Imagine Moiran's surprise when he returned to his ship. Weakened and exhausted, the Primarch nearly collapsed when Shai and his Space Wolves met him. The Space Marines themselves were no less surprised.
Moiran was whiter than chalk, black veins stood out on his face, and the agility and strength that all Primarchs had lost from their movements. No one understood the cause of the Primarch's illness, for his armour was intact, but the Librarians of the Fatebringers immediately understood what was happening. Moiran had spent an incredible amount of strength to tear the entire fleet from the grip of the Dark Prince. At the same time, he became a beacon and a shield for the navigators of all ships, so as to prevent the greatest tragedy. Such was the true strength of Moiran, but it was rarely taken into account, for far more majestic were the formidable swordsmen and smiths of the Primarchs, masters of sieges and speed.
However, Moiran never proved anything to anyone, quietly doing his job and rarely having problems with warp transitions. With the exception of recent events that almost became an irreparable catastrophe. And of course, Leman Russ was not going to praise Moiran for such a feat, just as the Wolf King was unlikely to worry about his brother's health.
Without even looking at Shai, Moiran silently followed the Space Wolves towards a meeting with his brother. They were about to have an extremely difficult conversation, the content of which Moiran already knew everything about. It did not require a genius, just as Leman Russ himself was extremely predictable. The accusation was already sounding in Moiran's mind, his gait was becoming heavier and heavier, and suddenly he even began to feel out of breath. As if invisible shackles were pulling him to the ground, horrifying everyone who was unfortunate enough to see the primarch in such a broken state.
Already before entering the captain's bridge, officers came out to greet the primarch, greeting their primarch with a gesture. Leman Russ ordered everyone to leave the bridge to speak alone with his brother, even his most loyal sons at some point simply stopped accompanying Moiran. No one could overhear this dialogue, except for those who had already settled in the weakened souls.
- Hello, Moiran. Frankly, I did not think that our meeting would take place in such an oppressive atmosphere - many considered Russ not only straightforward, but also rather... frankly stupid and callous, but behind the mask of a barbarian hid both a great strategist and a very enlightened mind, albeit incapable of competing with other primarchs and still eclipsing most mere mortals.
"Spare me this small talk and state directly the true purpose of your arrival," Moiran said wearily, throwing his mighty sword off his shoulder and leaning on it with both hands.
Russ did not answer immediately, but glanced at his brother's weapon. This gigantic sword had been forged by the Great Iron Father himself, the cruel and fearsome Gorgon, the Primarch of the Iron Hands Ferrus Manus. The sword was called Wyrd, which alluded to the mythology of the ancient peoples of Terra. And it so happened that in High Gothic there was no exact word for translation, and the closest word in meaning was destiny, the highest purpose in life, predetermined for each from the moment of his birth.
And the sword was magnificent, not as graceful as many other creations, but in its strength and sharpness it surpassed many other blades of the Primarchs. In the hands of Moiran, Wyrd became a truly deadly weapon, capable of cutting enemies to pieces along with their armour. And if the armour somehow withstood the onslaught of the Primarch, then the transmitted impulse almost certainly broke bones and left terrible dents in the armour.
As you might guess, Ferrus Manus did not forge this sword out of boredom. Unlike many of Moiran's other brothers, Ferrus never had any prejudice against him or his Legion. Ferrus generally considered everyone to be equal, albeit with their own peculiarities. Be you a furious Angron or a pedantic Zhiliman, you are first and foremost a tool of the Emperor, one of many in a vast arsenal.
However, not everyone could boast of a weapon forged by Ferrus, since such a thing spoke more of personal relationships. And Ferrus was very much won over by Moiran's modesty, who was devoid of the prideful arrogance of most other Primarchs. Moiran did what he had to do and, unlike some of his other brothers, did not try to pose as a martyr who was not respected enough. As in Moiran's character, Ferrus was able to discern incredible strength, which the Great Smith sometimes even envied.
And looking at this sword, Leman Russ suddenly remembered that most of his knowledge about Moirana was rumor, which appeared out of nowhere and spread like a plague. Was it done intentionally? No, at that moment Leman Russ blamed everything on chance, because he could not imagine that someone would dare to deliberately defile the reputation of one of the legions of the Emperor himself.
"We intercepted a request for assistance on the vox and rushed over," Leman Russ said, studying Moiran's face expectantly, trying to read every emotion. "Besides, I only came personally because the source was your flagship."
"We would have managed on our own," Moiran grimaced, either from pain or from his unwillingness to accept help and appear weak. "It's just that Shai…"
- Shai assessed the situation correctly and saw no reason to hide anything from his brothers, - Moiran was immediately interrupted, and Leman Russ's voice became cold. - I heard about the conflict between you and the Lion. Did you not destroy these swords? How did you even think of melting down such a dangerous artefact? Where did you get the knowledge and the ability, Moiran? Why did you even think that such actions were reasonable? Has the darkness of pride clouded your vision, like Magnus?
"You came here not as an assistant, but as a judge, didn't you? The Emperor sent you, didn't he?" Moiran asked bluntly, losing his patience, tired of both the accusations and everything else. "Was he afraid to come in person? That's his style."
"Control yourself, Moiran!" Russ said, his voice much louder now, and he frowned. "You have no right to speak of Him in such a tone."
"I should have added a few more unflattering epithets, but only my manners hold me back!" Moiran shouted back, his hands shaking with barely contained anger. "You know what he did!"
"Moiran…" Leman Russ said warningly, but it was too late.
- Why do you all ignore this?! Still pretending that there are nineteen of us?! Tell me, Russ, tell me why you have never once taken an interest in the affairs of the Second Legion?!
- Moiran, stop.
- Why, despite everything that has happened, are they not worthy of even a drop of your attention?! Why do you at least speak of us with contempt, but so stubbornly pretend that the second legion does not exist?!
— Moiraan!
- What did they do to deserve such treatment?! Is Malcador's nonsense really more important to you than your own blood?!
— MOIRAN!!!
— TELL ME THIS TO MY FACE, RUSS!!! SAY THAT YOU ARE JUST THE SAME HYPOCRITE AS THEY ALL!!! JUST LIKE THE ONE YOU CONSIDER THE GREATEST AND MOST WORTHY, BUT WHOSE WILL DESTROYED THE DESTINIES OF HIS OWN SONS!!! ADMIT AT LEAST TO YOURSELF AND THE NEXT TIME YOU MEETING THIS SCUM, ASK HIM WHAT HAPPENED TO ERD!!!
Moiran's eyes didn't have time to notice Russ's movements, but his combat sense forced him to use all his psychic powers. In an instant, Russ was point-blank to Moiran, looking at his brother, who was slightly shorter. And although Russ didn't have a weapon, he was ready to rip out his brother's tongue with his bare hands for such speeches. As Moiran understood, frozen in a mental attack.
And yet Russ did not strike. It was incredibly painful to hear those words, and to feel the invisible field of incredible power that stretched across the void, the epicentre of which was the single ship of the Second Legion. But Russ, though hot-tempered, treated his own blood with far more reverence than any of the other Primarchs.
He couldn't attack Moiran, who wasn't going to strike first, and he was right, which made Russ's soul howl in impotence. The Eleventh Legion was always considered some kind of strange and problematic, either they would drag xenotech onto the ship, or they would start playing with dark artefacts. The Second Legion was considered simply a mistake. A mistake and a disgrace, the existence of which the Emperor did not want to acknowledge, ignoring the problems, calls for help and even the very existence of the Second Legion.
Tragic and unjust was the fate of the second legion, guilty of the very fact of its existence.
*
"You are free," the officer said as he entered my cabin. "The Space Wolves have left the Fortuna."
"Seriously?" I was surprised, getting up from my rather luxurious bed, after all, I was a nobleman and they kept me in captivity with all the comforts, like the others, they rather put me under house arrest, throwing only the most violent ones into solitary confinement.
- Don't relax, Mister Mordred. I can assure you that Adam and Heraldry have told you a great deal that is... questionable. You will still have to answer to Primarch Moiran or his representative. However, your frankness and honesty play into your hands. You did the right thing by admitting what happened.
- What's the point of lying? It's better to die in the name of Humanity than to live for yourself.
The officer nodded, and then left my cabin. I decided to take a walk. Although my fate was still uncertain, but... apparently they didn't consider me dangerous, so I'll enjoy my imaginary freedom one last time before my execution for the massacre I committed on my bed.
True, I didn't know where to go, because the ship had become empty. Most of the lodge members were killed, I was still forbidden to visit the Knights' hangar, as well as the armory and shooting range, I decided not to go, so as not to bother the soldiers watching me. Yes, it was unpleasant to understand that those around me considered me, if not an enemy, then at least a threat or a time bomb. Rumors spread too quickly.
Moiran's reputation for allowing this to happen also suffered a significant setback. Even less approval was given to Shai's removal from command of the First Company. He had effectively betrayed Moiran by revealing all the secrets of his own legion and framing his brothers. However, many saw this as a rational act, and it was also supported by members of the Emperor's cult of divinity.
But Shai left quietly, silently, without trying to consolidate his comrades around him. It was not an easy decision for him either, and he took his father's punishment rather painfully. Yes, no one even thought about it, that the formidable and stern captain of the first company, Shai, who always strictly followed the chain of command and did not make friends, had no trophies and generally resembled more of a machine, was wounded to the depths of his soul by his father's decision. However, it was so and I understood it much better, because I already knew that these Astartes were not so ideal.
In their quest to become perfect, deprived of friends and families, they only overcompensated for all this with brotherly bonds and saw their primarchs as demigods. For most space marines, their primarch was even higher than the Emperor and more important than Humanity. As for their own brother, they were ready to sacrifice hundreds of other astartes. Although there were exceptions.
Anyway, wandering through the compartments I came to a half-ruined recreation area, where there was a stained glass window and where our official lodge meetings used to take place. There was no one here except Shai, which surprised me. Usually he never showed up here, although he was probably keeping an eye on us, since he was the first to get to us on the day of the massacre, and therefore was closer than the others.
Of course, Shai noticed me, because his senses were heightened, but he continued to silently look at the star pulsating in the darkness.
"This is an impulsive decision. Soon you will again become the captain of the first company and his right hand," I said, knowing full well what was on Shay's soul.
"I won't," Shai said after a short pause, measuredly and fatalistically.
- I think otherwise, you have served the legion faithfully for a long time. And even if we consider this act a mistake, then for that alone such a punishment...
"That's not the point," Shai shook his head. "The Emperor is already on his way. Our Legion has screwed up. We weren't the most effective to begin with, and after such losses… The Emperor values efficiency. Besides, this disgrace will put pressure on him again from Malcador."
- Malcador? Does anyone dare to put pressure on the Emperor himself?
- Malcador is one of the pillars that holds the Imperium together. Thanks to him, this clumsy machine functions. He is the Emperor's closest friend, and also our wise mentor. He is like our... uncle. True, he himself never admitted this to us, denying any affection and forcing us to reject worldly feelings and the Emperor himself. The Emperor should be the leader of Mankind, not a father. It must be hard for him, and maybe... maybe we are wrong to think that such a Great One still has any semblance of humanity.
— The Emperor does everything for the sake of Humanity, can he really be blamed for the lack of humanity?
— Tell me, Mordred, would a mother who cut her own child's throat with her own hands have humanity in your understanding? And what if she did it to save two other children? Not her own, but others'? You know nothing about humanity because you are young. Just as you simply cannot understand the Emperor or any other immortal, because you initially think within the framework of your very limited experience and imagine that with eternal life you will be able to change everything and will never fall so low that other people's lives will cease to play any role for you. Only goals and bugs called people will remain. However, this is what humanity means, to confidently draw conclusions about something that you cannot even understand due to the narrowness of your own thinking.
- And what can you say about yourself?
— That I am no better. Except that, unlike people who have lived less than a century, I can see part of the abyss that follows millennia of life. Millennia, but not tens of thousands of years, and certainly not the eternity during which this pulsating star shines in the skies of countless planets.
- So the Emperor will appear and deliver a verdict? I take it it's not a favorable one?
- Probably. This is the last drop of his patience. He is tired of the Second Legion, as are the other Primarchs. We are not making him happy either. The Word Bearers' effectiveness has dropped. The psykers are screwing up here and there, Magnus has become completely arrogant, and now we have disgraced ourselves because of dangerous knowledge... he will be forced to start doing something. Not only with us, but with the entire situation.
- So maybe he'll just talk and...
- Talk? - Shay smiled bitterly and turned around. - Of course, I don't know the Emperor and the other primarchs that well, but do you think that the same Magnus was not aware of all the dangers of his studies of the warp? Or was Moiran just playing with dark artefacts? They all knew the risks, they just thought themselves strong enough to cope with this burden. The words had already been spoken and they changed nothing. The Emperor needs to act and he will, because the fate of Humanity depends on him. And he must be strong enough to cut the throats of all his children if they begin to pose a threat. Otherwise... otherwise he risks losing everything, not only his life, but all of Humanity. Not for himself, but for the great goal, Moiran will have to be punished. And the punishment must be serious, to send a signal to others. Maybe even psykers will be banned, who knows.
- Shai, tell me about the second legion. What happened to it and why do all your brothers and father speak of it with incredible pain, while others call them a mistake? Why does Moiran leave with the chosen one on board every time they fly and return half-dead? Forgive me for asking these unpleasant questions, but... perhaps it will all end very soon, including for me. And I... I want to know the truth, if I have the right to do so.
Shai turned around and I saw that half of his face was covered in a terrible burn, turning that part of his face into a molten mess. In addition, the burn extended down his neck and judging by the too clean and new power armor... the fight was very difficult for Shai, lucky that they did not send him to the dreadnought sarcophagus.
- I will tell you, because it was precisely the fact that we did not talk about this that caused everything that happened. We should have done this earlier and forced, even by brute force, others to listen to our every word.
More chapters on my P@treon: https://patreon.com/OOOTEN