Imperial representatives boarded golden Aquila Landers, departing from the ships in Squat orbit.
One hundred and thirty aircraft formed an Aquila pattern in the void.
Subsequently, the formation flew in orderly fashion to hover above the starport.
They halted simultaneously, their engine plumes blossoming over the starport.
The Aquila Landers descended in neat rows, settling in the landing zones.
Officials in Imperial Administration clothing, accompanied by entourages, stepped off the decks.
Malcador's representative smiled, saying to his attendant beside him:
"Only such craft are fitting for us, representatives of the Imperium, those trusted by the Sigillite, to travel in."
"This is not vanity, but a necessity in service to the Emperor."
The attendant beamed, agreeing. "Lord Andreya is wise. Indeed so."
"Now, let us meet the Primarchs."
A short while later, Andreya met the three Pimarchs in the palace. He crossed his arms over his chest in the Aquila salute.
"Lord Nareth, Lord Magnus, Lord Perturabo."
"Andreya of the Imperial Administration, paying homage to the Primarchs."
Perturabo's eyes seemed unfocused. In his mind, the wings of the Aquila Lander were isolated, rotating, and disassembling into individual components.
Nareth decided to spend the following time in the Fane aboard the Forge-Hammer, communicating with the Votann to acquire as much technology as possible.
"I have already spoken with the Grimnyr Lord of the Squat League. The subsequent negotiations will be conducted by you, representing the Imperium, with them. I trust you will reach a suitable agreement."
"I am quite interested in Squat culture," said Magnus, "I will participate in your negotiations."
Although he had obtained information about the Squats from Nareth, and Hathor had his unique findings, Magnus was curious about this resilient race, whose history was veiled in mist yet whose technology seemed intricately linked to the Imperium.
He wished to understand them personally.
Nareth and the silent Perturabo then departed. Magnus patiently sat with Andreya and the hastily arrived Mechanicum emissary Magos to understand the demands of various Imperial factions.
Time flowed. After the effects of the third privately tailored stimulant Andreya injected to maintain alertness wore off, he proposed a temporary recess.
Magnus, accompanied by Amon, Hathor, and others, left the hall and returned to his flagship.
He then announced the convening of the First Fellowship Council.
Members of the First Fellowship Council were personally selected by Magnus, a senior body within the Thousand Sons Legion responsible for discussing all current Legion affairs.
Its membership was fluid. Whether a Thousand Son could join depended on many factors, a crucial one being his prestige within the Legion.
The five Cults competed for dominance, coveting the valuable positions near the Primarch.
Everyone knew that basking in Magnus's radiance granted precious knowledge and great power.
Even Magnus's former mentor did not hold a secure seat on the First Council.
Lacertian of the Raptora Cult fought hard to secure his seat but perished in the recent war in the D-1519 system.
Hathor replaced Hastar of the Pavoni Cult. Imhoden barely maintained his position within the Cult and the First Council, relegated to the margins.
Over twenty members followed Magnus to the red giant's residence.
Within the palace, there were none of the esoteric symbols, bizarre instruments, or mysterious ritual implements many might imagine.
The walls were of bright, transparent crystal. The floor was not adamantium from a voidship, but pure white marble quarried from Prospero's deep mountains.
Black tiles inlaid with golden threads were meticulously laid into a repeating geometric spiral expanding from the center.
Over twenty individuals stood upon the spiral pattern. Parts of the spiral were unoccupied, their former members sent by Magnus to other Legions.
Their distance from the center served as a symbolic measure of status, also indicating their standing within the First Council to some degree.
Ahzek Ahriman walked silently along the black spiral, passing one Thousand Son after another, reaching his position.
His position was near the front, but one person, perhaps two, stood closer to the center than he.
The definite one was Hathor. The uncertain other was Amon, Captain of the Ninth Fellowship.
Amon was responsible for training the Legion's Hidden Ones, the Thousand Sons' recon units.
Ahriman neither saw nor sensed Amon's presence. Few could discern this individual's whereabouts. Among those present, only Magnus knew his location.
Ahriman felt no discontent. Since the Primarch's return, he had decreed that Captains must complete secondments for learning, and this was part of the evaluation criteria.
Amon did not stand beside Magnus as usual. In the First Council, he participated as a Fellowship Captain, not as an Attendant.
He stood slightly ahead and to the side of Ahriman, looking at Hathor opposite him.
Within the Pavoni Cult, Hathor stood several meters ahead of Imhoden, the Cult's leader.
Both he and Hastar had been overtaken by Hathor, as had Amon himself.
In the First Council, rank was expressed not only by distance from the spiral center but also by many subtle factors: who stood beside whom, who blocked whose sightline, who remained visible, and the curvature of the line connecting each person to the solar disc.
All of it was a contest for core influence. The subtle interplay between each member's footing wove a web of power only Magnus could read.
Ahriman stood slightly behind and to the side of Amon, while Hastar stood farther from Hathor. This clearly indicated his status: surpassed by Hathor. At least for now, Hathor was at the apex of the First Council.
Above the center of the spiral, directly beneath the crystal spire, was a glorious golden disc in the shape of a sun, positioned at the convergence of the white marble and black spiral tiles, precisely at the palace's geometric center.
Amon saw the crimson Magnus step onto the golden sun, nodding to the assembly.
"The Chamber yet requires the Sothmes Sigil," Amon announced. His crimson armor blended with the shadows cast from the dome. Others in the First Council heard his voice but saw no one.
Magnus nodded. From his waist, he took a golden sickle-like blade. With a thumb's flick, the hilt smoothly extended, transforming with a low hum into a long-hafted weapon.
He tapped the solar disc with the sickle, tracing an intricate, convoluted pattern on the floor.
Hathor felt the world around him grow dim in an instant. The entire palace was now shielded from external scrutiny.
At this moment, no one could perceive events within the palace through any technological means or psychic method.
He frowned slightly. The sudden severance from the Warp was disconcerting. But he was still an "Empath," able to peer into others' thoughts like Phanek.
Hathor looked towards the center. During today's council, Magnus's pupil had shifted to a violet hue. He wore a scholar's smile, his gaze fixed upon Hathor.
Hathor knew that as the leading member of the First Council, second only to the Primarch, it fell to him to formally open.
Only on Prospero did the First Council communicate via the aether. Here, the Thousand Sons were forced to use crude language for discourse.
"I am Hathor Maat of the Pavoni Cult. Who has come to this First Council?"
"Corvidae Cult, Ahzek Ahriman."
…
Over twenty individuals announced their names in turn. Hathor finally reported to Magnus.
"Phosis accompanies Lord Perturabo. Khalophis is seconded to the 'Emperor's Children.'"
"Aside from them, we are gathered here."
"None other are present," Amon confirmed.
Before Magnus spoke, his eyes swept over the assembled faces.
.....
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