It started with a dream.

The tendrils drew closer and reached for him, hungry and unstoppable, wrapping around him and holding him fast. Try as he might, there was no escape. The shadow grew and grew and consumed everything, and he was lost to the darkness--

Akil Amari awoke with a gasp, sitting bolt upright on his cot with a thin sheen of sweat covering his skin, his hearts thundering in his chest. It took him a moment to realize that he was back in his physical body, in his own quarters, and not trapped in a horrible dream of all-consuming darkness. Or, more accurately, a vision - a vision of the future, though one shrouded in allegory and symbolism.

He took a deep breath at let it out slowly, calming himself with a mental recitation of the Enumerations. It was not for nothing that the Thousand Sons had received the best mental training of all the Legions, and even now, Akil’s mental discipline had not waned in the slightest. Emotions once again under control, he clinically analysed the images from the vision, trying to find some clue as to its true meaning.

Even as he thought, he rose from his cot and began donning his armour with the ease of long practice. It was still an hour or two until the next shift, but Akil knew he wouldn’t be getting any more sleep now. As an experienced member of the Corvidae cult, he’d learned to trust his instincts, and right now they were telling him that this vision wasn’t to be ignored. Whatever the beacon represented, it was vitally important and had to be protected from the encroaching threat.

The trick now would be to decipher the vision and figure out what it was, and where it was, before it was too late.

Once Akil was fully armoured save for his helmet, which he hung off his belt, he left his rather spartan quarters and strode through the quiet corridors of the ship. As one of the commanding officers on the vanguard cruiser Aten, his quarters weren’t far from the bridge, and it didn’t take him long to reach it.

The bridge was dim and quiet, as the ship was currently cruising through an area of unoccupied space, changing heading before the next warp jump and making sure nothing was tailing them. There was only a skeleton crew manning the bridge; the rest were off-duty, recovering from a recent hurried extraction, an extended period of combat readiness and a long stint of evasive manoeuvres and warp jumps.

While investigating a sector after an earlier encounter with Necrons, the Sons had been ambushed by a group of Space Wolves. Though the Sons had won that little skirmish, it had been decided that the Aten’s best course of action was to vacate the area immediately, before the Wolves could regroup enough to pursue. Since then, the Aten had made several jumps through the warp, changing direction each time it emerged so as to better confuse its trail.

Lending to the ship’s current feeling of quiet was the fact that it was also lacking over half its usual complement of Thousand Sons. Sefu, one of the other commanding officers aboard the Aten, had taken half the squads and most of the other Sons with Terminator honours in one of the cruiser’s Stormbirds. The reason behind their departure was twofold. One, as an extra precaution against the Aten being followed; and two, to acquire more supplies and resources if the opportunity arose. Though the Aten was currently well-stocked, it wasn’t easy keeping it that way.

As Akil entered the bridge, the helmsmistress currently on duty turned to face him, giving a salute. “Captain.”

Akil halted on the viewing platform that overlooked the rest of the bridge and nodded in acknowledgement. “Status?”

“No signs of pursuit so far,” the helmsmistress replied crisply. “All ship systems are functioning at acceptable levels. We’ll reach the next launch point within the hour.”

“Very well,” Akil replied absently, most of his attention still focused on unraveling his vision. “Carry on.” If the helmsmistress noticed his distraction, she gave no sign and merely saluted again before turning back to her console.

Time passed slowly as the Aten glided through space, guided by its Navigator towards a point where it could more easily enter one of the myriad currents through the warp. Akil let his mind drift, musing over his vision and possible interpretations of it. If he’d been any other Corvidae, he would have dropped into meditation and attempted to better divine the future, but his particular talents in that area had never responded well to such forcing. His foresight came when it willed, and not before.

He ignored the bridge crew as they murmured amongst each other while they worked, at least until the helmsmistress addressed him directly. “Captain? We’ve reached the launch point, but the Navigator has detected an anomaly in the warp.”

That got Akil’s attention, and he blinked and looked down at the helmsmistress. “What sort of anomaly?”

“The Navigator describes it as a shadow in the warp, which seems to have its origins within the Qantm sector, Apollo system.”

Akil was immediately alert. “What data do we have on that system?”

The helmsmistress consulted her console briefly before replying. “Imperial held, four inhabited worlds. They’re of little note except for a forgeworld and a moon around the system’s agri-world, which houses a significant Librarium.”

A Librarium. A vast repository of knowledge... Akil didn’t even have to stop and think about it. “Set a course through the warp to the Apollo system,” he ordered. “Inform me immediately if the Navigator detects anything else.”

The helmsmistress saluted sharply. “Right away, Captain. Engaging Geller Field.”

As the Aten slipped into the warp and began its journey, Akil remained on the bridge, silently wondering what awaited in the Apollo system and hoping his foresight would give him more clues to the future.

“Brother-Captain, an unidentified ship has just emerged from the Warp at the outer edges of this system.”

Brother-Captain Stern stood aboard the bridge of the strike cruiser Retributio Titanica, clad in the steel grey armour of the Grey Knights. He leaned forward and rested his hands on the rail separating the viewing platform from the rest of the bridge, his attention momentarily distracted from concerns about the reports of the xenos invasion of this sector. “Bring it up on screen, and tell me anything you can find out about it.”

A moment later the vis-display flickered to life, showing a once-sleek but now rugged and battered-looking cruiser of a design he wasn’t familiar with. Its metal hide was coloured a dark, mottled grey that made it almost disappear against the backdrop of space, save for the glow of its engines. Closer inspection revealed that the mottling seemed to be a mix of old battle damage, repairs, scorch marks, aged metal, and scraps of dull, tarnished red and gold.

Stern eyed the vessel’s image warily, trying to find some clue as to its origin or purpose. His examination of it was interrupted however by one of the bridge crew speaking up again. “It doesn’t match the signature or description of any vessels currently in Imperial service. It does, however, seem to match the specifications of an older design of Imperial cruiser.”

“How much older?” Stern asked, his eyes never leaving the vis-display.

“Pre-Heresy old.”

Stern’s breath caught in his throat for a moment, but before he could say anything footsteps beside him announced the arrival of another Grey Knight. “It certainly looks its age,” Justicar Alaric commented dryly, coming to a halt beside the Brother-Captain and eyeing the vis-display closely.

“Hm.” Stern glanced down at the bridge crew. “Any records on which Legion preferred this design of cruiser?”

There was a brief pause before he got his reply. “Records suggest that this particular pattern was favoured by the fleets of Prospero.”

Alaric hissed a breath through his teeth. “The Thousand Sons Traitor Legion.” He frowned thoughtfully, once again examining the vis-display. “It doesn’t bear the usual trophies or iconography of the Traitor Legions, though...”

Stern remained silent as his mind worked rapidly, but then the vis-display showed the cruiser’s engines flaring, and one of the bridge crew spoke up again. “Sirs, the cruiser has started moving deeper into the system.”

“Are they on a battle heading?” Alaric asked, allowing Stern to continue his thoughts without interruption.

“No sir, they seem to be investigating.”

“Investigating what though?” Stern muttered. “The chance to raid the Librarium while we are busy with the xenos invasion? We cannot afford to have our attention divided...”

“But we also lack the forces to stem the xenos tide alone,” Alaric commented quietly, then nodded towards the vis-display. “Perhaps we can turn this to our advantage.”

Stern gave Alaric a hard look. “What exactly are you suggesting?”

Alaric shrugged. “Only that they may not necessarily be an immediate threat. And if they’re not, then perhaps we can use them as temporary allies.”

Stern eyed Alaric as if the Justicar had gone mad, then shook his head slightly. “I shouldn’t be surprised at such a suggestion from you,” he grumbled. “What makes you think they’d even want to risk themselves?”

“Like I mentioned before, they do not have the look of the Traitor Legions about them. And something has obviously drawn them to this system,” Alaric pointed out. “I find it hard to believe they’ve turned up here and now through sheer coincidence.” He paused, then added, “Besides, what have we got to lose? If they don’t cooperate, well. We have dealt with Traitor Legion warbands before.”

Stern scowled and thought for a long moment, then looked back down at the bridge crew. “Any word from the Imperial forces on the ground?”

“They’ve just fought off another wave, and the xenos have fallen back for now. But the Imperial forces have taken heavy losses. Their need for reinforcements becomes more dire by the hour.”

“Damn it,” Stern muttered, the news of the Imperial forces’ plight cementing his decision. He sighed and rubbed his face with one hand, then glared at Alaric. “Fine. We’ll try it your way, but if I see or hear anything that I consider a threat to Imperial forces in this sector, we’re not risking it.” Alaric just nodded, and Stern raised his voice so the bridge crew could hear him again. “Comms, hail that cruiser. Vis and vox.”

“Aye, sir.” The comms officer worked at his console for several moments, then glanced back up at the Brother-Captain and Justicar. “They’re responding. Establishing connection.”

Alaric moved off to the side, and Stern straightened, folding his arms across his chest. “Bring it up.”

The vox crackled for a moment with static, and the main vis-display flickered away from the view of the cruiser to instead show a Space Marine in deep blue, gold-trimmed Terminator armour of a much older mark, bearing the trappings of a company Captain. His hands were folded behind his back and his helmet was hung on his belt, showing a calm, ageless face with dark, unreadable eyes. Most interesting however was the symbol on the left pauldron - instead of being the jagged golden circle of a snake eating its own tail, it was the stylised form of an eclipsed sun, gleaming white. It looked out of place against the blue armour, but nevertheless gave Stern a brief flicker of hope.

“This might actually work,” Alaric muttered off to the side, his eyes narrowed as he took in the vis-display. As Stern took a breath to address the cruiser’s captain, he found himself mentally agreeing despite his doubts. Perhaps it would.

“We’ve reached the Apollo system and are nearing the edges of the warp shadow, Captain.” The helmsmistress of the vanguard cruiser Aten glanced back at Captain Akil, who was once again standing on the viewing platform with his hands behind his back, his blue and gold armour gleaming dully in the dim bridge light.

Akil nodded in reply, though he didn’t look at the helmsmistress, his attention focused somewhere not in the material plane. His vision - he was not going to call it a mere dream - had drawn him here, and he was determined to investigate. “Drop us out of the Warp.”

“Reverting to realspace.” The helmsmistress turned back to her console, and a few moments later the Aten slid out of the warp and back into the material plane with barely a ripple. “Disengaging Geller Field and scanning for local broadcasts.”

Akil blinked and shook his head slightly, returning his attention to the here and now. The bridge was silent for several minutes, then the comms officer spoke up. “We’re picking up several distress calls, though they’re at least a week old and pretty broken up. Something about this sector’s Librarium being under attack, and them requesting aid from any free fleets.”

Akil frowned slightly, a vague sense of foreboding washing over him. “Any mention of what they’re being attacked by?”

“Give me a moment...” The comms officer worked at his console, then suddenly paled and leaned back in his seat. “Hive Fleet... they mentioned a Hive Fleet.”

“Tyranids.” Akil growled the word. “That explains the warp shadow.” A shadow that radiated hunger and destruction... He shook his head, then looked back at the bridge crew. “Are there any other fleets in the sector?”

“None that we’ve picked up on yet, though we’re too far out to tell for sure. There’s a lot of interference.”

“Move us in closer, but keep our exit route clear.” Akil didn’t bother waiting for the helmsmistress’ affirmative and activated his vox, embedded in the collar of his armour. “Zuberi, I need you up here.”

A few minutes later another terminator-armoured Space Marine entered the bridge, taller and broader than Akil, but without the symbols of rank. “Captain. News?”

Akil turned to face Zuberi, his expression grim. “Nothing pleasant. We’ve got Tyranids. Can you estimate the size of their force or pick up anything else?”

Zuberi’s face went blank as he sent his mind out, probing for information. A few moments later he winced and took a step back, then shook his head. “I can’t get through. Judging by the size and strength of the shadow though, there’s significantly more than we can manage with the forces we have at the moment. Even if we had everyone here, we’d most likely still be well out of our depth.”

“Damn. This sector’s Librarium is far too valuable to lose to the Tyranids, but we can’t afford the time it would take to get reinforcements...”

Zuberi gave his captain a questioning look. “What do we care about an Imperial Librarium?”

Akil tapped the side of his head with one armoured finger. “I believe there’s something incredibly important in that Librarium, and we need to protect it.”

Zuberi frowned but nodded in understanding, familiar with Akil’s little quirks of foresight. Before he could say anything else though, their quiet conversation was interrupted by a chirp from the cruiser’s vox, and a moment later the comms officer looked up at the two Space Marines. “Captain, we’re being hailed.”

Akil immediately straightened. “Bring it up.” Zuberi moved off to one side as the comms officer pressed a button, and a moment later there was a crackle of static as the connection was established. The main vis-display flickered on, showing the stern countenance of a Space Marine in steel-grey armour, his arms folded across his chest. The Marine eyed Akil briefly before speaking up.

“Unidentified cruiser, you are in Imperial space. This is Brother-Captain Stern. Identify yourselves immediately.”

“Brother-Captain Stern, this is Captain Akil Amari of the vanguard cruiser Aten,” Akil replied calmly, keeping his expression neutral even as Zuberi’s voice whispered in his mind, “Grey Knights”.

On-screen, Stern’s eyes narrowed slightly as he took in the distinctive colours and markings of Akil’s armour. “I notice you didn’t mention your Chapter.”

“Neither did you,” Akil pointed out, carefully keeping his voice level. “However, I’m sure we both recognise the other. Right now though, I believe we have more pressing concerns. You seem to have a Hive Fleet invasion on your hands.”

Stern couldn’t quite suppress a grimace, and gave a curt nod. “You are correct. The Tyranid forces have grown exponentially in the time it has taken us to respond to the distress call.”

“The Tyranids are a threat to all.” Akil raised an eyebrow. “I take it you also lack the numbers to meet them head-on.”

“You’d be correct again.” Stern hadn’t failed to notice the ‘also’ in Akil’s sentence, and he eyed the Captain through the vis-display with suspicion. “What interests do you have here?”

“As I said, the Tyranids are a threat to all,” Akil replied. “Besides, they are attacking the sector’s Librarium, a known repository of much valuable knowledge.” He quirked one corner of his mouth in a faint smile. “Knowledge is power, and we must guard it well.”

Stern blinked, briefly startled, but recovered quickly. “It would not go down well for my squads if we were discovered to have consorted with yours,” he commented guardedly. “The Imperial forces on the ground are, however, in dire need of more reinforcements than my men alone can provide. The xenos are amassing for another assault, and it won’t be long before they attack again.”

“Speed is paramount, then.” Akil paused for a moment, thinking. “If my battle-brothers are not... blatant... in the use of our abilities, and we keep our distance, the Imperial forces may not ever realise who exactly answered your call for reinforcements. If we’re victorious, I’m sure you can come up with some satisfactory explanation to our presence, or even gloss over it completely, as I intend to withdraw my forces as soon as possible afterwards. And if we fail...” He shrugged, his armour exaggerating the movement.

“If we fail, nobody will know or care,” Stern agreed grimly. He considered for a moment, then sighed and nodded. “As much as I dislike it, I see little other choice if I’m to keep this sector safe. As long as you can refrain from any overly ostentatious displays, and give us no reason to... pursue the matter once the xenos are dealt with, then any assistance you can provide would be... accepted.”

Akil nodded, then hesitated a moment. “I must warn you, my forces do contain elements that you would most likely prefer not to see, but without them I do not currently have the strength to be of any real help.”

Stern’s eyes narrowed in a hard frown. “Daemons?”

“No!” Akil’s reply was a little more forceful than he intended, and he took a breath to calm himself. “Never daemons. We have other methods at our disposal. There are no daemons in my forces, you have my word.”

“And I’m to accept your word as a Tho--”

“You are to accept my word as an Astartes,” Akil interrupted flatly.

Stern stared long and hard at Akil, but Akil didn’t twitch or waver, and finally the Brother-Captain gave a curt nod. “Very well. How soon can you launch?”

“Within the hour,” Akil replied. “Give us the coordinates, and we will be there.”

Stern nodded again. “Keep this frequency clear. I’ll be in touch.” He hesitated a moment, as though debating whether or not to say something more, then merely saluted before the connection closed and the vis-display flickered off.

Akil let out a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding, then looked over as Zuberi approached. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Zuberi asked dubiously.

“Not really, but leaving this sector to the Tyranids would be an even worse one,” Akil pointed out. “Rouse Runihura and alert Usi, Khentimentiu, and the Vindicator crew, and get them to the launch bay. I need to re-arm.”

Zubari raised an eyebrow. “You’re not taking your war staff?”

Akil gave a soft snort. “Even without Stern’s warning against ‘ostentatious displays’ I would not risk tapping into the Warp beneath such a shadow. Fire and steel should do well enough against Tyranids.”

“True enough,” Zubari agreed, then grinned faintly. “Good thing Sefu’s not with us at the moment. That wouldn’t have gone down well on either side.”

Akil let out a little bark of wry laughter. “Too true. His appearance is rather... startling, and I doubt I’d be able to keep him out of the fight no matter what. Though I admit, his abilities will be missed, and he’ll be rather annoyed at missing out.” He shook his head and started towards the bridge exit. “Well, no matter. You have the bridge. Keep me informed, and be prepared to run extraction at short notice, just in case.”

“Understood, Captain.”

With that, Akil left the bridge and headed for the armoury, his mind focused on the battle ahead. It promised to be very interesting.

Brother-Captain Stern watched the vis-display flicker out, his mind busy with all that he’d learned. Alaric moved up beside him, his brow creased in a thoughtful frown. “That... actually went better than I hoped,” he murmured, his voice quiet to keep it from carrying to the bridge crew.

“Let’s just hope it continues to go well,” Stern replied shortly. “If they take advantage of all this to turn against us, or raid the Librarium, we will have to deal with them immediately.”

Alaric snorted. “They would have to be stupid to try that in the middle of a Tyranid assault, and their captain did not strike me as the type to be stupid.”

“We shall see.” Stern leaned forward to eye the bridge crew. “No word of what has just transpired leaves this room,” he stated firmly, voice pitched to carry to every corner of the bridge. There was a murmured chorus of assent from the crew, and Stern eyed them all for a moment before stepping back, satisfied. He then turned to Alaric, dropping his voice. “That includes you too, Justicar,” he murmured. “I want no distractions from the fight against the xenos. Tell your men only that we have allies.”

Alaric hesitated a moment, then nodded sharply. “Understood, Brother-Captain.”

“Have no doubt that I will be keeping a very close eye on things,” Stern added. “Now, prepare your men and be ready to launch at a moment’s notice. I need to coordinate with the Imperial forces on the ground.”

Alaric saluted crisply and left the bridge. Stern stood still and silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts, then addressed his comms officer. “Establish a connection with the Imperial Guard forces planetside. We have much to prepare.”

“They’re falling back, Commander!”

Commander Kieler shot the writhing xenos on the ground in front of him twice in the head, then watched it twitch and die. Only once he was sure it was no longer a threat did he look up and scan the battlefield. Sure enough, what remained of the attacking xenos forces were breaking from combat and retreating. Many of the xenos filth were shot down as they ran, and Kieler took a few opportunistic shots of his own. The more they killed now, the less would come back at them later.

Not that it seemed to make much difference. Each wave of the xenos assault had been larger than the last. Unfortunately for the Imperial forces, their own numbers were diminishing rapidly.

Once the last retreating xenos was out of range and sight, Kieler let his gun arm drop and took a deep breath, ignoring the stench of battle. He ached all over, and a gash on his arm that he hadn’t noticed until now oozed blood. All around him, scattered amongst the shelled-out ruins of buildings, were the remains of battle; bodies of xenos and Guard alike, torn-up and cratered ground littered with rubble and soaked with blood and ichor, and wounded soldiers being tended by their weary fellows.

One soldier trudged up beside Kieler, wiping blood from his face before saluting. “Commander.” Beneath the blood and grime, Kieler recognised the vox-carrier of his veteran squad, and felt a flicker of a relief. “Veteran Lewis. Good to see you still in one piece.”

“Likewise, sir,” Lewis replied, and his eyes fell to the sluggishly bleeding gash on his commander’s arm. “You should get that tended, sir.”

Kieler glanced at his arm and shrugged. “It can wait. There are others in more need of aid than I.” He started to head back towards the command post, occasionally offering a nod of recognition or a word of encouragement to the weary and wounded soldiers he passed. Lewis trailed behind him dutifully, ever alert for any threat to his commander.

It took a while to get back to the command post, as it was set well back from the front lines. It, and indeed the entire battlefield, were overshadowed by the towering red sandstone cliffs looming at their backs. Atop the cliffs rested the capital city of the moon-planet, elevated above the surrounding plains. Deep within the city, sunk into the sandstone, lay the sector’s pride and joy.

The Librarium.

There were only two main routes up the sheer cliffs to reach the city, and the Imperial forces were lined up across their entry points with the command post set up between them, flush against the red sandstone. Streets and buildings surrounded the base of the cliffs, clustered around the access points. But after days of relentless fighting, most of the buildings were now collapsed and hollow ruins, and the streets were pocked with craters. Carefully positioned tanks blocked some roadways, with clear lines of fire out to the plains. Their crews scurried around them, taking advantage of the reprieve to reload ammo and carry out hasty repairs.

Beyond the shells of the buildings, the plains themselves were of red and brown dirt and rock, with scattered heaps of boulders and stocky stone pillars littered around the rolling, uneven ground. Fresh craters marred the plains, surrounded by xenos corpses of various sizes that had fallen victim to the shelling. But enough, more than enough, of the xenos forces had weathered the barrages of firepower and made it to the front lines, where the Imperial Guardsmen had had to hold them off at close range.

The fighting had been fierce, and waves of xenos had been crashing against the Imperial forces for almost a week. There had been a brief reprieve early in the assault, when a passing force of Tau had attempted to wipe out the Tyranids, but they’d been unsuccessful and had been driven off, quitting the planet-moon entirely before they could be totally overwhelmed. Since then, only the sheer numbers and stubborn pride of the Imperial Guard had kept the xenos from swarming the city.

But they were fast running out of numbers, as well as energy. Commander Kieler knew this - he felt it himself. He was bone tired, and there was no end in sight. Still, he refused to show any signs of weakness, and continued to walk with his back unbowed and his head held high. It seemed to give his men that little extra bit of encouragement to see him still proud and unbeaten.

Kieler finally reached the command post and nodded at the guards stationed outside it before ducking inside, with Lewis still in tow. The command post was alive with voices, as reports came in and were fielded and recorded. “Status?” Kieler demanded over the noise, and one orderly immediately approached him, data slate in hand.

“We’re still receiving reports, but so far all armoured division squads have reported in, as have the majority of the infantry squads,” the orderly informed him, still professional despite the edge of weariness on his voice.

Kieler nodded, ignoring the medic that had shown up at his side and was tending his arm. “State of the armoured division?”

“Most of the armoured division are still functional, but they’re running low on munitions.”

“See if any can be found and delivered from the city stores,” Kieler commanded, and the orderly nodded and tapped at his data slate. “Troop casualties?”

“At least seventy per cent either dead, missing, or injured too badly to keep fighting.” The orderly looked vastly unhappy at having to deliver such grim news.

Kieler resisted the urge to curse and just nodded sharply. “Organise whatever’s left of the city militia to post a watch from the city walls, and organise watch shifts amongst any Guard who are still uninjured. I want to know immediately as soon as they spot any xenos movement.” The orderly saluted and moved off, and a moment later the medic followed suit, having cleaned and bandaged the gash in Kieler’s arm.

“We’re not going to be able to keep this up,” Lewis murmured to his commander as he moved up beside him, his voice low to keep from being overheard and his expression grim.

“We have little choice,” Kieler replied flatly, giving Lewis a stern look. “We will hold out as long as possible, and longer. We may yet receive reinforcements.”

Lewis didn’t look like he held much hope for that, but he wisely kept his doubts to himself and just nodded. Kieler ignored his expression and thought for a moment. “See if you can find out what happened to the rest of my command squad,” he ordered eventually. “Promote replacements as necessary.” Lewis saluted and ducked back out of the command post, leaving Kieler to his thoughts.

As much as he hated to admit it even in the silence of his own mind, Kieler knew Lewis was right. Without reinforcements, the remaining Imperial Guard would most likely be overrun by the next assault. There had been talk of a strike cruiser entering the system earlier, but nothing had come of it and the latest xenos attack had driven the rumours out of his mind.

He was pondering the logistics of getting the majority of the Librarium’s contents into the deepest catacombs and then sealing the Librarium entrances, hopefully to be rediscovered in times to come once the xenos hordes had moved on, when a crackle of static echoed through the command post. Kieler immediately focused on the comms officer at the offending vox, who was hunched over the device and listening intently. A moment later the comms officer looked up at him, repressed excitement in his eyes. “Commander, it’s the Brother-Captain of the strike cruiser that’s just entered high orbit.”

Kieler wasted no time crossing the command post and taking the seat that the comms officer swiftly vacated for him, slipping one of the headsets on and settling it in place. There was no vis-display, since the command post lacked the power to support such a device, but the vox was enough. “Brother-Captain, this is Commander Kieler of the Chryos Second Regiment.”

The vox crackled slightly in his ear, the reply laced with static. “Commander Kieler, this is Brother-Captain Stern. I apologise for not arriving earlier - we came as fast as we could.”

Kieler couldn’t quite keep the relief out of his voice. “No apology necessary, Brother-Captain. I’m just grateful you arrived at all.”

“We’ll be--” Whatever the Brother-Captain said next was lost in a sudden surge of static, and Kieler winced at the raw sound grating on his ears.

“Repeat that, the signal’s breaking up,” Kieler said urgently into the vox, alerting the comms officer to the problem. The comms officer immediately began examining the vox unit, frowning and muttering to himself. There was more static and a keening whine that overlaid the Brother-Captain’s next words, rendering them practically unintelligible.

“Something’s interfering with the link!” The comms officer began fiddling with the vox unit, trying to maintain the connection, and was quickly joined by other comms specialists.

“Divert power to the unit, boost the signal gain!”

Kieler did his best to tune out the urgent commands and actions carrying on around him and concentrated on what he could hear from the vox unit, closing his eyes to better focus. He caught fragments of sentences - something about numbers, and allies. The growing hiss and crackle of static made it difficult to understand the full message, and the signal was getting worse by the second.

Then one of the comms officers did something to the vox, and the line suddenly improved enough that Kieler was able to piece together the last, and most important, sentence.

“Hold fast. Reinforcements are incoming.”

The connection abruptly cut off completely despite the comms officer’s best efforts, but by then it didn’t matter. Kieler opened his eyes, feeling his weariness dropping away as hope gave him a fresh surge of energy, and he began issuing crisp orders. “Prepare landing zones and let the men know we have reinforcements incoming. The Space Marines are here!” He watched the news bring the same hope and energy to the others in the command tent, and knew a similar effect would quickly sweep through the whole army.

Perhaps they’d survive this after all.