Chapter 292: Departure
Hades had originally been waiting for Malcador to at least exchange a few words with them, but as if pressed for time—or perhaps because Malcador seemed to trust Mortarion (?), the old man directly dragged Hades onto the ship.
Luckily, there was still some time before the vessel was set to depart, so Hades leaned against the observation porthole, gazing at the bustling crowds beneath the great starship.
The most conspicuous figure was Mortarion, the giant standing tall, and then the hurriedly arriving Magos Korklan, his red robes strikingly vivid among the sea of white and green armor, even standing right beside the Primarch.
Then there were Garro, Vorx, and several of the administrative officers he had brought with him… farther off, Hades could see Bast preparing to rush over.
Still farther away, he spotted the mortals of the Hadeshound unit sneaking out, blending in with the servitors of the logistical trains.
Some of the Zero Company members had also slipped into the vicinity, hiding themselves well—without auspex scans, they were impossible to detect.
As for what Hades was doing...
He was desperately shouting down to Mortarion and Garro about the tasks he had left for them. Although everything had already been set down in paper guides, Hades thought it necessary to emphasize them verbally once more.
While he was still pressed against the porthole, yelling to Bast to learn a bit of administration, Malcador suddenly appeared behind him with a calm face—
Hades spun around in shock, refusing to be jump-scared; the last one to pull that stunt had been Guilliman.
"I'm glad to see you and Mortarion have built the Death Guard into such a thriving force," the old man said calmly, but Hades felt that Malcador's eyes burned with the fury of endless overtime.
"You need not worry too much. True warriors naturally understand the direction of loyalty."
Below the viewport, Mortarion, catching sight of the edge of Malcador's hood, seemed to raise his scythe while roaring curses, the Death Lord's profanities faithfully leaking into Hades' vox channel.
Hades could feel Malcador's calm façade masking an anger burning hotter than ever. Clearly, the Regent had been thoroughly exasperated by the troublesome trio of Horus, Mortarion, and Konrad Curze.
The old man let out a sinister chuckle, muttered "pardon me" to Hades, and then flicked his staff—instantly, the voices in Hades' helmet became loud and clear.
[Malcador! Even your dispatches are marked as "urgent orders"! Is the Imperial Legiones Astartes now your personal toy?! You shuffle them around as you please?!]
Normally, such orders required at least a standard Terran week. Malcador's administrative speed could only be described as frighteningly fast.
Malcador answered slowly, his voice now flowing into the channel as well:
"Lord of Death… Mortarion, I expect you to show the Imperium—and me—the necessary respect."
[Despicable psyker! A petty manipulator of governance! Even if it is true you have contributed to the Imperium, that fact does not change what you are—immoral! A puppeteer of men's hearts! A psyker! ]
Malcador chuckled darkly. He stepped forward a few paces, now standing by the viewport as well, and placed his hand on Hades' pauldron.
"Mortarion," the old man lowered his gaze toward the figure on the deck below,
"if you wish your friend to remain…"
[…]
Mortarion's angry tirade suddenly cut off.
[What I said just now was merely my personal view of you, Malcador the Sigillite.]
His voice now sounded calm, as though nothing had happened at all.
[I wish you a smooth voyage. And I expect to receive letters from the Death Guard's commander on Terra…]
Mortarion's voice dropped low, clenched with suppressed fury.
Malcador gave him a politician's smile.
"We can still respect each other, Mortarion. Rest assured, the Imperium values the Death Guard greatly."
Hades looked calmly at Malcador beside him.
"…A true master of manipulation… Regent Malcador, I suppose today I've finally seen your…"
He forcibly swallowed the final words—shameless bastard.
Malcador gave him a sidelong glance.
"Thank you for the compliment. The feeling is mutual."
The plasma drives slowly ignited, trailing violet-blue exhaust flames. Standing together by the viewport, Hades waved his hand once more, answered by the roaring sea of voices rising from the decks of the Endurance.
Hades fixed his gaze on Mortarion.
"Lord Malcador, I never really told Mortarion much about the Heresy. Will that—"
"No need," the old man said evenly.
"The future has changed. The one you know is no longer the true future, and the Emperor's plans have shifted accordingly."
"You've left them with a spark of hope and loyalty—that is enough. Mortarion and the Death Guard's endurance will carry them through the storms to come."
The old man leaned slightly against the tall viewport, watching the crowds shrink smaller and smaller.
"Aside from Primarch Mortarion's stubborn prejudice against psykers, I am glad to see such a vigorous Legion. I had thought the Death Guard would be as dull as Mortarion himself."
Hades clicked his tongue.
"His dry humor is astonishing, really—it's just that few people have refined enough taste to understand and appreciate it."
Once they had pulled far enough away from the Endurance, the Imperial vessel began to accelerate.
Hades kept staring at her, trying to imprint her image in memory.
She was still new—the hull clean, the prow inscribed in High Gothic and Barbarus runes with the Death Guard's battle honors thus far.
He wondered how many more lines would be carved there the next time he saw her.
Hades scratched his head.
"Alright, so… what now? I feel like I can't enter the Warp anymore."
Malcador answered in his usual calm.
"A simple vacation for you. First we return to Terra for another round of surgery on your body. Then you may visit Mars—your disciple Jin has already secured a foothold there."
Hades turned in shock. Wait—did Malcador just say disciple?
But Malcador ignored his surprise and went on:
"After that, you will return to your duties. I can only bind your Black Domain for a short time. For a true solution, you'll have to seek him out."
Hades paused.
"The Emperor…? Where am I supposed to find him? He should still be on the Great Crusade, shouldn't he?"
"Khur."
Malcador said, golden starlight glinting in his eyes.
Hades froze.
"Perhaps you know it better by another name."
Malcador's voice was faint.
"It is what the Word Bearers call the Perfect City—"
"Wait!"
Hades turned sharply to Malcador.
"Isn't it too early for that?!"
The old man closed his weary eyes, as though resting.
"Time is already scarce. Warp travel will drain much of what remains, and the tides grow ever more turbulent—especially for you."
"And besides… the future has already changed. The Master of Mankind must make the necessary sacrifices and adjustments."
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Note:
Khur: Khur was a Civilised World brought into Imperial Compliance during the Great Crusade in 903.M30 by the Word Bearers Space Marine Legion, approximately a Terran century before the events of the Isstvan III Atrocity at the outset of the Horus Heresy.
The beautiful planetary capital city of Khur, known as Monarchia, also called the "Perfect City" by the Word Bearers, was built by the people of Khur at the direction and exhortation of the XVIIth Legion to demonstrate their faith and devotion to the God-Emperor of Mankind, whose faith was brought to them by the Word Bearers' Primarch Lorgar.
https://warhammer40k.fandom.com/wiki/Khur
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