The Emperors Will
What has gone before.
The Emperor had ordered that the Crimson King and his inner circle be brought to Terra, he also ordered that Prospero be wiped from the face of the universe and Lorgar sent Angron. Meanwhile, the other Primarchs finally discovered the truth and, much to the surprise of the other brothers, Leman Russ accompanied Magnus and his sons to their home world.
When they got there Angron had already destroyed much of Prospero but a battle between Angron and Magnus resulted in Magnus lying broken on the ground, however, the outcome of the destruction of Prospero meant that the Space Wolves and the Thousand Sons were not only cousins but brothers in blood.
The inner sanctum of the Imperial Palace was silent, no servant moved and even the Custodian Guard stayed away from the room that the Master of Mankind held court with his sons. Each of the chosen sons stood before their father and, depending on where they stood depended on what image of him they saw. To Fulgrim, he was an artisan, a poet, a great thinker bringing perfection to an imperfect world. To Ferrus, he was the master of the perfect melding between man and machine, the Omnissiah made flesh. To Rogal he was the great Creaser, the man who brought not just continents but worlds under his control and his power. To Angron, he was the image of war incarnate; to kill those who would not follow his path was the only true way for a warrior god to be. Vulkan saw him as a master of fate, wielding his weapons that were his sons, in the battle for the future that could only mean one thing. Konrad saw him as the night stalker, the being that hunted in the night to bring justice to a universe that still had much to learn in the way of order. Lorgar, who gazed upon his father with the eyes of one who was vindicated in his beliefs, no matter how long it had taken, saw the great preacher, the man who challenged the unbeliever and cast him from his lofty perch into hells own fires. To Lorgar this was god as he had always been, since the first days of that ancient belief. Finally The Lion saw him as he really was the master tactician, the alpha male of his species and a warrior without peer. He was a keeper of secrets and master of all knowledge; this was the man he saw as his father.
There was no denying it now, not now and not ever, his father had been known by so many names and no doubt god had been one of them. He did not blame him for at first, not wanting to have anyone worshipping him, all it had brought was misery and death. Persecution and horror, but that was then and this, this was now. His father was a warrior, an artist, a ruler, a builder and a god all in one mighty, spell binding package. Who else could do the things he did, not even Magnus could do everything that his father had done, and would do in the future. Whosoever denied the Emperors divinity now, well there was only one course of action left open for them and that was to be forever cast into the pits of hell whilst the true sons of the Emperor continued the Great Crusade.
They had all been summoned here; the news of Angrons success in destroying Prospero and many of its people, in the millions was the last count had pleased the Emperor. However, Magnus and his sons escape to a world unknown had not pleased him and as Rogal cast a wary eye at his silent brother, he could almost sense the fires of shame burning in his eyes. He had killed every one of his sons who had failed him when they had attacked the Photep. The human and Astartes crews of that World Eater vessel Angrons Wrath had certainly lived up to its name. Dorn had asked his father not to judge Angron so harshly, after all none of them expected Leman to side with his old nemesis. Still Angron had been made to endure the torment of his father’s disappointment; the scars would take a while to heal.
Finally after waiting for him to speak, and they had been stood there a good seventeen hours the Emperor began to speak. His voice, like his face carried different aspects to each Primarch, which of course depended entirely on how they viewed him. It may have sounded gruff or soft, regal or calm, powerful and menacing, all these and more. But, no matter how they saw him or how they heard his voice the words were the same. He opened his eyes and focused on Vulkan and Vulkan alone for the moment.
“I have a task for you my son, one that you and your Salamanders would excel in”
Vulkan moved to one knee almost immediately “Name it father and it shall be done”
The Emperor moved from his throne and came down to stand before the kneeling Vulkan, he rested his hand on his sons shoulder and bid him to rise. Vulkan did so immediately in one smooth fluid motion. “I want you to go to Chogoris, I want you to meet with the Kharn, I know he is there overseeing recruitment and seeing to the bolstering of his worlds own Imperial Army regiments, and it has been a while since he was last there I believe.”
“Twenty-seven years last count father” Lorgar confirmed quietly.
“Thank you Lorgar. It will be a while before he will return when he is finished there this time. I want the mighty Kharn with us. Jughatti would be an exceptional addition to the ranks when he is here. His White Scars are faster than even the Lions bikers. I long to have the sons of Chogoris within my chosen circle”
“I will do as you ask father” Vulkan stepped back “May I take my leave?”
The Emperor nodded and watched as Vulkan strode out the throne room nodding to the two Custodians who opened the doors for him. The Emperor smiled to himself, always he had heard of the Lion, Horus, Gullimans victories, for their names were spoken high and proud along with Sanguineous, Russ, Dorn and yes even Lorgar, and yet he knew that Vulkan and the Kharn both had given much to the Great Crusaded and were not lauded enough. This would bring Vulkan into his own light and his Salamanders too, he wanted all his sons to have victory, and even Angron would have a complete victory one day.
“Now” He turned to the others “I understand some Salamanders and World Eaters who did not wish to embrace the new order managed to find their way to The Thousand Sons and Space Wolves fleet”
Each brother looked at each other wondering how their father could know this; all with the exception of Lorgar “Typhus” He enlightened them before anyone could ask.
“You are seriously having a joke with me, a poor attempt of one at that” Konrad scowled disbelievingly.
“No brother I am not. Typhus and a couple of others are our spies in the camp of Horus; it really is them and us now”
“Gather round my sons, let us decide how best to proceed” The Emperor retook his seat and his sons sat round him on their own seats and to those who saw them, they might as well have been warlords making plans….which indeed they were.