Sigismund looked at Camba Diaz. The image of Euphrati Keeler, holding the Emperor's icon, flashed through his mind.
Would he once again disobey his Primarch's orders, and even abandon mortal Auxiliaries to escape?
After his father and the Regent had confirmed Iacton Qruze's message of the Warmaster's betrayal, he had been chosen to command the punitive fleet.
Before departing, he had seen Keeler.
She told him Horus would come to Terra, and that he must remain here. His gene-father would need him in the end.
The visions she showed him offered another path: he would die under an unknown star, forgotten, and the Imperium would fall.
She also told him that if he did not choose death, he would fight without end.
His resolve wavered. He had asked his father to be allowed to remain, and to give the command to another.
It was the first time he had refused his father's appointment. Now, would he again accept a fate of failing his father's mission?
"No!" Sigismund shouted, roaring as he swung his blade, deflecting an incoming strike.
"We must complete our father's mission."
"Sigismund, look around you."
"Lukas Chrom's Abominable Intelligences number in the thousands. A Templar or a Terminator can destroy one, or even a hundred."
"But we can never destroy them all."
Sigismund silently surveyed the battlefield. A Templar, his blade buried in an Abominable Intelligence's chassis, was engulfed in a torrent of black flame, consumed in an instant.
Another Cataphractii Terminator was carved into pieces by a dozen radiation beams.
One by one, the yellow runes on his tactical display winked out.
"We must withdraw immediately. We must take everything we can back to Terra."
"This is the best way to fulfill our father's mission under these circumstances."
"The Praetorian of Terra and the Imperium need them."
Sigismund roared, plunging his blade into an Abominable Intelligence's spherical chassis, venting his fury. He then seriously considered Diaz's words.
Even among the stoic Imperial Fists, Diaz was known for his silence and caution.
This was the first time Sigismund had seen him explain his reasoning so patiently. He knew his father had chosen Diaz to accompany him to temper his battle-fury.
Seeing Sigismund's silence, Diaz opened a wide-band comm channel and gave the cold order.
"Jovian Grenadiers, hold your ground!"
Diaz switched channels, ordering the Imperial Fists.
"Withdraw. Take whatever weapons and equipment you can carry."
"You go first!" Sigismund said, charging towards the banner.
A body in broken yellow power armor hung from it.
Blood dripped down the pole, pooling on the ground.
Sigismund's eyes reddened. He reached the pole, his fist slamming into it.
Bang!
The pole broke. The Imperial Fist's body fell.
Sigismund raised his arms, preparing to catch it. A torrent of black flame rolled towards him, engulfing the yellow armor.
The Imperial Fist's body was consumed by the fire.
The flame washed over the Cataphractii Terminator armor. The Palatine Aquila, a gift from the Emperor, hanging from his knee, burned to ash.
Sigismund charged from the flames, his yellow armor scorched black.
He roared, charging the Abominable Intelligence. His comm channel crackled with broken transmissions.
"They destroyed… the relays…"
"They forged… the signals… We walked into an ambush…"
They did not fight like the automata they had destroyed time and again at Tycho Brahe. They were not bound by limited combat algorithms. They were unrestrained.
Their blood-stained forms used the dead Astartes as bait.
Their hungry, predatory Abominable Intelligences grew with each battle.
Sigismund watched the red light flickering like human eyes, and drove his sword into it with hatred.
Scrape!
The blue energy field cut through the spherical chassis. The machine toppled.
Sigismund spun his blade, cutting through the three crimson eyes, then retreated.
Boom!
The mechanical body crashed before him.
The ground shook. Sigismund charged towards the nearest yellow rune.
He would be the last Imperial Fist to withdraw.
He moved through the yellow line, driving back the sea-green tide, allowing the Imperial Fists to retreat in order.
As the fifty-eighth Abominable Intelligence fell before him, he glanced back at the Imperial Fists retreating through the collapsed outer gate. He looked towards the distant, still-standing central sector.
He watched radiation beams lance towards the warehouse to his right, overwhelming the plasma fire of the Jovian Grenadiers.
Boom!
The wall collapsed. The deadly light dissolved the Jovians into a pool of blood.
Sigismund stopped, staring at the ruin.
Suddenly, a blinding light tore through the rising pillar of black smoke.
He looked out. Purple-gold gunships dove. A rain of drop pods fell.
His comm channel crackled with Diaz's voice.
"The Death Guard, the Emperor's Children… they've returned?"
"I don't know." Sigismund strode forward.
"But I will fight alongside them for now."
He sprinted, leaped, and swung his blade, severing a mechanical arm.
The arm, along with the Templar it had impaled, crashed to the ground.
He landed, thrusting his sword.
The blade pierced the chassis. He turned his blade, repeating the motion.
"Roar!"
He pushed with his left arm, retreating.
The ground shook. A familiar, proud voice echoed.
"Sigismund, it seems you need help."
Sigismund looked, his eyes widening.
"Lucius, how did you…"
Lucius was a different man from eleven days before.
He was a head taller than Sigismund, taller and broader than any Astartes he had ever seen.
He wore Cataphractii-pattern Terminator armor. The Palatine Aquila had been replaced on his chest by a gleaming blade.
The Emperor's Children behind him also bore the new emblem.
Lucius ignored Sigismund's question. "Our target is the destruction of Mondus Gamma."
He strode forward.
Sigismund watched him run. He wore armor heavier than any Cataphractii Terminator armor, yet he moved with astonishing speed, quickly outpacing the Emperor's Children in their new armor.
....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
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