the Primach threw a cup at her brother, the priceless gold bouncing off his head with a weighty clang that almost sent him off the back end of the chair.

“You cannot take Kvasi too seriously sister, he has been chasing skinny pale women all about the ballroom, and beyond if so I hear.” Isabis wiggled an eyebrow as she skirted the table, turning the round of teasing upon her brother instead.

“Ah? So the flames of war have sparked into passion? We can start writing the songs now.” Sekhmetara laughed, still steadied and braced with one hand on the chair as she joined her sister, the circle of sparring between the siblings turning once more.

“She is a fierce woman, and besides, not [i]that[/i] skinny.” The male held his ground, even as he recovered from nearly being upended by the force of his sister’s throw.

“Ha, I am sure she would be overjoyed to hear you coming to her defence so.” Isabis shook her head as she reached her brother’s side, pressing a hand to the strike point of the golden cup upon his forehead, finding no significant bruise or swelling, she ushered him off the back of the chair with scalding Mithran, finishing in Gothic; “Come, behave you two, we have the greatest of guests to attend to.” It was not simply premonition, the voxbead in Isabis jewellery crackling at her ear as the Honor Guard informed her the other invited Primachs and their accompanying attendants were short moments from arriving.

While the Tears of Dawn had moved their operations to the station hanging above the planet, the Night Watch had largely kept their operations happening aboard their ships in orbit, with the only things really going down to the planet in question being the information required for the discussions and work Micholi needed to do personally. As the Council started to wrap up, what little they had brought down to the surface was returned to orbit with Micholi being among the last. 

One of the reasons for his departure from NIkaea was the war council that his sister Sekhmetara had sought to organize before those forces heading for the Northern regions of the Imperium started their campaigns. Despite how a part of himself raged at the promise he had made to assist Sekh’s efforts and the fact that it prevented him from personally attending to the destruction of a Craftworld alongside several other legions, a promise was a promise and he valued his word. 

So as he crossed the threshold of the room in which their gathering was to be held, one would have been surprised to see that he had come alone; Then again, any Primarch that had dealt with him before likely knew that he had a habit of not really having an ‘honor guard’ in the same sense that other legions did. “Greetings Sister. I see that I’m the first to arrive. Do we have a rough headcount on who’s coming north with us?”   

“I will be.” Came another voice as another of the Emperor’s offspring entered the room. The Primarch of the Sixteenth Legion held her head higher than before, and though she could not easily hide the pain that still afflicted her when she walked or the weight that she carried on her shoulders, she was possessed of an energy she had not felt in years. Clad not in drab grey robes but in the colorful clothing of her home, she forced a smile as she nodded to her brother and sister. A manic gleam lit up her eyes as she looked around the room. Her form was slimmer today - seeming tuned not for war but for enjoyment. The most striking element of her appearance however was the shimmering leg she walked on. Where once had been flesh and blood, torn from her by the weaponry of her now hated ‘brother’, her left leg was now wrought seemingly from golden light, only partly concealed by the colorful but unusually cut garments she wore.

Before her night of drinking with Daena and Kaldun, Eiohsa had planned on returning to the Segmentum Ultima to continue the expansion of the Imperium - as had been her standing orders for years. But now a small part of her burned with curiosity ever since Daena had brought the insurrection in Obscurus to the forefront of her mind. A mysterious benefactor to the rebels against the Imperium, supplying the enemies of the imperium with advanced weapons that in many ways eclipsed the capabilities of the Imperium’s own arms? Her mind relished the thought of prying them open and learning their secrets, above the stifling foolishness of the blind band of zealots that dictated the Imperium’s technology. The mere thought of them…

She grit her teeth, clearing her mind of such dark things. She would rise above it. She would rise above these injuries inflicted by her brother. She would forget the things she had seen. Now, here and now, was something real and tangible, a way to return to her roots. Smile. Reforge herself. “Daena will likely join us too, I believe. It was she who ordered me away from another siege in Ultima and towards Obscurus. Greetings to you, sister, I don't think we've ever spoken much - but Daena speaks highly of you.”

Other Legions had the freedom to make ready for their next campaigns, to disperse and arm themselves for battles to come. The Doomsayers were not other Legions however, the personal army of the Warmaster having been frozen into a state resembling shock at their gene-sire’s sudden elevation. Paperwork and ceremony filled their days, matters of honor and protocol paralyzing one of the most formidable fighting forces in the Imperium. A change swept over their ranks in fits and starts, borne by the need to throw themselves back into the fray without hesitation as to who or what they were.

No such hesitation had taken hold of their Primarch however, the demigod sliding from one role to another with the same sense of duty she brought to everything in her life. Daena the Primarch had arrived to gatherings such as this almost meekly, dressing and presenting herself to dazzle mortals but be in turn eclipsed by her siblings. She had no desire to engage in the politics and gamesmanship of the pantheon of superhumans, preferring instead to fade into the background until the time was right and she was needed in their private affairs. Daena the Warmaster had other priorities.

Gone were the austere robes of Imperial functionaries, along with the subtle emblems of status and authority she once spent hours analyzing and designing. She was the Emperor’s chosen representative in the Crusade, and humility no longer suited her. The Warmaster entered the chamber garbed in a gown that cost more than a suit of Power Armor, glittering shards of silver that seemed to - no, that actually did - dance and shift around her with every step she took with a train made of soft white feathers that matched those of her own wings, and atop her head was a laurel wreath of gold. Accompanying her were grandees of the Imperial Court, centuries old generals and strategists that had been gracefully retired to their father’s personal staff, the entire assembly flanked by two Doomsayers in Cataphractii pattern Terminator armor. Each bore the Raptor Imperialis upon their knee and a heretofore unseen marking upon their breasts - a winged skull.

It was an entrance better fit for royalty than a meeting among peers.

Eiohsa now, suddenly, felt keenly aware of the common nature of her attire. Colorful, lightweight cloth in the fashion of Kayaamat’s old underclasses shriveled against the magnificence of her sister’s entrance. They were simple designs that breathed easily and let heat escape in the stifling, humid confines of the hives. Clothing worn by commoners, dyed and decorated in beautiful patterns by artists and wrapped around the body and provided a protective barrier for the skin against hot metal or steam. She’d always felt most comfortable in these clothes, the lightweight cloth made from processed algae - as was so much back home. She cast her gaze away from Daena, looking for something else to pay attention to.

As his other siblings arrived, Micholi had calmly walked over to the window in order to gaze out at the planet below. He was perfectly happy to turn and acknowledge the new arrivals as they made their respective entrance. At least that was the intention anyway and was what happened when Eiohsa had entered. When Daena arrived, Micholi fully turned in order to gaze at her and the entourage following in her wake.

“Daena, congratulations on your recent ascension to Warmaster.” Micholi offered politely, even going so far as to offer a small bow of his head in acknowledgement of her new rank. “Forgive me for not saying so sooner. I figured you would prefer some time to adjust to your new duties and responsibilities rather than be dragged into a social call, albeit a friendly one.”

The quick succession of arrivals prevented Sekhmetara from performing the more personal greetings of her siblings she tended to prefer, a brief nod and smile of greeting to Micholi and Eiohsa as they assembled. A deliberately unsubtle flash of concern marred her features at the evidence of injury to Eiohsa, although for now the comment was kept to itself.

A frown crossed the eyes of the Sixteenth as she took note of Sekhmetara’s concern. She had seen the footage captured by the madman, disseminated across the imperium en masse, had she not? The extent of her injuries had been made clear for all to see. Her humiliation and madness laid bare. Surely, she knew?

Her smile lifted at the announcement of Daena’s arrival, her soul craving the assurity of her sister’s presence. The pristine image in her mind was a powerful counter to the acidic bitterness that lingered throughout her, but it was still a pale imitation of the real thing. To be in the company of Daena had always made things easier. Her smile didn’t falter as her sister arrived in full, accompanied by the throng that had already attached itself to her given the primacy of her position. It was not the demigod herself that gave away any cause of concern, but her siblings were only mortals, they could not still their hearts not entirely hide the flicker of their eyes towards Sekhmetara. Even as the Demigods' eyes met, the mortals held their breaths.

It was not pain, rage or hurt that first rose to Sekhmetara’s features, but her smile softened in a muted sort of pride. “Be welcomed, My Warmaster, Honored Guests.” The Huntress of Mithra bowed her head to Daena, lower than the nod of greeting for her siblings. Those assembled of Sekhmetara’s own bodyguard, both the black-clad terminators of her first company and the mahogany artificer armour of her mortal guardians saluted in respect to Daena’s own daughters, the sign of the Aquila given, rather than the crossed fists of Mithra’s warriors. With the presence of the retinues of the other Legions, the previously absent honour guard of Sekhmetara now fanned the perimeter of the chamber, standing appropriately at ease given the trusted allegiance of those assembled. Despite being the host of those assembled in terms of the provided refreshments and organisation of the meeting, Sekhmetara deigned to allow her chosen sister the right to call the meeting to, as well as the order to allow those assembled to sit. Enough chairs around the central table had been drawn up to allow for a primach and their closest confidants to sit, with further seating for observers provided at smaller tables around the room.

Eiohsa looked to Sekhmetara, still focused on the look of concern from before. She spoke to her in her mind, words inaudible to any other. [i]Have you something to say to me, sister?[/i]

On several occasions Sekhmetara had felt the touch of a psyker on her mind, had the words of Aeldari, Astropaths, crazed witches or the librarians of her legion whispered across their gifts to the Primach. The words of one of her siblings was another matter. She hid the surprise well, but the psychic force that each of them projected was far more than even the perfidious xenos and it took several moments for her to compose a response, replying only with a thought, as she had done for others in the past. [I]”Perhaps, it will wait.[/I] A slight frown finally crossed her features, as one hand pressed to rub her temple, an uncomfortable experience she would no doubt have to become used to.

“Thank you, Micholi, but know that I am always grateful to hear from my beloved siblings,” Daena said, matching his bowed head with a nod of her own. She made a mental note of Eiosha’s reluctance to look upon her, the Warmaster internally cursing her folly so soon into her tenure by humiliating her so publicly. But such concerns melted away when her eyes met Sekhmetara’s, a smile blossoming upon her face as the two regarded one another.

“My sister, my heart, your welcome is more pleasing than a thousand crowns,” she replied with clear joy, ignoring the knowledge of who and what guarded her sister. Such were the purview of the Legion, and it alone, no matter what she felt about their curse. The sign of the aquila was duly returned, the Warmaster making sure to pay due respect to the warriors she was among.

“But sadly we are not here to rejoice as siblings. The disquiet in the North has become impossible to ignore, the threat is clear. A power exists in those distant stars, one with the strength to delay our Father’s vision. Many Legions have engaged with the servants of this foe, but I tire of fighting petty proxy wars. We shall find the benefactor of these rebellions, and crush them for their insolence. They shall be made to account for their deeds.”

His greeting returned, Micholi moved to be seated so that the meeting proper could begin. Listening to the situation, he was quick to ask an insightful question. “Is there a pattern to the rebellions and revolutionaries that are being supported? They [i]might[/i] merely be taking advantage of whatever opportunities they can find in order to undermine the Imperium, but if there is a pattern that would suggest evidence of a grander ideology behind their actions. Understanding what motivates them to undermine the Imperium would make predicting their actions much easier.”

With a gesture, Sekhmetara drew attention to the central table the gathering orbited around, the heart of it, a holographic projector, sparking into life at the unspoken command, presenting a slowly rotating map of the Segmentum Obscurus, many labels of data springing off from it, detailing the strength of forces coming to bear, both aligned with the Imperium and against it. Individual pictfeeds arose alongside these notes, snapshots of the fighting on a hundred different worlds to provide in visceral imagery what mere datareels could not.

“There is no doubt a carrion element to the conflict, uprisings and piratical factions seeking to take advantage of the strain pressed elsewhere, or shirking the new demands placed upon them to meet the enemy, but the worlds of the Imperium are prepared for such things.” They certainly were in the territory claimed by the Tears of Dawn. She supposed that the fires of her sibling’s rage could often claim the same. It was hard for an ashen ruin to voice its complaints about Imperial tax policy.

“What requires our attention is far more concerning. With a flick of her wrist, the Primarch manipulated the hologram, the view of the Segumentum being replaced with snapshots of many worlds, a dozen in total, each with planetary details of strategic relevance. “Our Warmaster will be familiar with the technology we encountered on Praxia, trusted agents of my Legion have confirmed evidence of the same being present on each of these worlds, with many more times that still being investigated.” Each of the worlds presented had been key in Imperial rule to their local systems, or even sub-sectors. Sekhmetara did not need to voice, in the presence of the instinctive minds of her own siblings, how that would all but confirm a unified force. “Systems that were routine in their compliance, who easily beheld the Light of Reason and knew it to be true are now in open rebellion and are equipped in a manner that can threaten even our Legions.” She could not keep the sting of pride from her words, to consider such a thing was almost anathema. This was not the glory of Ullanor or the Horror of Rangdan, yet they had challenged the Astartes.

“At the least, each of these worlds require the attention of an Expeditionary Fleet, and I believe it necessary for one of the Emperor’s Scions to be present as well, so that we may root out whatever our Legions and Bureaucrats have missed.” The hologram did not change for the moment, the twelve key worlds the Tears of Dawn had identified turning on their axis. “The orks are not a common threat in this region of space, but there is equally the concern of xenos threats escalating as the war burns on. Obscurus has long been plagued by Aeldari piracy and I would imagine this shall only increase.” Sekhmetara’s eyes settled on Micholi as she spoke. She knew he had longed for the chance to claim his vengeance upon their species with the siege of the limping Craftworld, and so she offered him this, albeit lesser, prize for knowing that his efforts were needed elsewhere. “One Legion could no doubt achieve this, but the effort would be painfully slow. As one, we can crush the fires of rebellion and secure the borders of the Imperium once more, no doubt in doing so, we will reveal whatever greater malice has conspired against us.” As she finished speaking, Sekhmetara claimed a goblet of wine from the table, a long sip as she surveyed her siblings, assessing their reactions as the first stage of her briefing came to a close.

Eiohsa was first to speak, “The Warmaster has informed me of the unusual and advanced equipment in use by these rebels and requested my presence in assisting the handling of the situation. I have, over the past few days, been availing myself of the reports available to me on the nature of the combat and strange weapons provided to these rebels by their mysterious benefactors.” She nodded to Sekhmetara, “While I have yet to fight alongside you and our sisters against this foe, I will not insult you by asking the questions we all know the answers to. Instead I would ask if you have any of these weapons that you can spare for examination. My own works and those of my technical experts are more rapid and less bound by dogmatic superstition than the works of the Mechanicum, and though the manufactoria of my fleet are no substitute for the fabri-complexes of Kayaamat they may suffice for devising countermeasures or adapting this new technology to serve us against the threat.”

There was a brief moment where Micholi looked over the information present in order to choose his words carefully. “While I am sure we will be getting details of just what this equipment these chosen rebels are being provided might be capable of in time, will we be striking all twelve planets at once or is there an order you would prefer our forces be concentrated on?”  

Eiohsa frowned, “It would be best to be cautious. We are facing an unknown enemy with unknown capabilities. Assaulting all twelve worlds simultaneously might provide us some advantage in time - but it risks overextending the legions. Against a foe whose true strength remains unknown, exposing ourselves to a larger escalation invites disaster - a second Rangdan.” She paused, letting the weight of the words hang in the air for a time, “If our unknown enemy receives word of a larger redeployment of astartes forces to the region they may in turn ratchet up their own involvement. We know they possess weapons capable of threatening even Astartes with ease. But we don’t know if they have yet greater weapons in store because we know nearly nothing about them. It would be wise to keep our cards close to hand and employ the Night Watch’s exceptional reconnaissance abilities - because frankly, we’re stumbling blind. Any light your Legion can shed on the enemy would be immensely helpful and enable us to defeat them in detail without undue risk.”

“Oh of course sister.” Micholi answered casually as he turned to look at Eiohsa. “Regardless of whatever grander plan we employ, the Night Watch and its agents will be present throughout the theater, even if we are not actively fighting on a given planet at the time.” For the first time in the meeting he turned his gaze towards the mortals present, deciding to give them a reasonable explanation “While the equipment they are being supplied with is on par with that of the legions, once we arrive I have confidence that our fleets can take orbital and aerial superiority fairly quickly since it is a rare planet that can actively operate, supply and maintain orbital or aerial forces for any real length of time while under siege and cut off from supply lines.They are high maintenance, resource expensive pieces of equipment after all.”

“Unless the Imperial governments on these worlds were so grossly corrupt and inept that their falls would be darkly comedic if innocent people weren’t dying in the crossfire, the various insurgent groups we’ll be dealing with have successfully learned how to operate as an insurgency force long before we arrive… and that means that even with the technology and weapons to fight a legion on equal footing, the last thing they’re going to want to do is have a prolonged battle with us out in the open. So they’ll go to ground and try to turn their planet into a quagmire of hit and runs and sabotage designed to stall us until either their patron moves in to save them or something more important comes along that we need to divert our forces and attention towards.”

Having given what he believed would be a reasonable prediction of the war goals of their foes, Micholi shifted as he looked back at the warmaster again.   

“I have no mind for subjugation and grinding planets into dust,” Daena breezily declared. “Our goal in these campaigns is not conquest, it is information. Even banded together the scattered rebel worlds are of little consequence, aside from the insult of their existence. Those which have been Compliant shall be rendered so again - but one must not let vengeance nor zeal cloud their judgment,” the Warmaster continued.

Her eyes locked with Sekhmetara’s, the thinnest of smiles appearing upon the Angel’s face. “I believe that my sister is in agreement with my thoughts. As she stated, every rebellious world has the same benefactor. You will note that the Legions assigned to this theater are all of a particular bent, this was no accident. We shall discover this hidden foe, and root them out stem and branch.”

“All of you have trained your gene-children in extracting information from civilian populations, by hook or by crook. This is our goal. I will not have the blood of billions upon my hands - not when these pitiful rebellions can be ended by removing the flow of supplies to them.” At this, Daena’s perpetually calm face dropped into a frown, the woman shaking her head grimly. “And I would know the name of a foe with such boldness.”

Daena’s narrow smile was met by a more emotive upward turn of Sekhmetara’s fuller lips, any of the Mithran’s primarch’s fouler inner thoughts far from the affectionate surface present for all to see. Such was easier when her sister was present in the flesh. “The bulk of my own Legion is already in the process of redeploying to Obscurus, my daughters shall provide each of us with ongoing reports as to the situation at each of these focus points while your legions are gathered. I must first return to Mithra, it has been decades since I have sat the Atenite Throne, the Senate will have grown restless to send more of their children to glory, and my Daughters need fresh souls to mould.” It was an artistic way to voice a need to replace the losses of many campaigns, but there was truth to the flower of her words. She missed Mithra, for all the wonders of the galaxy and righteousness of their cause. “I will endeavour to not leave you waiting, Warmaster.” Sekhmetara dipped her head slightly to her sister, almost teasing in her words, but nonetheless, pronouncing her comfort with her sister’s rank. Her eyes flickered between Eiohsa and Micholi in turn, a flash of disappointment over her eyes in the interim, not at their present situation, but at the tales that swirled around the pair already, of the costly impact of their duels with different scions of the Emperor. “May we all avoid the trials of recent weeks, I have found conquest to be a salve for the soul in this way.”

There was a small glance towards Sekhmetara from Micholi, before he offered in a rather neutral tone “Personally I have never found much in the way of solace in conquest. But there is something to be said about aiding to reconstruct worlds so that they might, hopefully, never have to feel the flames of war again.” Turning back to the campaign displays, he quickly confirmed for the Warmaster “I’ll be calling in the Night Watch’s second division in order to assist with the campaign. Alongside being the closest stationed to the theater of operations, they are also the most… [i]dedicated[/i] when it comes to rooting out the true nature of a population.”

A moment’s delay elapsed before the Sixteenth Primarch spoke. Taken aback by the words of the Warmaster she stumbled for a moment as she sought to find her own. Any viewer would have noticed the widening of her eyes and momentary parting of her lips in a moment of genuine shock. At long last, her Legion had been called on for something other than total war.

“I- I will be bringing detachments of the Third and Fourth battle groups of the sixteenth legion.” She declared after a moment, “The Third is frequently employed in garrison duties and has extensive experience in reconstruction and cooperation with civilian authorities and individual noncombatants. The Fourth played an essential role in counterinsurgency operations on the worlds of the xeno empire that attacked the eastern frontier, as well as countless human worlds besides. They are… frequently rather informal, but the best my Legion has to offer in this regard. Their accompanying auxiliary forces will as well be redeployed to the region, as well as detachments of the Saravati Defense Forces and State Security Directorate who have experience handling civilian unrest.” She nodded to the others, “I will also be redeploying several manufacturing vessels to aid in the production of any countermeasures to the enemy weapons I or my engineers can provide, as well as providing logistical support for rebuilding efforts in those areas already ravaged by war in concert with hospital ships.”

Another moment passed, and the tension went out of her shoulders, “I am… I’m glad to hear I have been called on for a reason other than their annihilation. Thank you.”

“You have never done so before, sun of my heart,” Daena murmured in reply to Sekhmetara before turning back to the business at hand. “Make no mistake,” Daena declares as she looks between Micholi and Eiosha. The Tears required no such guidance. “We march to war, and traitors are still traitors - regardless of their motives or masters. But we must find and extirpate the root of these rebellions, and bring the full wrath and fury of our Father upon it. All other concerns are secondary. If you must make haste, make haste. If you must slaughter, then slaughter. If you must be merciful, then be merciful. As soon as the identity of this hidden threat is known, inform your siblings, and we shall deal with this distraction.”[hr]
[center][b]Aboard the [i]Redemption[/i][/b][/center]
A light spacecraft glided through the empty void, understated and devoid of imperious ornamentation. Ahead loomed the Gloriana [i]Redemption[/i], flagship of the Doomsayers, and Eiohsa’s destination. The summons of the Warmaster were not something to brush off, and even had she been so inclined - a part of her simply wished to speak to her sister. She had brushed off the concerns of her medical staff, no longer content to lie in bed and languish in her thoughts. She would begin remaking herself. She [i]had[/i] to begin remaking herself, ridding herself of flaws and imperfections. Becoming a tool of the Imperium to be proud of, rather than discarded. How exactly, she did not yet know, yet she would achieve it all the same.

The craft touched down within the hold of the [i]Redemption[/i] and Eiohsa stepped off it without ceremony, stepping foot within the same vessel she had stood within scant days before the duel. She suppressed a shudder, looking around the hold as memories threatened to rush in once more. The hallucinations that had plagued her on that field down below pushed against her mind, and in turn she pushed them down to languish in the depths of her psyche. She would overcome them. Purge herself of them. But first she would speak to her sister.

Eiosha was not greeted with an elaborate honor guard, no phalanxes of Terminators or pomp and ceremony. Instead, the only person there to greet her was the Warmaster’s own Equerry, the woman wearing the death mask of the Primarch that was her symbol of office. Yekterina was typically sullen when she was about business that required the mask, but not today. “Lady Eiosha, please follow me,” she said in a kindly voice.

She was rapidly led through the corridors of the [i]Redemption[/i] without much in the way of protocol, the Equerry simply taking her by the most direct route to Daena’s quarters. Such was exceptionally rare, but Eiosha was barely in the foyer before she came face to face with the Warmaster.

“Forgive me, Eiosha.”

Eiohsa looked to her sister, a bizarre combination of emotion playing out across her features as she looked at the same face that had arbitrated her humiliation. And yet she could not bring herself to feel anger. At least, not anger at her sister Primarch. Regret. Frustration. Hope. All of these, certainly, but not anger.

“I hope you can forgive me in turn, for acting as foolishly as I have, sister.” She said, watching her evenly. Emotion warred within her again. The memories on the broken field of the duel. The backlash in the midst of her vision, as she accepted what she had thought to be her death on the Emperor’s orders. Her own conversation with the Emperor. A moment passed, and without consideration, she spoke again, “How much did you see?”

“All of it,” Daena replied before nodding her head to her Equerry. The Astartes pounded her fist to her chest in salute as she left, leaving the pair alone together at last. “Come, my sister. We have much to discuss and precious little serenity left to us,” she said softly as she turned upon her heel, leading Eiosha from the foyer and deeper into her quarters.

The dining room was well appointed by the standards of the majority of the Imperium, but was shockingly modest and threadbare for one with such wealth and power at her fingertips as Daena. Important, however, was a flagon filled with a potent wine spiked with the herbs Sekhmetara so praised. “But first. Drink.”

“All o-?” Eiohsa began, the words slipping from her involuntarily. She placed a hand over her mouth to silence herself, “Apologies.” She murmured, after a moment. “I, yes. Of course.”

She followed her sister hesitantly, every step an uncertain as she followed her through the halls of the ship. The spartan decor - at least by the standards of most of her kin, brought a strange sense of comfort as she took in the room. Much like her own ship. Devoid of excessive ornamentation or dedadent furnishings. No gaudy embellishments leered out at her to flaunt inestimable wealth and power. It set her mind at ease.

Wordlessly she took the proffered flagon and poured herself a generous portion of it, welcoming the chance to numb her mind with drink once more. Uncertain of herself, she waited for the warmaster to speak once more.

“I acted rashly. Foolishly. I attempted to seek the path of peace between my siblings, but failed in my first true test. There is no forgiveness possible for such a grievous error,” Daena said with a heavy sigh, pouring herself her own helping of the wine. “There was once a man of Old Earth who I am reminded of now. What I have done, what I allowed to happen, is worse than a crime. It was a mistake. I played directly into our brother’s hands, and ruined the reputation of the Primarchs. Of our Father.”

Eiohsa nodded silently, drinking in her sister’s words as she watched her speak. “It would be the height of irony to claim I know best in all such things as this - but I cannot bring myself to disagree.” She sipped at the wine, “My own actions were foolish. Impulsive. Spurred on by emotion and outrage at our brother and misdirected at another. Certainly, some kind of punishment was due.” She paused, “But… to be frank I can’t think of a better way to have handled it. Brushing my words aside would have angered the entirety of the Mechanicum, and anything short of the duel likely would have been seen as such. What’s done is done and for better or worse you did what you thought was best, and that matters - at least to me.”

Barely had the wine passed her lips when emotion swelled inside of Daena’s breast, far too soon for her to claim it as an excuse for the break in her composure. “I-” She slammed her mouth shut as she felt her voice begin to crack, staring into the middle distance as she regained her composure. They had been blessed with superhuman minds, it was true, but that included superhuman emotion, and even she could be found wanting. “Thank you, Eiosha.”

“I would have you join me upon our next campaign. Leave our quarrelsome brothers to their own devices and let the two of us build the future together. As sisters. I understand if you would have nothing to do with me after what I have done.”

“Nonsense, sister. You have borne me no hate, you have not accused me of baseless lies, you stood by my side against Sarghaul, and we share a vision for a better Imperium. If I would have nothing to do with you, who else would there be?” Eiohsa raised an eyebrow. “You are not perfect and, unfortunately, neither am I. We have all made our mistakes - small and large. As I said you did what you thought was right. You acted the judge, impartial and weighing in favor of what benefitted the whole, rather than an individual.” She sipped again at her wine, struggling to keep her voice even. “It’s a heavy weight you carry. And it was a harsh first trial. Who could have done better?”

She shook her head, “I doubt I could have - I doubt any could have. Of [i]course[/i] I will join you.”

Daena finished her wine, this time in earnest rather than despair, eyes alight in excitement. “Then let us banish our sorrows, for there is work to be done. Are you familiar with the troubles far afield that I was last engaged in? A wave of rebellion and unrest, coordinated and coaxed by a foe yet unknown.”

Eiohsa leaned forward in her seat, “Indeed I have - you mentioned it briefly aboard my own flagship. Advanced weaponry, unrest upon worlds our own sister peacefully brought into compliance.” She stroked her chin, thinking, “And what is it you would have my legion do on this world?” She asked, continuing with words tinged with bitterness, “Father designed my daughters as a mass produced sledgehammer, not a scalpel.” 

“Then reserve your wrath,” Daena said with a shrug. “There is far more than [i]one[/i] world in rebellion, an entire front has erupted within the Obscurus. Restore them to order by whatever means you deem fit, restore Compliance and the integrity of our rule. But I will call upon their fury, do not mistake that, my sister. Our Father’s will shall be enacted and at my word great slaughter will occur - but not now. Not yet. We shall find who has incited these revolts, and we shall destroy them for their temerity.”

Eiohsa raised an eyebrow, “Wrath?” She asked, smiling, then bursting into laughter. “Wrath?!” She set her drink down, shoulders heaving and shaking as she laughed at the thought. “I have no wrath, sister! And neither do my daughters. I- forgive me.” She cut herself off, holding a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter until, gradually, it died away, golden tears drying on her cheeks. 

“Apologies. I… let me…” she began, “Mine is not a wrathful legion - and I am not a wrathful woman. We are simply… accustomed to being used as such. A battering ram, the easily replaced spearhead. We are spread around the galaxy engaged in garrison duty, or dying in the trenches. And yet all the same we hold no hatred in our hearts.” She looked over at Daena. “You must understand - what you are asking is something most in my Legion will have never undertaken outside the borders of Saravata. I have waited, and my daughters have waited, [i]so long[/i] for an assignment like this. Where there are not great strongholds and citadels to tear down and worlds to despoil, but ones to [i]save[/i].” She smiled, “So, thank you for that.”

“Then let it be my command. You shall bring salvation, Eiosha,“ Daena said in a soft voice, the ghost of a smile playing at the edge of her lips.