"Father, this is Rockefeller."
The background noise on the vox channel was unusual, carrying an indescribable undertone like a distant buzzing, but the connection had indeed gone through.
Chapter Master Rockefeller stood on the communications deck of his flagship, the Edict of Truth, his expression grave.
The news of Saladin's grievous injuries weighed like cold iron on the hearts of every loyal warrior. He had to report the situation to his Primarch, to Lorgar, and seek guidance.
"The Primarch of the Second Legion has been gravely wounded. The details remain unclear, and the Fleet has suspended its offensive. Do you have any instructions?"
A brief silence followed.
Only the unnatural buzzing in the background rose and fell faintly.
Then a reply came through the communicator.
It was Lorgar's voice.
Low and steady, with that familiar, reassuring authority and calm.
"Remain vigilant."
Just those two words.
Clear and concise, without further questions or additional orders, without even a word of concern for Saladin's condition.
Only an unquestionable command.
Rockefeller's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.
The reply seemed far too simple.
From what he knew of his father, the Primarch should at least have asked for more specific details or given clearer strategic instructions.
But he quickly suppressed that flicker of doubt.
This was the Primarch's voice, his Gene-Father's command.
Perhaps the connection was poor. Perhaps the Primarch was attending to more urgent matters.
"Understood, Father," he answered solemnly, placing his right hand over his chest even though his father could not see him.
"The Word Bearers will continue coordinating with the Sons of the Yellow Sands, closely monitor the war zone, and await further orders."
The connection ended.
Rockefeller stood before the communications station in silence for several seconds. He could not shake the feeling that something was wrong. The calm in