In the private observation chamber atop the Blade Storm's command tower, Jaghatai Khan gazed into the void.
Since uncovering the truth on Prospero, he had dispersed the White Scars as he had during the Great Crusade, sending each Brotherhood out to hunt on its own.
This time, however, the legion's mission was neither to chart the frontier nor to strike down aliens. Their targets were traitors.
His sons had slowed the Warmaster's advance, but they had paid a terrible price.
With the legion's champion, Qin Xia, slain by the traitor Eidolon, their strategy had to change. The White Scars had to regroup before they were destroyed.
Jaghatai watched the fleet emerge from the turbulent Empyrean and gather at the rendezvous point.
He watched a black Thunderhawk fly out of the Qingzha. Since returning to the legion from Nimrod's side, Hasik had made the shuttle Nimrod had given him his personal transport.
He brushed the blade at his waist. Nimrod... would he approve of my decision?
Jaghatai did not know that the Ruinstorm had torn the galaxy in two, trapping Nimrod and Guilliman's armies in its eastern reaches.
The Colonid Sector, too, had been cut off by Warp Storms and could not launch an attack after repelling the combined forces of Horus and Fulgrim.
That Colonid had withstood two legions' armies meant Nimrod had not been unprepared.
After taking losses, Horus will be even less willing to waste troops attacking Vostonia and the Carium Gate. This is my only chance.
Jaghatai slowly released his blade and strode to the bridge.
On either side of The Throne burned candles scented with different fragrances from Chogoris. One was Peace; its balm was commonly applied to the foreheads of the dead.
The other was Ilyar; its balm was applied to those about to go