"Let me teach you how to speak politely!" Perturabo swung his iron hand at the Khan, the miniature melta cannon in his palm primed and ready. Amid the ringing in his ears, the Khan heard the melta cannon powering up.
Judging its position by sound, the Khan struck in a flash, driving his blade directly into Perturabo's palm and disabling the melta cannon before it could fire.
Perturabo recoiled in pain, then kicked the Khan squarely in the chest, sending his brother flying hundreds of meters away.
Both sides had suffered in their first exchange. Jaghatai studied Perturabo's armor, analyzing the structure of his power armor for any other concealed weapons.
Perturabo flexed his hand. His melta cannon was finished; using it again would only blow apart the armor on his arm. Perhaps he should give up fighting with his hands altogether. Perturabo figured his kicks were much faster than his punches anyway.
Both men were learning from the battle, making sure they would not repeat the same mistakes next time.
"Hey! Sanguinius's child! Get away from that traitor!" Jaghatai pointed his blade at Perturabo, warning Celes not to stand in the middle of the battlefield.
"Traitor?" Perturabo laughed angrily. "You mean your leisure time during the Crusade? As far as I know, your contributions to the Great Crusade did not amount to even a fraction of mine!"
Jaghatai found that amusing too. The White Scars had indeed not been a main force during the Great Crusade, but the Khan had no intention of explaining that to a lunatic whose brain had been sealed in concrete. He decided to say something that would better aggravate Perturabo's fragile nerves.
"True enough. If we are talking about leaving behind a trail of ruins that need rebuilding along the path of the Great