Eidolon and Tarvitz led an elite guard of Emperor's Children officers aboard an assault craft, leaving their magnificent capital ship behind. They passed through scattered drifting wreckage and the cold void, finally approaching the immense vessel suspended silently in orbit.
It was the flagship of the Blood Angels' 140th Expeditionary Fleet, the Mercy's Journey.
The entire ship was terrifyingly silent, like the carcass of a great beast abandoned among the stars. Only its emergency beacon still flashed an ominous red at faint, regular intervals, like the last heartbeat of a dying man.
Docking went unusually smoothly—or rather, unsettlingly smoothly.
The airlock opened without resistance. Most of the interior lighting had failed, leaving only emergency lights to cast wavering shadows through corridors filled with thin smoke and the smell of burning.
The air still carried the Ozone stink of overloaded energy weapons and the acrid fumes of molten metal.
When they finally found the Supreme Commander present, Fleet Commander Augustus, on the bridge, the pale, hollow-eyed officer could barely remain standing before the flawless yet coldly oppressive purple-and-gold armor of the Emperor's Children.
Eidolon wasted no time on pointless pleasantries.
At that moment, he offered only cold scrutiny and barely contained fury.
After listening to Augustus's stammering, confused preliminary briefing, Eidolon learned something that sent the anger in his chest surging.
After the mysterious destruction of the Mercy's Journey and the bulk of its fleet, with communications almost completely severed, Augustus, who had remained behind, had chosen neither to hold position and await reinforcements nor to conduct adequate reconnaissance.
Driven by a mixture of duty, panic, and perhaps a trace of wishful thinking, he had made a series of disastrous decisions in response to intermittent, indecipherable messages that seemed to contain pleas for survival.
Over a relatively short period, in order