The rings of Saturn glittered like the teeth of a god.
They stretched across the void — billions of fragments, ice and metal, shipwrecks and the bones of machines. Beneath them, the forges of the Mechanicum burned with steady red light, the refineries that kept the Sol fleets alive.
It was a place of industry, never meant to know silence. But now, there was only the sound of static and the faint, rhythmic pulse of distant battle cannons.
The Watcher Above emerged from the void with its running lights extinguished, the hull scarred from the Jovian campaign. Its shadow fell long across the wreckage of a broken dock.
Kael stood on the bridge as the light from Saturn caught in his armor, making it seem like the black had veins of gold beneath. He had not slept. His mind refused it.
"Enemy positions?" he asked, voice rough but measured.
Malchion's reply came a moment later. "Two main fleets. Mechanicum elements here and here." He gestured to the hololith. "Sons of Horus task force stationed over Enceladus. They've turned the ring-stations into forward bastions."
Kael studied the flickering red icons. "They'll expect a wall. Give them a knife instead."
The bridge crew adjusted course. The Watcher Above shuddered, then began its descent into the glittering dust fields of Saturn's rings. Every impact sounded like rain on glass, faint and constant. The ship whispered to him in data and vibration, as though it understood what waited ahead.
Veyra's absence hung over the command deck like a ghost that refused to leave. Her name was still listed on the command roster, unmarked. Kael didn't correct it.
Joras leaned against the hololith, his one arm folded across his chest. "Intel says they're pulling resources from Titan. Supplies, fuel, laborers. Traitors are setting up a staging ground."
Kael's eyes flicked up. "Then we end it before it breathes."
The Silent Company mobilized without a word. Boarding pods loaded. Engines purred with restrained fury. The strike cruisers and escorts formed behind the Watcher Above in a spearhead formation. They glided through the ring-field like predators moving through long grass, silent, invisible.
Silas would have counted every impact, Kael thought. He felt that absence too.
"Contact in three minutes," Malchion said. "They'll see us once we break the ring-shadow."
Kael nodded. "That's all we need."
The rings opened into light. Enemy ships loomed — the sigils of Horus defaced across their hulls, Mechanicum engines pulsing with heretical energy. The traitors didn't hesitate. Lances ignited, the void became sunfire. The Watcher Above shuddered as the first salvo struck its forward plating.
"Return fire," Kael said softly.
The reply was thunder. The Silent Company's batteries spoke in unison, shells screaming through void and flame. One of the enemy cruisers broke apart before its shields had even cycled, its hull splitting into molten ribbons.
Kael watched the engagement unfold through the data ghost of his foresight. Five seconds — the enemy's volleys already committed, their movements known before they made them. He saw the captain of the nearest Sons of Horus cruiser hesitate, just long enough to lose initiative. Kael turned the ship thirty degrees and fired again.
The cruiser vanished in a blossom of fire.
Joras grinned savagely. "They're blind, Captain!"
"Then let's make them deaf," Kael answered.
Malchion's voice came over vox, cool and detached. "Boarding pods away. Targets: Enceladus refinery two and orbital relay seven."
"Understood," Kael said. "Cut their comms. Let them think they're alone."
The Watcher Above fired again, its lances cutting clean through the black. The Mechanicum ships scattered, uncoordinated without their vox-net. The Sons of Horus pressed forward, driven by pride rather than tactics.
Kael could feel it — that blind, arrogant momentum. He'd seen it in Nostramo's gangs, in the eyes of men who thought fear was weakness.
"Joras," Kael said. "You have the bridge."
The sergeant's brow furrowed. "Captain?"
Kael took his helm from its cradle and sealed it with a hiss. "I'm going to remind them why fear kept their ancestors alive."
The teleport flare lit the bridge with blue fire.
He appeared aboard the enemy cruiser, Warspite, in a storm of displaced air. His boots struck the metal deck as the ship's lights flickered in confusion. Traitor marines shouted, weapons rising. Kael was already moving.
He moved like the dark had learned how to kill.
Bolter rounds screamed past him, tearing through smoke. His sword, Veilrender, whispered through the air, cutting one marine's arm at the shoulder and another's throat in the same motion. He reached the command dais and cut the vox-master in half before the man could draw breath.
The captain turned, a warrior of the Sons of Horus clad in ornate green and gold, blade raised in challenge.
Kael stepped forward.
Their swords met with the sound of steel splitting stone. Sparks filled the air, each flash reflected in Kael's all-black eyes. The traitor fought with fury and pride. Kael fought with purpose. He didn't snarl or shout — he moved in silence, letting the ship's flickering lights cast him as something neither man nor ghost.
The traitor roared, "You think the Emperor will save you? You're nothing but a shadow!"
Kael's next strike shattered the man's guard. His next word was calm. "And what kills you when the light goes out?"
He drove Veilrender through the captain's chest. The traitor's blood hissed as it hit the blade's edge. Kael twisted once, then pulled the sword free.
He stood in silence as the body hit the deck. His helm's filters caught his slow exhale, steady, measured.
"Bridge secured," he said through vox. "Burn the engines. Let them watch their pride drift."
The Watcher Above's batteries answered him a second later. The Warspite tore in half, its wreckage falling into Saturn's shadow.
Kael reappeared on his bridge moments later. His armor was blackened from plasma heat, the blade still slick. Joras said nothing. Malchion turned back to his console.
"All ring-stations report clear," Malchion said quietly. "Enemy fleet retreating to Titan orbit. We hold Saturn."
Kael looked at the void ahead. The rings burned faintly red, reflecting the fires of ships dying in silence. The void was quiet, save for the soft hum of the ship.
"How many?" he asked.
"Thirteen Astartes," Joras replied. "Forty crew. Silas's replacements, mostly."
Kael nodded once. "Add their names to the ledger."
He turned toward the viewport again. Below, Saturn's storms glowed faintly like veins of molten metal. The war wasn't over — it had only changed shape. The traitors had learned what it cost to take one step closer to Terra.
"Set course," Kael said. "We move to Titan. Let them earn the next inch."
The Watcher Above obeyed, slipping into the shadows of Saturn's burning rings.