01x10 - Reborn in Blood

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Reports that ninety-six percent of the

enemy on the ship have been eliminated.

Keep the purge in operation

until it is complete.

- Aye, Ship Mistress.

- And find me Lord Hadrael.

If he lives and there is

a Thunderhawk operational,

we need it in the air

and going down to the city.

You believe that Lord Ancaeus

and the others still endure?

Something always endures.

Ignis?

The ship.

The Sword of Baal?

Free in the void.

I am cold

Your sarcophagus is breached.

I did not know

I would ever feel a chill

on my skin again.

I am working, ancient one.

You shall endure.

Rest, brother

Not enough left of me

to save a second time.

Brother

I would have liked

to see the skies of Baal

one last time.

Oh, Ignis

Brothers, the enemy are broken.

They

Oh.

And lo, another Angel falls.

The Captain?

Cut down.

We must find a way of

signalling the Sword of Baal,

if it still endures.

Signal distortion

is still preventing vox signal.

There are means

of overcoming that limitation.

You are the magos.

You are the one whose signal brought

the Captain into this pit of abominations.

Correct, in a limited manner.

I am the means

by which the death of this xenos cult

was brought about,

and by which your Captain was saved

and could join you.

I am also the means

by which you can communicate

your current status

and location to your warship.

How?

Speak.

They will need to know it is you.

What is this?

A piece of lost truth.

Speak now, this cannot be sustained.

Speak

Ship Mistress,

we have a message from the tower.

Its broken through

the atmospheric distortion.

Another trick.

I don't believe so, mistress.

Listen.

Sword of Baal,

this is Sergeant Kazarion.

We endure.

When your gunship arrives,

you will transport me and this artefact

to your ship immediately.

No, we do not leave yet.

That is not a wise course of action.

The opening in the Warp storms

that currently allows us

to depart this world may close,

requiring that you exercise

the utmost haste to

We will recover our dead.

We shall not leave before we have them.

And they shall remain with us.

Always.

So many lost.

Their deeds will be etched in stone

within the Hall of Honour.

The corridors of the ship will echo

with emptiness on the way back to Baal.

No Chaplain. No Apothecary.

No

no Captain.

There is scarcely enough of us left

to hold rites for the fallen.

We won, Kazarion.

Ancaeus.

Angel's blood,

he could fight, couldn't he?

The rest of us can only hope

to die so well.

I don't deny the glory

of his death, brother.

I lament for the loss of his life.

He would want you

to bear that blade in his place, brother.

We're ready, my lord.

We await your command.

- Lord Kazarion

- I hear you, Ship Mistress.

We are on our way.

Omni Fifty-Five Fifty-Five,

retest function of the patella axis.

Compliance.

I am noting adhesive tension

in the latter piriformis cabling.

Meridian One-Seven,

loosen and re-seal

the latter piriformis cable clusters.

Compliance.

Dirge Three-Three,

lower the sarcophagus.

Compliance.

Perhaps a flawed calculation in the

There were no miscalculations.

Iron endures where flesh fails.

In blood we are born,

and in battle we are remade.

Kazarion, this is Hadrael.

It is done.

The blood of martyrs

is the seed of the Imperium.

Our genefather, Sanguinius,

is said to have penned

that most ancient of axioms.

Perhaps this is both true and untrue,

in the way of all legends.

I cannot say.

But our Chapter possesses

fragments of our father's final words,

rendered in ink on parchment.

Inferno shells loaded

into bombardment cannons.

Coordinates integrated.

Firing solution locked.

Burn it.

Burn it to ash.

Open fire!

Even now, our father wrote,

even now amongst the stars,

there are heroes

whose tales will never be told.

Angels whose legacy is naught but ash.

Know this, my sons,

the blood of those heroes

remains priceless,

though it was spent in silence.

It is done.

Make ready to return to Baal,

Mistress Solken.

Gladly, my lord.

Remember these words.

Remember them, always,

as you sail into the dark.

With that truth

carved into our hearts now,

we set sail for Baal.

We set sail

for home.

To Arch Magos Phados-Aleph-1.

We have located

and secured the blackstone labyrinth key.

In spite of the time expended,

I project that our plans

will still come to fruition.

The machine knows all.

Praise be the machine.