Landing Platform
First Captain Linus Wolf was on the edge of nervousness. The Torchbearers had arrived, with mortal men and new recruits gathered. But the two figures before them were the ones who put him on edge.
On the left was Magos Sevnus-Theta, a hunchback of red cloth and metal. By his side stood the gleaming giant of Kariyan Heracal Borsa, Custodes of the Emissaries Imperatus. Representatives of Mars and Terra themselves, and commanders of the fleet.
One of the techpriest’s thralls handed him a human femur. He unscrewed one bulbous end, pulling out a roll of parchment. The document, so thin that Linus could see the Magos’ glowing eyes through it once unfurled, was read aloud in a mechanically augmented voice.
“For courage and valour” – the Martian said, without much indication he cared about either – “in the Hicrost Purges, the Angels Fissile have been deemed worthy of the Primarch’s Gift, blessed be the Returned Son. These technologies are left in the care and duty of Magos Sevnus-Theta, who will remain with the chapter and oversee the recruitment of new Primaris Space Marines as prescribed by the teachings, dataplans and instructions of Archmagos Dominus Belisarius Cawl.” A low, fluctuating buzz came from the tech-priest’s speaker as he repeated the decree in the language of his machine cult. He carefully rolled the document up again, and replaced it inside its bone casing.
“Chapter Master Marco Morath,” spoke the Custodes, “do you swear to accept these Greyshields, these fellow sons of Ferrus Manus, as your own, marking them with the colors of your chapter?”
Standing beside his captain, the commander nodded. “I do.”
“Do you swear never to march these Primaris Space Marines against the Imperium, to never turn them on its loyal servants through cunning and deception?”
“I do.”
“Do you recognise Roboute Guilliman as the Imperial Regent in the Emperor’s stead, as the commander of His Imperium as His armies?”
A moment of hesitation. “I do.”
The eyes of the Custodes were as piercing as kraken rounds, looking for any sign of weakness or treacherous intent.
“Then Torchbearer Task Force Serpillus bestows the Angels Fissile with Primaris reinforcement.”
