[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/Tga045P.png[/img][/center] "[color=2b53a7]They're both very anxious, perhaps even suspicious, but neither is deceiving you.[/color]" The ship's empathic Counselor, Deanna Troi, said to Picard. "[color=2b53a7]They genuinely wish to cooperate.[/color]" Picard rose from his chair and tugged down his blouse, saying, "[color=ed1c24]That's a perfectly good place to start. Number One, Mister Data, Counselor, you're with me.[/color]" Data rose from his seat and said, "[color=c1c730]Captain, with your permission, I would like to stay behind on the [i]Enterprise[/i] to conduct a series of experiments. I am concerned about the possibility that the physical laws of this universe may not correlate exactly to our own, and therefore may interfere with our more advanced technology, such as the transporter and warp engine.[/color]" Picard nodded. "[color=ed1c24]Permission granted. Mister Worf, prepare a shuttle.[/color]" [hr] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/oN268Zt.png[/img][/center] From the launch bay closest to the command section of the [i]Vengeful Spirit[/i], three quarters of a kilometer below it, the [url=https://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Stormbird]stormbird[/url] transport ship [i]Rapture[/i] departed the vessel, turning subtly, flying in a wide arc toward the [i]Exodus[/i]. It was a vessel painted pitch-black, with gold accoutrements as well as bearing Horus' personal heraldry, his burning red [url=https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/warhammer40k/images/d/d4/BL_Icons_%26_Symbols.png/revision/latest?cb=20130818101248]Eye[/url]. Two more craft like it, [i]Ragnarok[/i] and [i]Kali Yuga[/i] stayed docked aboard the flagship. Horus looked out through the portcullis of the cockpit out into open space, and the planet below them as it slowly grew closer and occluded more of their view. He wanted to get a good look at the world that might be the final resting place for his sons, if he did not act prudently. He directed the navigator to show him a magnified occulus feed of the [i]Exodus[/i] and its escort. The cruisers were fine vessels, and he admired the simplicity of their design; they clearly were of ease for this civilization to mass produce, as Coruscant's orbit was thick with them. Despite the elegance of their design, a ship of this size the Vengeful Spirit would blow to smithereens with a single direct hit. For that matter, he left a standing order aboard the Vengeful Spirit to do just that to any ship that attempted to leave Coruscant's atmosphere. It would be hours yet before they arrived. Their distant posture did have its drawbacks. He turned away from the cockpit and rejoined his Sons within the ship's hold. Horus' Mournival were no more than ten paces from him at all times. Abbadon, his choleric First Captain, stood close at his flank, combi-bolter held at attention. At his other flank was his equerry, Malgohust, arrayed in his life-support modified armor, leaning heavily on Horus' golden standard. Close at hand were phlegmatic Loken, polishing his silver-green helmet, melancholic "Little" Horus sharpening his knife, and sanguine Torgaddon pestering him. Also loaded into the hold were two squads of veteran Legionnaires, five members of the Justaerin terminator squad (to match Abaddon, arrayed in his black terminator armor) and a slumbering dreadnought. Horus had no intention to show most of this to his hosts, but kept them on hand in case a demonstration was necessary. And if for any particular reason things happened to turn sour, they were backup. After their long flight, [i]Rapture[/i] arrived to dock in the landing bay of the [i]Exodus[/i]. At first it did not seem that the craft would fit in the bay, but its wings folded upward, narrowing its profile, and it slid in. The bay was secure, and therefore narrow, and the nose of the craft nearly touched the other end by the time the stern passed through the force field. A landing ramp on the side lowered, and a single human man descended. His clothing was simple, off-white, and inoffensively shapeless, with a draping hooded cloak. Underneath was an old man, with short, white hair, and lively, captivating eyes. He stepped down to greet whatever officer remained to receive them, "[color=F0EAD6]My name is Kyril Sindermann, I am Iterator Primus. I speak, and listen, for the Primarch. He is within, and ready to be received. But I must ask on his behalf, that he be permitted an armed guard in his presence, and this bay, as well as all halls on his path to be cleared of nonessential personnel. He is an Imperial regent, and of great importance to our species, as well as a friend to me.[/color]"