Real men piloted Zaku. Hogg quite liked these incredibly cool humanoid mechs, but they were too fragile—nowhere near as tough and durable as Knight Scions of the same size.
But not having a Zaku didn't mean Hogg wasn't a real man. Right now, he was about to make an unaided drop from high orbit—and bring along his good buddy who'd dared kick his couch.
"Second Brother, are you ready?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"Nope. Either you jump, or I fire you out of a macro-cannon."
Hogg had strapped himself to the ram of the Blacklight. Roland looked at him, then down at the verdant planet below, where crimson lightning flickered now and then. He had a thousand curses he wanted to let fly, but in the end, he could only clutch Hogg's tail for dear life.
"You're sure we won't die?"
"Absolutely! Just focus on controlling Guilliman. Horus and I used to go orbital bungee jumping without parachutes every day while we were searching for Lorgar. Those were such wonderful memories."
Wonderful, my ass. Horus probably wanted to kill you. But Roland didn't dare say that aloud, since his life was in Hogg's hands. He wasn't Vulkan, who was constantly used as a meat shield, or Hogg, who could take a Lance head-on. He'd die if he jumped!
"Then you'd better protect me."
After delivering these last words, Roland fell silent and devoted himself entirely to controlling Guilliman. The tears streaming from the corners of his eyes were the only sign of his eager anticipation.
Of course, that was just how Hogg saw it. In reality, Roland was scared out of his mind. He was not only socially anxious but afraid of heights, and he was bawling like a Gretchin with its toes stepped on.
The Primarchs hadn't originally