NationStates Jolt Archive

The purification of Zanthus was proceeding well, already many of the heretical dogs had fallen upon their knees and wept to accept the word of Chaos. Demagogues roamed the streets, spouting carefully formed propaganda which exemplified the power and the might of Chaos, the might of the armies which had swept aside their defences in a single stroke.

Banners were raised in obscene praise to powers that dwelt outside of reality, great and glorious effigies of the Emperor were raised and those of the old faiths shattered. Remiel's visage gazed down upon the world from stone and steel, and high above, the the instrument of his will regarded the world with a suffused glee.

"Bring them here..."

Messages went out, whether carried by couriers to the far corners of Charybdis or sent out in signals, encrypted with the finest Chronosian and Imperial cyphers, psy and geno-locked. His word called for a conclave, a Council whereby the fate and furtherment of the Crusade would be determined by those involved, and where a unified next step would be settled.

The grand Arena of the Old City was chosen, a vast structure of stone, ringed with seats. In the centre of it, a vast feast was prepared, that all could come and drink to the glory of the Imperium Ascendant, and the power of Chaos. Slaves scuttled to and fro, servitors attended to managing the vast power and equipment requirements, monitored by debased Tech Priests.

All the while the signal echoed forth, that those named brothers in the spirit of the Crusade would come forth, and settle what was to come. For the will of the Warmaster was undeniable, and he would not rest till he held Charybdis in his hand.

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And deep within the Terran Federation, the message was received. At the center of the Federation, past all the fleets, soldiers, and defense platforms, there was the shining jewel of the Federation, the prize of humankind: Earth. It was from this world that the Federation was controlled and decisions were made. And where the President, leader of the Federation, was located. Archon Valoris sat in his office, reviewing the many requests, orders and news that reached his desk. It was truly fortunate they had pulled out of the Republic or else they would have been faced with fighting the Galactic Empire, which was now battling the Republic, an alliance which the humans had joined earlier and left a few years ago. Instead, they were focusing on conquests in the Charybdis Cluster. They had gone their under Republican control, now they would return under their own power, as allies of Chronosia. And so it was, that the message from Remiel was received....

A knock at the door announced the presence of a courier. Valoris rubbed his eyes and sighed. "Come in." A man with balding hair and spectacles walked in and bowed.

"Sir, we have just received a message. It was highly encrypted and protected. It originated from the Charybdis Cluster." Valoris instantly was awake, his gaze fully on the man.

"Who was it from?" The courier held up the paper with the message on it.

"The computers did a matching search. It came up with Chronosian." The Archon reached out and grabbed the paper eagerly.

"Well, this must be important if they are calling upon us. Thank you. You may leave." The courier turned to leave and started to head out the door. Valoris scanned the message quickly and called out again. "Wait, actually stay here a moment." The courier, confused, did as he was told and waited as Valoris read the message again, in great detail.

"So...they want a meeting of all their allies. Perfect. We have been looking for the perfect chance to enter the Cluster. We were just going to enter the Cluster with a fleet and start conquering, but...this is much better. If they actually need our fleets for something, then this is the perfect chance." He sighed and looked over at the courier.

"Summon the High Command and set up a meeting in the conference room on Delta Level. And summon Intel as well. I want everyone there."

The courier paused. "Everyone sir? Even the army commanders?"

"Yes, them too." The courier bowed and left, while the Archon got out of his seat and walked over to the window. The massive city of London, the capital of their homeworld and of the Federation. So, it had come to this then. He wondered what exactly Remiel wanted with them. No matter, this was going to be very interesting. They hadn't ever met the powers of Chaos and it was something he was wary of. He knew how corrupting they could be and he refused to have his nation and his people turned into religious fanatics and simply be a pawn to Chronosia and their dark gods. Valoris gazed out the window for a long time, until the courier arrived several hours later, informing him that everyone had arrived.
****
Valoris gazed around the table, the room dead silent. All the major members of the Federation military were here. The High Command, led by High Admiral O'Brien, and Vice Admiral Stevens. And Intel had sent their head, Sara Westman. The various army commanders were there, with High Commander Joseph. All was set, now only to unleash the message and get things moving, as they should be. "Ladies and Gentlemen, you have all been called here today due to a recent message we have received. One that will accelerate our plans a little." O'Brien leaned forward, eyes blazing with energy.

"Tell me, Valoris, how can a simple message make our forces mobilize any faster?" The Archon chuckled.

"I didn't mean that old friend, I meant our deployment schedule." The High Admiral raised his eyebrows slightly, the only sign of his surprise.

"Well that could be arranged but what reason do you have?"

Valoris smiled. "This one." He tapped a key and an A.I appeared. This one was the one Intel had made for this specific purpose. It was glowing green and had long hair.

"Greetings, Archon. What may I do for you?"

Valoris replied. "Hello Amanda. Do you mind bringing up the map of the Cluster, and open the file ZC-112?"

"Gladly." The A.I. closed her eyes, and the symbols flowing over her body accelerated. Files and data flowed over the screen until it ended with the appearance of a planet with a fleet floating around it. "Zanthus, as you requested, sir."

He smiled. "Thank you, Amanda." Turning to the rest of the group, he spoke again. "Now, you all realize what this planet is and who the fleet belongs to." Vice Admiral Stevens leaned in, steepling his hands.

"Yes...those are Chronosian ships. And that is the planet they recently attacked, Zanthus. From all reports we have managed to gather, they have made incredible progress. But considering what they have at their arsenal, it is not surprising."

"Indeed," Valoris nodded. ", they have made great progress. However, we have recently received an encrypted message from them."

Sara spoke up. "And what did they say?"

The Archon replied calmly. "They are calling for a council to be met on Zanthus, all allies of Chronosia, all those who are aiding in the invasion are to gather at that planet for a meeting. About what, it didn't say. But Remiel is requesting one, and I doubt we can afford to anger him by not simply arriving." O'Brien narrowed his eyes.

"How do we know he is not simply calling everyone together to corrupt them with the powers of Chaos?" Sara rolled her eyes.

"Jack, please, you know as well as I, that they would not do something that dumb. I mean, come on, they are powerful but even they would not withstand an all out assault by all the nations who came into the Cluster, including us. It would be long, bloody and some of our nations might perish but he would fall. And the galaxy would be in a uproar." The High Admiral nodded in agreement.

Valoris raised his head. "Which brings me to my next point. Admiral O'Brien. You are to accompany me and Sara here to Zanthus, with a complement of ships from the 1st Fleet. Vice Admiral Stevens, you will assume command of all naval forces in the Federation until we return. Make sure our nation is kept safe while we are gone." They all nodded. The Archon smiled.

"Now, people, let's go meet out good friends on Zanthus and start our part in this Crusade."
****
"Sir, it is time to wake up." The A.I sounded as Valoris awoke from cryosleep. He blinked a few times as the fog of sleep washed away and then he started to choke. Hacking sounds filled the room as those who were not needed to run the ship were awoken. The cryo inhalant was disgusting but a vital part of the cryo sleep regulations. Coughing as his throat burned, Valoris croaked out.

"Where are we?"

The A.I. calmly replied. "Ten minutes from the Zanthus system. I am awaking the crew, as pre-ordered by High Admiral O'Brien. I suggest going to the showers and dressing, there is not much time before we arrive." The Archon waved a hand and walked off. After showering, dressing in his dress uniform and getting a cup of Scotch, he walked onto the bridge, where Sara and O'Brien were already deep in conversation. They stopped when they noticed him.

"Ah, Valoris, sleep well?" Sara grinned as the Archon glared at her. O'Brien gazed at the timer.

"So, nervous, old friend?"

Valoris drank some more of his Scotch. "Of course I am, I always am with the powers of Chaos."

A howl ripped apart subspace and washed over sensors of the Chronosian fleet as the Federation force sent to accompany the Archon and his entourage arrived in the Zanthus system. The complement consisted of a four frigates, five destroyers, two battleships, and eight dreadnoughts, led by the Carrier Endless Twlight They were deployed in a diamond formation, to provide the best firing positions for the fleet and equalize defense and offense. Valoris walked forward and stared into the screen.

"So this.....is Zanthus." He could see portions of the planet had been devastated, due to the black smudge on the planet caused by the corruption of Chaos. Images of the savage destruction appeared on the screen and he sighed. "Well, might as well get this started. Open a channel to the planet."

The bridge crew worked quickly and a few moments later. "Channel open sir."

The Archon straightened. "This is Archon Valoris of the Terran Federation. We have arrived per the Warmaster's request. I ask permission for my forces to enter your control zone and send a shuttle down with the representatives for the meeting."

In the name of Warmaster Cabot, he who is the fist of the Emperor and the avatar of his will, we welcome you to Zanthus, the Imperial Capital of the Charybdis Cluster. Orbital defence measures have been put into place, but a safe course has been plotted for your shuttle to take. The Warmaster shall greet you upon the southern City Docks, and have you escorted to the Conclave.

The Gods go with you, and all the blessings of the Emperor Incarnate, true Lord and Master of the Imperium, the Chosen Scion of the Gods.

Zanthus was a blue-green orb in the midst of space, haloed by the thousands of vessels of the Chronosian Crusader force. Some seemed merely rotting hulks, half-dead and ruined, while others were sleek and sorcerous. Some seemed more like decadant pleasure barges than the instruments of Space Marine legion. All, however, seemed awash with the taint of the warp and the bristling danger of their manifold guns.

"So, the Telrosians have come....Most pleasing." Cabot chuckled, a gauntleted hand stroking along the shaft of one of his colossal Chainaxes. Gorefiend and Wrathchild had been his companions since his creation at the hands of the Emperor Marcus, weapons that inspired fear in his foes and admiration in his fellows. Fine instruments to dedicate to the service of Khorne. He often pondered how much blood he had spilled in the name of his Lord, how many skulls now lined his throne...

As always, the answer was not enough.

"Indeed, Lord Warmaster" The Ambassador bowed his head "We have directed them to land as soon as they can, and for them to be escorted to the Conclave."

"Send Achaeus and Brensis. It's only fitting that my chosen Captains should escort them. I'll meet them, of coursem, but there will be many others...I can't have my attentions spread thin, not with the Crusade at such a crucial step. Radu and Hakar wish the very stars to bleed, Ameeron declares it Lucian's will that splinters of plague scythe into the body of this Cluster, the Emperor's emissiary would have us artfully cleave through our enemies...

Only I shall judge this thing..."

The descending Telrosian craft would behold him when its doors open, waiting flanked by Achaeus of the First Company and Brensis of the Second. Gleaming in Terminator plate, the two captains were dwarfed by the immense master crafted armor of the Warmaster, a ceramite masterpiece withotu equal, save by the Emperor himself. All were armed, and escorted not only by Space Marines of Cabot's Wolfsbane Legion, including yet more Terminator armored warriors of the first two companies, but by Imperial Guardsmen.

Declared as the Warmaster's Blood Guard, they were dressed in reinforced blood-red carapace armor, hlding Hellguns to the ready. Brands and tattoos marked them as initiates, having possessed the honor of merely being in his presence.

Surrounded by security and a phenomenal show of power (One which the Conclave was sure to outdo), Cabot awaited his guests and the diplomatic entreaties not only for Chronosian aid, but for the large scale continuation of the Crusade.

In the name of Warmaster Cabot, he who is the fist of the Emperor and the avatar of his will, we welcome you to Zanthus, the Imperial Capital of the Charybdis Cluster. Orbital defence measures have been put into place, but a safe course has been plotted for your shuttle to take. The Warmaster shall greet you upon the southern City Docks, and have you escorted to the Conclave.

The Gods go with you, and all the blessings of the Emperor Incarnate, true Lord and Master of the Imperium, the Chosen Scion of the Gods. Valoris nodded.

"Very well, thank you." He shut off the channel and rubbed his skull. "So....we meet the powers of Chaos at last. Have the shuttle prepared in fifteen minutes. I want everyone who has any religion or belief which they can pray to, do so. This confrontation, though as allies, will be tense and vicious. The powers of Chaos corrupt everything, including their own allies. I want all those who have religion as well to wear any and all religious items they have. I am sparing nothing in this encounter. I respect the Warmaster and his legions, and I will respect our alliance, but I refuse to have my people turned into these beasts against their will!" The bridge crew were stunned by the fire in his voice. The courier bowed and dashed away, eager to be clear of the angry Archon. The M.I. guard was selected from the 2nd Company and their chaplain blessed them in all the religions associated with their men. Then they loaded onto the two Dropships provided by the fleet. Sara Westman and the Archon finished their own prayers and loaded onto the shuttle. The High Admiral would remain behind, to safeguard the fleet and retain command, just in case someone attacked the Chronosians.

The dropships jetted out of the hangar of the Endless Twilight and sped down towards the planet. The data for the safe path through orbital defenses, provided by the Chronosians. The ships rocked, and bounced as they made their way into the atmosphere. The Archon and the head of Military Intelligence sat calmly, their faces set in stone. The Archon wore his dress uniform, the same as it was when it was first made in medieval times. It had a long black cloak, and he wore black armor with silvery runes and letters all across, in an ancient language from Earth. Underneath, he wore blood-red crimson shirt and pants, along with brown leather boots. Sara wore a black shirt and pants, along with black shoes, heeding to the stealthy nature of Naval Intelligence. The M.I's were dressed in their black armor and were holding their weapons. The dropships zoomed through the last of the atmosphere and headed to the landing zone. The pilot noticed the welcome party and whistled. "Uhhh sir, we found something we think you should see." The Archon stood up and walked over the computer inside the bay. It turned on and showed the Warmaster and his vast entourage. Valoris's eyes tightened.

"Sweet mother of god....like we need any reminder of their power....." He turned and waved the M.I's over, showing them the scene. Their eyes widened in awe and horror, but they quickly mastered it and told the other eight members in the other dropship, who were watching the same thing. He smiled. They weren't going to be surprised by this. "Good try, Warmaster."

The Pelicans landed on the landing pad, which the Chronosians were waiting at. The shuttles landing thrusters jetted out air and the wheels touched the ground. Silence reigned for a few seconds, then the drop bays opened and touched down. The Sergeant leading the bodyguard barked out orders and the fourteen Mobile Infantry troopers filed out and quickly formed two straight, equal lines of seven. The Archon walked out, followed by the Sergeant and the Lieutenant of the squad, and Sara. They moved in between the two lines and came face to face with the Warmaster. The air was so thick with tension, you could literally make a blanket with it. The wind blew, and the cloaks and hair of the assembled flapped about wildly. After a long moment, Valoris spoke.

"I am Archon Valoris of the Terran Federation. I have come upon your request, Warmaster."

***Zanthus***

The Divine Celestial Naval Expeditionary force had already split its strength in half, sending fifty of the powerful vessels to aid the Chronosian efforts as well as act as liasons when the call went out. The expeditionary forces second wing, as the armada was being designated communicated their intentions to aid the Chronosian fleets, as well as offering the services of the Morgenraete divisions and the Divine Celestial Cavaliers to their allies on the ground. They waited for the Chronosian Warmaster to respond. As they waited they recieved a transmission from the King, High Marshall of the Tannelornian crusade force.They were to await the Duke of Eredon, Magnus Bartfeldt.

The King had decided the Duke and his forces would act as a liason between the council and the Tannelornian ground forces fighting in the Crusade. He had Chosen Lord Harfan Derecil, of the Morgenstern Fleet carrier Divinities grace to act as the Tannelornian liason of fleet operations. They would send two Lords of Tannelorn to the Council, to maximise the efficiency of their respective specialisations, as well as highlight the efficiency of the Tannelornian selective breeding progroms of the last twelve thousand years.

Only now, with the threat of Genetic stagnation looming have the classes been allowed full rights and priviledges to breed amongst each other at will, to stop the internal that has gripped Tannelorn in its recent history. It was truly a new era, the Divine Kingdom and the Grahfsbergs had been at each others throats for nearly one hundred years, competition that eventually lead to a bloody, ten year civil war.

Lord Derecil was growing impatient with the Duke, his arrival had been promised shortly, he hadnt realised that the Duke refused to go without his entire house staff. This had lead to a problem, there were few ships in Tannelorn capable of supporting that many troops. Eventually the DCNT had agreed to lend the Eternal to them, as a transport ship. It was the only ship capable of transporting an entire house of Knights, their men at arms, artillery and equipment as well as supplying them. The Eternal arrived some time after the DCNT had moved in to the system. A transmission was broadcast from the Eternal. The Duke Magnus Bartfeldt of Eredon, slayer of a thousand enemies on the fields of Hellesponto's, victor of the battle of Hellespontus was arriving to join the council. He had lead a counter attack against the enemy that trapped a massive force on the fields, slaughtering them until they were willing to surrender, which considering the enemy made it quite a slaughter indeed.

His talents for prescience were legendary amongst the circles of the Divine Knighthood, only equalled by his brother, who aided in drafting the battle plans that day, and lead the Tannelornian battle in the first Hellespontus war. Magnus victory was nothing short of brilliant, he has not failed to live up to the expectations of his King since that day, two hundred and fifty years ago.

He requested to greet the Warmaster personally, congratulating the forces of the Chronosians on their historic and total victory over Zanthus.
The Tannelornian ships hung in the stillness of space, awaiting a response from Warmaster Cabot, as well as directions to the landing site. Manners were everything in relations between soldiers. Honour could be easily slighted, but slights were not as easy to mend as they were to make. The Duke was confident however, that Knight to Knight, they would have no trouble coordinating with the Imperiums finest. Honour was everything to a Knight of Tannelorn, as was victory.

They were bred for battle and leadership, and for those tasks they had been trained and groomed for a very long time. They welcomed the chance to meet such dedicated soldiers as themselves.

"I am Cabot, Warmaster of the Imperium and instrument of the Emperor's Will within this...Unenlightened region. Where there is darkness, the Imperium shall bring the light of the Warp and the True Gods" He paused, chuckling for a moment, before gesturing to the Old City behind them, now the new Imperial Capital. Zanthus Primaris. Already the plans for a Hive were being drawn up...

"And what do you think of our new city? The shining capital of this world, rescued from the hands of the fool and the heretic. Already we have subjugated this world, and bring you all here to plan those that will follow." He turned, his honor guard moving with him as though they were a single entity, utterly disciplined. He gestured that his guests might follow.

"The Conclave shall begin once all are accounted for, already we have signals from Tannelorn forces, ready to join us in combat at the forefront of the Crusade, ready to pledge themselves to this monumental endeavor. The Gods favor us as their Chosen, and their blessings fall upon all who stand with us" The faintest hint of a smirk spirited across his face, before he paused, pressing a hand to his ear, whispering into a micro-bead.

Tannelornian forces are welcome to land at the southern docks. I shall greet them myself, make sure nothing interrupts the progress.

He turned, his blonde hair moving about his head like a mane "You will, of course forgive me. I have other guests to welcome. If you have any questions of our culture or intents, Achaeus and Brensis, my First and Second, shall be only too happy to aid you. Welcome to Zanthus"

With that, Cabot turned back towards the docks, looking skyward for the first signs of the warriors of Tannelorn.

Valoris listened to Cabot, his eyes taking in the surroundings. His honor guards might have been a bit much....but they always did like to flaunt their power. He raised an eyebrow as he and his guard moved as one as he turned to gesture at the city. Valoris and his entourage shifted their gazes and looked at the city. Smoke still rose here and there, the destruction frighteningly evident. The M.I's clenched their weapons tightly, some keeping their gaze straight ahead. They felt a weird presence in the air, whispering, insidious, attacking their heart and will. As soon as this was done the better. Though one recruit stared full-on at Cabot, his face full of awe.

The Archon would have been furious if he had seen it but he was too busy with what was in front of him. His eyes tightened as he saw Cabot smirk after mentioning the blessings. Blessings by a God, or even several, could be a miraculous event.....or a dark tragedy. "The city is quite impressive, more so will it be when you have transformed it fully under your reign."

"You will, of course forgive me. I have other guests to welcome. If you have any questions of our culture or intents, Achaeus and Brensis, my First and Second, shall be only too happy to aid you. Welcome to Zanthus" Valoris nodded.

"Understood." He turned to face Achaeus and Brensis. "So, where are we supposed to go for this meeting? I am eager to begin."

The two horizon transport shuttles carrying both Lord Derecil and his Divine Kingdom counterpart, Duke Magnus Bartfeldt rode swiftly down to the space docks, landing gently on the surface with little fanfare. The Duke and his men emerged from the shuttle on the left, it had been repainted in the livery of the Divine kingdom, rather then the slate red and dark black of the DCN standard. The Duke came with his closest knights, behind them walked their attendant men-at-arms, one hundred and twelve people in all made up the retinue.

The Duke and the rest of the Knights were dressed in fine plate mail, the archaic look belying the incredible technology of the prized armour. The Duke himself was tall, a face of hard angles, with blond hair in side burns and a full beard. As he approached the members of his retinue bowed on one knee to the Warmaster Cabot, the Duke himself bowing low to the ground, an honour that would normally be reserved only for the King of Tannelorn.

The Duke stood and approached, reversing his heavy, ornate sword within its scabbard and placing it pointing pommel first, scabbard resting on his forearm. "Warmaster Cabot, I am Duke Bartfeldt, Victor of the fields of Hellespontus, Duke of crumbled Eregon. I salute and commend you on your victory on this day, the fighting spirit of your Space Marines and men at arms is nothing short of legend, as is the strategic and tactical genius of their commander." The Duke offered the sword to the Warmaster.

"I greet you in the name of the King of the Divine kingdom, and in the name of the Divine Celestial Federation, please accept this most humble gift, upon this blade flowed the life's blood of a thousand Eldar on the fields of Hellespontus two hundred and fifty years ago, may it serve your arm as well as it has served mine." Duke Bartfeldt was offering the Warmaster the greatest token of respect a Tannelornian could offer, his blade to a warrior he considers to be his equal or superior.

Lord Rendacil however, simply stepped off the shuttle with his own retinue, several men of the Divine Celestial Cavaliers, and waited for the Dukes entrance to be finished. The Divine Celestial Navy was not as large on formality, but they did bow as the Knights of the Divine Kingdom did, to do any less would have been an insult.

Cabot accepted the blade, testing its weight in a hand clearly suited to war and conflict, twirling it ornately as he beheld the spectacle of the Tannelornian delegation displayed, without doubt, to him their honor and their humility. He let a smile break his scarred features, chuckling as he bade them all rise with one mighty hand.

"Rise. Rise and be joined as brothers in the spirit and endeavor of Crusade. There are none here who shall bow once all is said and done, once pacts are brought to bear and oaths of fratery signed. We shall be equals in this, and in all things, my friends." He grinned, a sharpened maw that had screamed oaths to Khorne over the canvas of dying worlds, a laughter that had marked the doom of entire races beneath well-honed Chronosian bloodlust.

"You are but the second of our guests to arrive here upon hallowed Zanthus, our new capital as it were, but the Telrosians ought to provide some sport for you, as shall my own staff. Representatives of every world, every Regiment, every Legion, have gathered in this city beneath my Banner. To conquer in the Emperor's name, and let the God's feast upon this diseased existence.

Will you join me?" He gestured, turning to walk them to the Arena, wherein waited the true feasting of the day.

-----------------------

"The meeting shall take place in the Arena of the Old City. The Warmaster thought it a pleasing irony that the declarations to complete the subjugation of this world and this Cluster, take place where the old inhabitants gathered to watch the blood sports. Our lord has a most refined fascination in such things" Achaeus bowed his head lightly.

"The feasting shall commence as soon as all our brethern are gathered, and shall not cease till the furtherment of the Crusade is determined. There are many powers who would oppose us, who would question the true right of Chronosia to dominate as it does, to question the will of the Gods themselves. It is Khorne's will taht this galaxy be bled dry of its weakness, forged anew in strength.

We ensure that here in Charybdis, this is observed. And that through the martial prowess of every warrior, the goals of each Legion, each loyal to a God of the Warp, shall be fulfilled.

The Emperor would not have us shirk from our duty, nor leave this place unpurified as now we find it, a tainted cess-pool of heresy and doubt."

OOC: well, 1) The signal was encrypted and intended only for my allies, and 2) You honestly think attacking one of the single most well defended spots in the Cluster so early on is wise? I wouldn't say its unwelcome, so much as personal folly...We'll see where it goes.

OOC: well, 1) The signal was encrypted and intended only for my allies, and 2) You honestly think attacking one of the single most well defended spots in the Cluster so early on is wise? I wouldn't say its unwelcome, so much as personal folly...We'll see where it goes.

OK. That makes sense. I think I misunderstood your initial post. I read it as being sent both by courier and encrypted message. I see where my mistake was. Is it possible to have my post deleted? I don't want to interfere. As far as personal folly for attacking Zanthus, I am reminded of the Spartan's efforts to infiltrate a small group into the Persian's war camp in an effort to kill Xerxes at the Battle of Thermopylae in 480 BC. Foolhardy? Perhaps. But when faced with a numerically superior (vastly so in my case) foe, you take every chance you can get. I can see however, that it would have been next to impossible for me to have intercepted the message now that I understand clearly the manner in which it was sent. I can pull my post. I can simply continue to prepare. I'll get my chance to exchange close range bolter fire with you Chaos scum soon enough. :D

OK. That makes sense. I think I misunderstood your initial post. I read it as being sent both by courier and encrypted message. I see where my mistake was. Is it possible to have my post deleted? I don't want to interfere. As far as personal folly for attacking Zanthus, I am reminded of the Spartan's efforts to infiltrate a small group into the Persian's war camp in an effort to kill Xerxes at the Battle of Thermopylae in 480 BC. Foolhardy? Perhaps. But when faced with a numerically superior (vastly so in my case) foe, you take every chance you can get. I can see however, that it would have been next to impossible for me to have intercepted the message now that I understand clearly the manner in which it was sent. I can pull my post. I can simply continue to prepare. I'll get my chance to exchange close range bolter fire with you Chaos scum soon enough. :D

OOC: Of course you will, and while noble, a Thermopylaean effort of holding off my vast legions is rather outmoded in these futuristic times. Noble, but still stupid :P

You go to edit post to delete your post :P

Valoris listened carefully as Achaeus talked. So, they would be gathering in an arena, a gladiatorial one at that. He didn't know who to be more disgusted with, the planet's former rulers or the Chronosians. Was war the only thing they knew about?! The Archon pushed it away and returned to his diplomatic calm. The Chaos Champion still continued to spill out glorified worships of the Chaos Gods and how the Cluster would soon be "purified" by them. Though he didn't want to wade through that crap, he did learn they would be feasting once everyone had arrived and that they would not stop until they had finalized plans for the Cluster.

For once, he allowed himself a smile. It was a determined and slightly feral one. While he did favor peace and did not like war, when it came, he fought it with the viciousness of a caged animal. And his allies had called for help, specifically Chronosia, as well as giving him the gift of new worlds to conquer and add to the Republic. He was not above paying that favor back at all. Nodding to Achaeus, he replied. "Very well, thank you for the information. A question, though, what exactly do those who aid Chaos but are not worshiping it gain? Just curious." Sara noticed the Tannelorn arrivals and walked over, half of the M.I's pulling off to follow her. Stepping up next to Cabot, she nodded at him before turning to the Lord's and bowed.

"Greetings, great Lords of Tannelorn. I am Sara Westman, part of the Federation entourage here and the head of Federation Military Intelligence. I am glad to see more of our allies here and look forward to working with you in the future."

The Katana-class Dreadnought that came out of hyperspace and into the Zanthus System was alone in its class and type. Among the vast host of floating cathedral-like capital ships of the Imperium and the numberless horde of troop ships, carrying upon them the mighty fist of Remiel de Drakan.

Standing beside the view port on the bridge looking out at this vast display of armament was Grand Marshal Tiberius II, commander of the Thrashian Army in the Charybdis Cluster. The Ardent Venture, as his escort dreadnought was called, coasted into a holding pattern near the first check point of the Chronosian fleet.

Tiberius turned to his aide-de-camp. "Make sure we're broadcasting Thrashian signatures. Send a transmission that the Thrashian delegate to the Warmaster's conference has arrived."

"Yes sir, Marshal."

Tiberius was more than a little uneasy as he stood looking out into space. The fact that other Galactic Imperial forces were in the Charybdis Cluster had not been realized until only a few short days before, and where as they would have great cause to celebrate and greet their brother-in-arms as normally, they were not there for the same intent as the Crusade. In fact, Thrawn's past four-year long campaign had been a project of creating territory that existed outside the normal Galactic Imperial ruling junta, to be a private estate of sorts for Emperor Treize and Thrashia. Ever since they had entered the cluster they had been faced with more and more confusing problems.

Thrawn in all of his wisdom however had disregarded all talk among the high commanders of withdrawing from the cluster and hoping to avoid any attention. Instead he decided to send Tiberius to the meeting on Zanthus and declare Thrashian support in this new crusade. It would be to their benefit, he had said.

Tiberius just followed orders. He was not the political acute mind that his superior was when it came to it. His position in this situation was tenuous as it could get.

"Sir," reported the ship's captain, "We've just received a welcome signal. We're getting a reply transmission now."

Duke Bartfeldt nodded towards the Warmaster once more. "Aye, of course Warmaster, it would be a priviledge and an honour to join such a leader of men as yourself, besides." The Duke grinned, speaking low "it is always good for two old soldiers to compare notes after an epic battle, after all warfare is a most fluid form of humanities essence, like in ourselves, stagnation leads to defeat, I would be indebted to you to learn of how you won this great victory so quickly and easily."

"Our own victory on Yorim was only won through the sheer firepower our men at arms were able to support us with, and the catastrophic radiological damage to the biosphere, had they not been amphibians, we would still be fighting in that charnel house." the Duke stated very seriously, the battle on Yorim had been a start for many of the commanders of Tannelorn. Conventional battle was nearly impossible against the teeming hordes of the Octonoid mechanised units, inferior in every way except sheer numbers. The battle had been won through the vast number of nuclear weapons a Tannelornian army brought to war, experts in the fields of radiologicals and nearly immune to lingering radiation, Tannelornians favoured such weapons for their power and small size to power ratio.

Those forces who did not rely upon large amounts of nuclear saturation weaponry took heavy losses in the following battles to take the cities. The GAP were nearly massacred at their beachhead. Only the DCC were able to effectively fight the hordes of enemy units without aid from heavy reaction weaponry.

"Of course we can save such things for the feast, Warmaster." The Duke bowed once more as the entourage prepared to leave. The DCNT delegation also prepared to leave, the Duke after all was in charge of diplomatic proceedings, as they turned however they noticed the approach of the Telrosians.


Lord Rendacil stepped forward to greet them, raising his fist to his chest in salute. "Greetings friends and allies of Telros, I am Lord Rendacil, liason for Naval activities, assigned to work with our allies here on Zanthus to properly coordinate our fleet, we hope with the help of all of our friends here today that we can forge our fleets from seperate war parties in to an unstoppable force." The Lord was all formalities, this of course was due to the fact that knights of the DCNT were generally isolated from the rest of society, they understood the dangers in differeing cultures and stepped lightly, observing more then acting, and acting when necessary. It was a side effect of the volatile politics of Sol, of which the Tannelornian navy was most definetly involved in. The two parties prepared to exit the port with the Warmaster, knowing full well the history which was being made here in this place, the name of Zanthus would become known across the galaxy as the beginning of the end for those who would defend Charybdis, and the beginning of a new era of conquest across the stars.

The arena was a vast circle of cold stone and gravel, its walls engraved in the flowing script of the Zanthans. Banners hung from every surface now, marked with oaths in Chronosian Gothic and a thousand warp-spawned tongues. Upon the high battlements, the scent of burning flesh wafted down upon the gathered multitudes, from the smouldering corpses of the once noble leaders of the world. Some had been hung, chain cutting deep into charred throats, others had been impaled or crucified as their flesh seemed to burn eternally in infernal flame, lighting the arena with immaterial lights.

Skulls lined the arena edge, piled up to mimic the walls, the spoils in the name of Khorne a blasphemous accompaniment to the celebration that was to come. The Gods had blessed this world, and through Cabot the more primal areas had been given over to the Blood God. Thousands of his devotees filled the stands, screaming with unholy oaths, each bearing ritual scars where they had pledged themselves eternal to the Warmasters cause.

As Cabot and the first of his guests entered the arena the chamber erupted in howls of praise, feral cants of loyalty to the Ruinous Powers, to their victory over the Zanthan heathens. He raised his arms, basking in their adoration as he moved from his guests towards the centre where the great tables that held a sumptuous feast, gleaming goblets of wine and platters of good, dwarfed by the majesty of Cabot, whose voice rose above the cacophany.

"Brothers! Sons of the Emperor! Sons of Chaos, sons of Khorne! Our might has laid low all before us, shattered these heathen dogs and set them to the slaughter!

Now the blessings of the Gods are upon us, for new allies join us in the spirit of brotherhood They are kin and they shall be sanctified by blood as our true brethern" The roaring crowd almost bayed in celebration, their attention and their drive focussed by the presence of the great warrior, the Warmaster.

"Each of our allies shall be honored in the ways and rites of the warrior lodges!" He bellowed "Each amongst us shall accept their aid and subjugate every last star beneath our heels! This is a day of joy! This is our Victory Day!" He turned, regarding the delegates with a smile, just as the Thrashians were being ordered to land and proceed to the Arena.

Much was proceeding, swiftly and well, and the Thrashian arrival, good strong Imperial support, could only fuel the progress of the endeavor. That Zanthus be but the first step in the war that would change the face of the galaxy itself....

It was a fine display of might, thought Kycilia, having watched the Warmaster's speech. Men...so typical.

"Ma'am, the fleet has been assembled and is awaiting your order to jump," said the comms officer.

"Alright then," she began. "Form the fleet around the Hepaestus and prepare to fold on my mark."

"Yes, m'lady!"

Upon her orders, the many ships that had been prepared began to flutter about, criss-crossing each other to create their picture-perfect fleet formation. Dozens of Musai Argos and Chivvay Fenrirs vied to reach their assigned locations, as the ten Gwazine Ras formed around the massive seven kilometer long Dolos Odin-class flagship. After a few minutes, the fleet had made their formation near perfect, and was now awaiting the Admiral's command to fold to their destination.

"The fleet reports that they are ready, m'lady," stated the comms.

"Good. All ships, fold in five...four...three...two...one...fold!"

Upon her command, the massive carrier group turned into large, bright lights, disappearing into the void as if they had just been vaporized. Several seconds later, they arrived at their destination, transmitting Zeon IFF codes to the nearby forces.

This is the Carrier Group Hepaestus here on request by the Warmaster's loyal allies, the Zeon Empire. We await the Warmaster's bidding.

Force Composition

Hepaestus
-1000x Rick Dom
-500x Gelgoog
-100x Gelgoog Commander

Gwazine Ra x10
-4000x Zaku
-2000x Rick Dom

Chivvay Fenrir x20
-4000x Zaku
-2000x Rick Dom

Musai Argos x40
-400x Komusai
-4000x Zaku
-2000x Rick Dom

The landing went as smoothly as could be expected. The Chronosians were well ordered in their affairs when it came to military protocol, even if they were somewhat over-zealous in acting out some of their commands. It was a trait that many Thrashians found to be counter-active, as it let discipline slide a bit; however the effectiveness of massed hordes shouting the names of chaos gods can't exactly be ignored.

It always lacked grace and true honor thought Grand Marshal Tiberius. He sat in his flight chair next to a few aides and Sammael. Even more than meeting with Cabot, it was having to be with Sammael that truly disturbed Tiberius deep down. Sammael was not a person that could ever truly exist along side other humans. Only Thrawn had ever harnessed his potential.

Sammael was a small man. His hair was lank and looked unwashed. His skin was sallow and pale. His eyes were the only thing that betrayed his presence and made him different from a corpse; his eyes were entirely red with white iris'. It took all of Tiberius' will power to not shiver whenever the unpleasant fellow looked at him. But he was useful to Thrawn and had been sent with Tiberius under the title of "personal guard".

"We're landing now Marshal," said the pilot.

"Good. We'll be arriving at the arena that they mentioned, so be sure not to miss it. Though I believe we hardly will."

"Yes sir."

The lander came down outside the arena on an extension landing pad. All of Zanthus had been changed into the mad dream of a chaotic poet it seemed to Tiberius as he walked down the down ramp and onto the landing area. Following him came two white-blue armored clonetroopers of the 501st and Sammael. A herald of some sort was there to greet them.

"I am Grand Marshal Tiberius II, commander of the Thashian Army in the Charybdis Cluster, and 4th Lord of the Tandren. I am here to speak with the Lord Warmaster Cabot."

"Grand Marshal" A voice rumbled from the bowed head of the adjutant who now raised his face to meet the eyes of the Thrashian, eyes that gleamed bright green through the eye slits of his bronze mask. It was carved in the visage of a snarling Khornate daemon, a howling visage that hid his features and replaced them with a blood-stained beast from deepest nightmare. He was clad in the dull bronze and red armor of one of Cabot's Space Marines, skulls lining his belt in proud display.

"The Warmaster expects you at the Main Arena for the preparations. A feast is to be held in honor of the Triumph, as well as to celebrate our allies presence here and their own victories" He seemed to smirk, as though remembering this had demonstrated again the Chronosian's dedication. "He also wanted me to mention that pending situation reports from Thrashian components, and your future performance, he'll be putting in an advance recognition to the Emperor's." He used the term with relish, savoring the powerful military status of the Emperor Remiel, as Imperial Warmaster, and the Emperor Palpatine as political figurehead.

"The 501st are good soldiers, we've heard much-" He paused, frowing slightly before raising a hand to his hear, tapping his micro-bead "Let it be known that in the name of the Warmaster, blessed of Khorne, that the Zeon party are invited planetside. Let his will be done by your hallowed troops, in the name of the Emperor most high, and the Gods higher still." He returned his attention to the Thrashians.

"If you'd follow me."

And so he tread that path through the city, so much of it still in ruin. Craftsmen tended to the broken walls and shattered streets, still patrolled by armor and infantry. Children stared from the streets, spattered with mud and dust. Prisoners limped forward, shock sticks slammed into their sides as they seemed to be forced along the same streets as the Thrashians, clad in simple rags. Some wore clothes, others robes, some the remains of uniforms.

All were being lead into the dark spectacle of the arena, herded around the edges, right beside the skulls and a deep network of interconnecting ditches which wove from the arena edge all the way inward, a great bronze pot at its centre, suitably removed from the dining experience.

Duke Bartfeldt watched the Warmasters speech with an air of calm, as he awaited the rest of the guests arrival he noted the decorum and the feast itself. This was the ultimate expression of the true spirit of the warrior. The feast, the spoils of war itself being devoured. It was a testament to the predator within man, who in itself holds no equal but itself. What a celebration, this feast to the ultimate predator, the one animal in this universe whose only predator was himself and himself alone.

The rest of the Tannelornians felt the same, his delegation joined the soldiers in their revelry. The Duke approached the Warmaster. "Aye this is a great day, men such as yourselves are worthy of the utmost respect, long has it been since we have met others whose warrior spirit and understanding of the greater truths of this universe itself was akin to our own." the Duke bowed, he deeply respected the warriors of the Imperium, seeing them as the brothers they were. "Much is changing in this galaxy, the winds themselves have changed, they blow the way of the right path, they are in our favour. The pacification of this strategic area of space will be only the beginning, wont it my friend..this Crusade is only beginning with Charybdis." he grinned softly. He understood the mind of this man, one who was able to bring together a dozen disparate factions and forge them in to an unstoppable army that could bring down the stars themselves.

"Which way shall we go, Warmaster, where will this Crusade take us?" the Duke asked wistfully.

"The crusade may take us many places," said Grand Marshal Tiberius behind the two. He had just entered the seating area for the dignitaries, his escort coming up behind him. He bowed formally to the Warmaster and gave a curt nod of recognition to the Duke Bartfeldt.

"But then the end result will be victory," he finished. "My lord Cabot, I am Grand Marshal Tiberius, commander of the Thrashian Army in the Charybdis Sector. I greet you on behalf of the Emperor Treize Kushrenada and Grand Admiral Thrawn who both send their good will and hopes for a successful crusade."

Sammael walked up past the talking dignitaries, entirely ignoring anything that resembled protocol, and starred down into the arena. He found it captivating. So many skulls and so much blood. It was almost like one of his dreams. How delightful.

"You are all welcome in my court." He returned their bows, his mighty girth shuddering as he moved. He was like a giant, a god incarnate, a symbol of the undying might of Khorne. He had been baptised in the blood of entire races, the death of entire worlds. He had been chosen as Remiel's instrument, commanding fellow Primarchs and their legions, even the mighty regiments of the Imperial Guard, in one of the most awe-inspiringly vast undertakings in Imperial History.

"The Crusade can but move onwards, onwards to a total victory. The enemies we shall face shall be many, but they shall be split beneath our heel. We are the chosen of the Gods! United in warrior spirit, there are none who can stand against us." He gestured, and bronze masked Guardsmen and Marines moved into place behind the rows of prisoners, each bearing a chainweapon. "I would offer sanctification in the name of Khorne for you, my most humbled guests" He gestured.

The first Guardsman howled as he grabbed the prisoner by his la nk hair, forcing his head down before he tore through his neck in a single movement of the chainsword. Blood gouted like a fountain from the stump, pulsing and pumping through vein and artery. He spasmed, held in place by the Guardsman as he forced it into the trench before him, giggling maniacally.

"This does not have to be...." The next one whispered "Khorne spares those who swear to him! Swear as we have sworn! Seal the pact and know the fire of the Blood God in your soul! Become a warrior invincible!"

"Y-yes..." He hissed. "Please, Gods, yes! I'll swear." The soldier was dragged before the Warmaster, on his knees before the colossal figure.

"Swear it."

"I swear....I swear."

The Guardsman moved from behind the soldier, handing the rusted edge of a blade to the Warmaster, its edge crackling with debased runes to the Ruinous Powers. Deliberately, slowly, he drew it across his pal. He guardsman held the soldier, raising his hand, slashing it with another polluted blade. The soldier winced as the Warmaster took his hand, meshing their flesh, twisting the bleeding gap in his flesh against the soldiers.

"You are mine now. Take him, train him. Let Khorne do his work!" Cabot chuckled throatily, watching as others were pledged by maddened demagogues over the rivers of blood, watching as others resisted and were sacrificed. He turned back to his guests.

"Skulls for the skull throne! Blood for the Blood God! Can there be a greater devotion? Sit! Feast! We shall speak of things to come, of the day when we drown this cluster in its own blood...And drown out the Stars themselves"

Sara smiled. "Indeed, Lord Rendacil. I am sure that together, there will not be a force in the galaxy that will be able to stop us." She saw the Warmaster turn and head into the Arena, and Valoris waved to her to follow. She turned and bowed to Rendacil. "I must go, forgive me. I will speak to you later, if I can." Jogging away, she came back to Valoris, whose face was set in a grim mask. Sara knew that he didn't like what he was seeing with Chronosia. The brutality, the pure evil, it was suffocating to the peaceful Archon, but he knew it was important to do his duty and to ensure that relations with Chronosia went well, so onward he went. They entered the arena, and the Federation entourage struggled to keep themselves from gagging at the smells and the sights. The Archon looked in horror at the burning bodies of the world's former leaders and the mutilated bodies of various people, now unrecognizable to the world, thanks to Chaos.

Clenching his hands, Valoris endured it and listened to the Warmaster's speech. It seemed to be tailored to the throng of warriors which he commanded and it excited them into a frenzy. At the end of his speech, he turned to smile at them, which the Archon merely returned with a steady, determined gaze. He didn't like what was going on, but he was an ally and it was his duty to remain loyal. Besides, he kept his promises, no matter what. The Tannelorn delegate spoke, asking where the Crusade would go. And the Warmaster replied. Another booming speech about the Chaos Gods and how glory would come to them. Then came another horror. One of Chronosia's maniacal Guardsmen dragged out a prisoner, cut off his head and forced the blood to go into the trough, heading into the pot. Then another came, who was forced into pledging himself to Chaos, by the Warmaster himself.

Valoris merely closed his eyes and gathered his will, to endure and continue to do his duty. Waiting until he was done, he spoke up. "I would personally like to know, aside from the glorifications of our allies, and Chronosia's, well-earned victories, what shall we be discussing?"

"The future, of course!" The Warmaster almost cackled. "This cluster shall fall to our combined forces and to combined efforts of our leaders and our strength of arms. Many of those here are but ambassadors and Leaders in this theatre alone. But you shall be as kings of your own realms. We shall plan the new moves, the next endeavours...And the next great opportunities."

He moved, taking his seat at the head of the grand table, beckoning for the others to join him. "There can be great kinship between men in command, and great kinship amongst the troops we lord over. There must be a tighter bond between us, a pact that cannot be broken by disagreements or argument. We must unify as never before if we are to triumph against our divided enemies.

Therefore I would suggest that we enmesh our troops with the notion of the warrior lodge, kinship through battle, brotherhood through the shared life of a soldier. That any man at arms might find respite and conversation amongst his brothers. To us in command, I would suggest a more unified command circle."

"While that is a nice sentiment my lord Warmaster...I am afraid I am not authorized to accept that," said Tiberius. "Grand Admiral Thrawn is here on express orders from his Excellency to help your crusade. However we are also here to gain more systems for ourselves as well. We've already encountered an enemy that poses, perhaps, the largest threat to this entire operation."

Sammael turned from the balcony view. "Hey, hey! I thought there would be gladiatorial fights. This is is just stupid sacrificing of weaklings."

Tiberius turned to Sammael. "Silence, do not speak out of turn."

Valoris sat down and raised an eyebrow. "I don't see why not. A warrior lounge would be interesting, and it would increase cooperation. Just....not so much of the rituals, if you catch my meaning." He glanced at the bodies strewn on the Arena before continuing. "And a more unified command? How exactly do you plan on doing that?" At the Thrashian response, the Archon turned. "I am sure whichever systems we conquer, we keep, so why not let your troops have some R&R in the lodge? Plus, it would be a great way to combine our cultures?"

"Indeed. And I decree now that whatever is taken shall be held by those with strength and will enough to hold them. Thrawn is a powerful man, a wise man and I doubt him not, but it is unseemly to suggest that he would send you to my conclave without understanding that together we are stronger. You will, of course, enlighten us to this new threat".

He chuckled lightly. "Your equerry is wise to ask. There shall be gladiatorial games afterwards, for now there is the need for feast and for sacrifice."

Cabot turned to face Valoris. "A warrior Lodge would achieve this indeed, and there would not necessarily be so much ritual as is here shown. A unified command will be achieved by our cooperation, by working together as a cohesive whole rather than working seperately, our ambitions and objectives clashing."

Valoris nodded. "Well, as long as it is kept down, then fine. A unified command sounds, reasonable, but how would it be done? How exactly would we carry out tactical operations if we become one bloated force? We may need to strike quickly and a large horde cannot accomplish that."

"We specialise. Each working to their strength, pursuing different angles while consorting with an overall governing body. The Lord Generals and warriors of the Crusade, each striking as a fine and precise instrument of war." He laughs "We are not one bloated force, we are a sinewy hydra, ready to bite and tear and squeeze the life from this sector of space."

The Duke Bartfeldt allowed the Warmaster to answer the others, nodding in welcome to Grand Marshal Tiberius, before asking his question. "You believe you have faced an enemy greater then the others inside this area of space?" The Duke asked Tiberius politely. "I believe that somethings would best not be left till after the celebrations, I believe it would be in our best interests to learn of these foes as we feast and drink. After all reminiscing on old war stories is always an entertaining affair, especially when it could yield useful information to the Crusade." The Duke nodded to his adjutants, they knelt to one knee, fist against their heart before rising and leaving to contact the city-rock. It was time for the men to come down and enjoy the hospitality of their guests. After all this was a celebration and a ceremony of bonding all at once.

Lord Rendacil spoke now. "Aye, it is a worthy plan, perhaps the king should hold such a feast for our own forces." he grinned. "There seems to be much competition between the Replicant-girl soldiers of the Grand Army of the Prefecture and the Divine Celestial Cavaliers. So far this has been healthy, of course but we will need to reign it in as soon as possible. Your wisdom in such matters would likely bring us much foresight on the issues that may arise." Rendacil bowed towards the Warmaster.

"We shall have our own men land here to join the feasting as soon as possible, Warmaster." Rendacil spoke to one of his officers, who promptly left. Both to report to the king on the possibility of such a solution to the GAP/DCC problem as well as to allow the men and women to come ashore.

"As for our individual talents, we know what they are, but others may not know as well, in this way we must learn of each others methods, doctrines and war machines so that we would know best how to compliment each other in battle."

"This I imagine though, is also covered at least in a unit scale by the warrior lodges, here and now we must do the bravest thing any commanders could do." he grinned. "Be honest with ourselves and then with each other, if we fail to learn lessons from each other, we cannot learn them from the enemy." Rendacil finished. "My friends tonight is a monumental night, tonight we shall forge a pact of Iron and blood. The palpable sense of unstoppable purpose is thick in the air, holding everything in its grasp. Tonight is a destined night, all we will strive and fight for rests upon this moment in time." he smiled. "We are up to the challenges ahead, Destiny has only one path for us now."

"One path indeed. To victory" Cabot raised his glass, before bringing it up to his lips, draining it. It was as though they were truly sealing the pact they spoke of, a pact of blood, a pact of iron. A covenant between men. He chuckled lightly, glancing at those gathered. Fear, awe, disgust, brotherhood. So many conflicting emotions warring to the fore. One could not admire the Chronosians and be sickened by their power at the same time, neither could they resist the dark suggestion of Chronosian might.

This was power, its dark cup offered up to those willing to seize it, and with it seize victory. The Chronosians offered the means and cooperative basis that could deliver to them Charybdis intact, if they would but submit to the idea of the Chaos warriors, and the proposals set forth by their Master.

Valoris grinned at Cabot's words considering the unified command. "Ah, good, I was hoping it wasn't just going to be a horde. A horde has it's uses, but when we don't know fully what is out there, and we intend to conquer all we can, it is better to remain mobile. Of course, I assume we will discuss who will do what and in what manner when we begin the talks, am I correct?" He quieted when he heard the Tannelorn stand up and begin talking. The Archon was amazed at his words. Not only were they elegant, but they were well said and had meaning behind them. He may not agree with their fixation on the honor of battle and everything that went with it, but he did like the man. This made the Chaos presence more endurable.

He glanced back over at the Warmaster, who drank from a cup and seemed to be assessing them, as they were him. The Archon looked around, thinking, before returning to the gathering. "Well, Warmaster, shall I call down my warriors and have them mingle with the rest of our allies while we discuss our next move, assuming that everyone is here?" He gazed around, looking to see if everyone was there.

Cabot nodded "You may. In the spirit of friendship, all warriors are welcome in these halls of Zanthus. They are welcome in the ideal of brotherhood and of unity, for only united by our common goals shall we lay low the infidels who from all asides assail us. We would know more of our enemies by pooling our resources, by combining our intents." He chuckled softly.

"Only together can we dominate all of Charybdis, and be as Gods amongst these worlds....These unspoiled orbs that hold so much vast promise. Surely you can appreciate the worth inherent in each sphere we subjugate, be it in the name of the Gods or of mortal rulers. There can be only triumph."

Tiberius took in all the chatter together. It was interesting to listen too, even though he wasn't politically astute enough to add anything more than what was already said, or to take advantage of an off side comment. He sometimes wished he had the same brains for politics as he cousin, Count Mann of Talhern.

"I believe a feast would be quite enjoyable. My escort, a company of the 501st Legion, would I think find it enjoyable to see the skills of other warriors...perhaps while we feast a show of arms can be made? I believe that would quite fantastic. And over good food and drink we can discuss in detail those anomalies which we have all encountered thus far in the Charybdis."

Sammael's hands gripped the stone balcony so hard that cracks began to appear in it. Sammael's eyes continued to absorb all that was taking place and his other senses teemed with information as they too took in his surroundings. It was wonderful...but it was lacking real combat...when would the gladiator fights happen?

Sammael turned his head and saw the Chaos lord speaking with the Grand Marshal and other important looking people. He didn't care one wit about them really, but then Thrawn had given him this mission...he couldn't let his desires wax that over...but it was so HARD! He glared back down into the center of the arena.

More helpless victims were being cut into pieces, their life blood flowing like a thunderous river upon the sand. But theres nothing to it! He saw a tall chaos space marine standing on the arena floor watching the proceedings. Sammael smiled and turned to the great lords.

"Lord Cabot...can I ask your permission to have fun? Can I challenge one of your warriors?"

Cabot chuckled, watching as servitors brought forth the steaming plates of food, rich and salted meats from the furthest corners of the Imperium, fruits and vegetables from countless crops of agri-worlds. He reached out, picking up a sliver of meat between two gleaming claw-fingers and raising it to his mouth, devouring it utterly.

"Eat first, friend. Eat and save your strength. For we shall see a spectacle, a spectacle that any of you are welcome to take part in." He turned to Tiberius, smirking lightly. "Though should your Equerry be killed I trust you shall not hold his own eagerness against me."

He rose, the great goblet in his hand now filled again with wine. "This is a glorious day. A day of victory. A day of triumph. A day that marks a new age. To a new era! To brotherhood! To victory!"

Tiberius took the goblet of wine that was offered him by a servant and rose it in the air to match Cabot's toast. He smiled and brought it to his lips. The wine was sweet and fell over the tongue quite well. It was indeed very good. Tiberius allowed himself a second gulp and then brought the cup back down.

"Indeed, to Victory and Brotherhood!" Tiberius said. He sat down in a chair and began eating a few of the delicacies laid out by Chronosian servants. "And no, Samael rules his own fate and I shall be none the worse without his company. I do not believe Grand Admiral Thrawn would have it any other way."

"The Grand Admiral seems wise indeed" Cabot smirked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Wise enough that we trust those he sends to our endeavour. Many view the Thrashians with distaste, but I have always been fascinated by the ways of your culture. Strong, stalwart, even against adversity.

It is no wonder that Remiel speaks so highly of them, in his capacity as Imperial Warmaster, to which I bring my own gifts. He fulfills much the same role in the Empire as I do within the Imperium, though with far greater autonomy."

The Archon nodded and turned to look at the Lieutenant. "Signal the fleet, have them send down the Mobile Infantry, they have been granted leave until I rescind the order. They are to meet at the lodge and mingle with the other warriors, and to get to know them. They will be fighting side by side for a long time, so they will need to get to know each other." He nodded to the Lieutenant who made the call. Valoris then turned to his plate, where he sipped wine from the goblet and began to eat the meal set out before him.

The fleet in space received the call and the M.I's quickly headed to the dropships, eager for some R&R time. The dropships deployed from the ships, carrying 40,000 Mobile Infantry troopers down to the planet surface, to the lodge that had been designated with the coordinates they had been given.

The Duke listened to the others before speaking once again. "I am sure many of my Knights would wish to participate." he grinned softly. "My Knights of course are always willing to face a worthy adversary, whether it be on the field of battle or in the form of a duel. As well it would be good for them, after all they missed the fighting against the deviant scum of mars which killed Ivan Pavlowski, beloved hero to the Federation and the League itself, in such a dishonourable manner." he snarled out the words. "Warriors face each other in open battle, they do not use trickery and traps to ensnare a foe in to helplessness." he looked away for a moment, paying respect to the fallen hero.

"However, I did wish to mention something to you all before the nights revelry begins in earnest." he bowed to his comrades. "We have a suggestion for the possible direction which the crusade may take, a next step as it were." he grinned softly. "We were going to do something similiar ourselves, as we entered this area of space we sent out scouts, searching for the most powerful hegemonies and power bloc's in Charybdis, of course they were put on a tight leashe, we did not wish our presence to be immediately known." he paused a moment, looking accusationally over at Lord Rendacil, who simply raised an eyebrow and shrugged his shoulders.


"However, we believe that one of the keys to breaking Charybdis is the morale of its inhabitants. After all, if the largest power amongst them is scattered and broken before them, they may not wish to share the same fate." he looked over at Warmaster Cabot. "We believe that smashing the largest sovereign entities, or group of entities as quickly as well as brutally as possible, would win us the most worlds with the least bloodshed in the long run." he paused for a moment, trying to read the faces of his fellow warlords. "If we crush the smaller domains one by one first, the stronger domains may have time to mobilise, perhaps even ally with one another, this could threaten the Crusade. Our strengths are our unity and organisation, theirs are sheer numbers." he smiled. "This I wished for us to consider while we enjoy the feast, because after all we are warriors, its why we are here today. This is a time of joyous celebration of glorious victories, of comradery, tonight we shall feast, drink and partake in tests of strength, skill and steel, but we must also remember the destiny that has brought us here today. We must consider the daunting task ahead of us even as we celebrate the victories we have already achieved."

"Charybdis shall be ours, or our corpses shall rot here in shame and dishonour for all eternity, I swear this Oath tonight on every shred of honour I have, on our beloved home, now gone forever and on Heaven itself." he finished and took a long pull from his cup, emptying the contents in one swift motion in to his gullet. He grinned and called for a servant to bring him more. Now the Tannelornians would celebrate.

As the Tannelorn representative stood up and began to speak, the Archon paused and leaned back to listen. As the Duke began to speak, Valoris seemed to be entranced. The man reminded him of the days of old, during the Middle Ages when knights clashed upon the battlefield, and believed in the code of honor known as chivalry. He didn't have the heart to tell the man that sometimes you had to fight dirty, with stealth, and deceit, in order to make your people survived. There was one thing that this made them good at, though: War. The plan he spoke of was a rather interesting one and was the first productive comment on their war strategy he had heard all day. Leaning to his die, which the Lieutenant did as well, he spoke quietly to him. "Sound like a good plan, Lieutenant?" The soldier broke a smile, one of his rare ones.

"It's a damn good plan, and it fits with the way our boys and girls in the Mobile Infantry kick alien ass. I would approve it sir, but then, I am just a Lieutenant." Valoris chuckled.

"Trust me, these days, we need to take what we can get with advice." He nodded and they both leaned back to how they were previously. As the Duke finished and took a mighty gulp of his wine, the Archon began to speak. "Well said, my friend. That is an excellent plan and would be a great way to break our enemies in this Cluster. However, we must be careful to not let the remnants of their forces run away to form terrorist groups or rebellions. As soon as we conquer this stretch of space, I am looking forward to organizing and setting up the new planets, as I am sure all of you will be doing, to fit them under the Federations control. I am in favor of that plan, but of course, other ideas are welcome."

At the various landing pads of the city, the first wave of Mobile Infantry arrived. They came in their secondary power suits, the ones used when the main suits were ineffective, like when defending a planet. Around eight thousand M.I. troopers were disgorging from the troop transports. They moved out, in a nice, orderly fashion, hounded by their Sergeants to walk straight and act like a trooper. They had elected a man to lead the first wave, a veteran of the Human-Bug War and a capable commander, Commander Alec Russell. He was missing an arm and had a horrific-looking scar down his left cheek. Walking forward towards the port authority, he smartly saluted with his right arm and spoke.

"I am Commander Alec Russell, Hell's Eagles Fifth Company and commander of this bunch. I request entrance into the lodge which has been prepared for us."

The figure before him practically towered over him, clad in the characteristic black and scarlet plate which distributed information would mark as identifying him as a member of the Ascendant Daemons, Gabriel's legion. It held a censer in one hand, in which herbs gently burned, suffusing the air with an almost sepulchural air, while in the other it held a Crozius Arcanum high, debased and bent into the shape of an eight pointed star.

"I welcome you in the name of the Warrior Lodge. I am Apostle Etrius, Lodge Master. I welcome you in the spirit of Brotherhood, before the eyes of your peers." He bowed his head, his long black hair haloing him as he moved deeper into the room. Suspended on pillars of black marble, a higher tier arose, already bristling with Chronosians. Below, others sat, amiably taking place in conversation, while others brooded silently.

There were many in the large domed room, not merely Astartes, but Guardsmen as well, each seemingly embroiled in the fellowship to be found there, no longer just warriors, but men.

Brothers all.

Commander Russel gazed at the tall, armored Apostle with neutral eyes, sizing him up. He paused, his helmet blinking as it sifted through the records on Chronosia's military. This was....yes, he was part of the Ascendant Demons, a powerful legion indeed. The incense moved about the troopers but did nothing as their suits filtered it out through the air using their filtering systems. Russel nodded to him, as he introduced himself. "Greetings, Apostle. Thank you for greeting us. I can't wait for the day we fight in battle together, I hear you Chronosians have quite the party during battle." He grinned viciously before turning to face the mass of troopers. "Alright boys, the Chronosians have designated their lodge for all, so, go have some fun time. It's unlimited R&R until the Archon or SICON gives the say-so. Go have fun!" They all hooted and rushed in, quickly mingling with the scattered Astartes and Guardsmen, striking up conversations. Some traded war stories, others got drunk, while some merely sat down and fell asleep, taking some valuable sacktime. Alec ascended to the higher tier and smiled at the Chronosian Marines. He felt he needed to get to know the elite warriors he had heard about and would be fighting with. Besides, his nation was curious about them and he wanted to know more.

The Cult's "SOS Brigade" (a name with significance only known to Kimiko) had been traveling to the Charybdis Cluster when the fateful signal came. It was a fell signal, powerful to the sound and immediate in its urgency. The nefarious sorcerer, Alastair LaRouche, and the astropaths among his Rogue Psykers picked up the signal from Zanthus.

LaRouche immediately delivered the news to Kimiko, who nodded and said, "Excellent. This bodes well for our efforts; we shall make our case to the Conclave there and proceed to participate in earnest with our plan."

She looked out into the murky Emperyean, and after a few seconds, did an about face, grabbed Alastair by the shoulders and said, "Oh. My. GAWDS! This is so great! We're gonna be kings and queens, Allie! Fucking kings and queens! When we make our plea before the Conclave, we'll be able to join him in gaining glory for the Second Child and the Four Aspects!"

Alastair, unsurprised by this (Kimiko always had these mania fits), didn't wince as she grabbed him in a bearhug, and then let him go, saying, "Okay. Whew! Lemme breathe."

She took a deep breath, and then regained her serious composure. She then said, "Now. Let's go back to the business at hand. Alastair, tell the others to hold outside of Charybdis. Scrye me a portal to the bridges of the Petshop, the Painbringer, Southern Comfort, and Da Big Boss."

Alastair then uttered an incantation, and then the bridges were revealed. Badtoof Wallsmasha could be heard uttering, "Eh? Wot iz it, 'umie!?" The Dark Eldar on the ship Southern Comfort, Lords Marnan and Zann, said, "Y'all wanted to see us?" in the most unnerving voice.

Kimiko then said, "Gentlemen, adjust your headings to the world of Zanthus. I am feeding the coordinates to you now. You are to follow me to them immediately. Your men are to hold far outside the area. Especially you, Badtoof. I don't want that Big Mek of yours, Danbo, fucking everything up because he's bored. Capice?"

Badtoof grumbled, and said, "You'z a big botha, ya know dat? Why do I werk wiv ya again?"

Kimiko then said, "Because I need your help, and you need access to my guns in order to keep fighting. I cover you, you cover me. Remember the Noodle Incident? You'd be dead without me. And I would not recommend turning on me in the depths of the Warp. I know a few friends who would make you regret it."

She then flashed her lightning claws and smiled evilly, saying, "Do you hear me?"

Badtoof sighed, and said, "Fine...but bear in mind, I'z only listenin' cuz I'z on yer territory. When youz get to mine, don' expect me to be so generous."

"Good to hear," Kimiko shot back. "Now, gentlemen, we've wasted enough time. Let's move."

Thus, while the rest exited early, the others traveled on, until they hit Zanthus, holding outside the system. Exiting, Kimiko flashed a message to Zanthus.

"This is Eternal Prophetess Kimiko Ayasugi; servant of the Four Aspects of Chaos Undivided and leader of the Cult of the Second Child. I request entrance into the Zanthus system and permission to enter the Conclave, per your message."

"The Grand Admiral seems wise indeed" Cabot smirked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Wise enough that we trust those he sends to our endeavour. Many view the Thrashians with distaste, but I have always been fascinated by the ways of your culture. Strong, stalwart, even against adversity.

It is no wonder that Remiel speaks so highly of them, in his capacity as Imperial Warmaster, to which I bring my own gifts. He fulfills much the same role in the Empire as I do within the Imperium, though with far greater autonomy."

"Indeed you would be correct in that assumption, Lord Cabot," replied Tiberius. He sipped his wine and smiled. "My superior is one of few Thrashian commanders to retain the title given to him by both Lord Palpatine and his Excellency Treize, that of Warlord. As far as I remember I've never known a better commander."

Cabot smirked lightly in almost wry contemplation. "It is settled then, unity and strength, our own glories combined and unified into a great engine of conquest. For Empire and Imperium we fight, we struggle, we bring our might upon Charybdis. Men will tell tales of us for this, my brothers. Legends will spring into being on every shattered world.

They will tell of Gods from the sky, who came and laid low the faithless, who broke the bastions of the unclean! We shall rise up and be as Gods, divinely touched by the will of the Gods...Yes, that is our fate. To become legends on their backs, to rise up as never before and assert our control over yet more of space." He grinned.

"What are these fools next to us? What are the cowering natives before this alliance? Before the ancient power of this Conclave? To victory and blood! To glory!" He snarled his assent, raising his glass to his lips and draining it.

"How much, brethern? How much will you commit to the cause?"