"What did you say?" Alkhan turned, his hawklike eyes fixed on Calgar. "You want us to protect that murderer?"
"He's an Inquisitor! A representative of the High Lords of Terra!" Calgar roared in anguish, his clenched fists creaking. "If he's to stand trial, Primarch Guilliman must judge him himself! We cannot let these Chaos traitors tear him apart! If we do, the Imperium loses all legal legitimacy!"
"Legal legitimacy?" Alcato sneered, lifting his Storm Shield. "Fuck legal legitimacy."
"All Imperial Fists, heed my order."
"We're withdrawing."
"What?!" Calgar froze.
"I said we're withdrawing." Alcato turned his back on Calgar, and on the Inquisitor who might soon come under attack. "The Warmaster's final order was for us to return to Zelanis. We obey only the Warmaster."
"As for that Inquisitor..." Alcato glanced back, his eyes cold. "My hearing seems to be damaged. I didn't hear any orders to protect him."
Alcato was not alone in this.
As the Black Legion's landing craft surged toward the Inquisition stronghold on the planet like a black tide, a scene unfolded that Calgar would never forget.
The Imperial Army forces that should have been forming defensive lines-the Astra Militarum regiments from countless worlds, the Imperialis Militia that Horus had just rescued from despair, and even most of the ordinary Space Marine Chapters.
They did not open fire.
When the Black Legion's Berserkers charged toward them, a Catachan colonel guarding the passage silently took a drag on his cigar, then kicked the barricade aside.
"The ground's a little slippery. I knocked the gate open by accident," he told the Commissar beside him.
The Commissar did not even look up. He merely wrote in his notebook, "Record: defensive line collapsed due to circumstances beyond our control."
A Black Legion Terminator charged up to the mortals. He raised