The Emperor Falls.

Part 13 - The Sands of Mars.

Aboard the Macragge's Honour, in all it's winding halls and stained floors, the command room is set out against the backdrop. Blue and Gold dashed around like sand in an hourglass and ancient Terran-esque pillars line the walls. Techmarines already onboard stand vigil, honouring the machine spirit within and appeasing whatever is left of the Omnissiah. They do not realise just how much the Emperor lied to them, and just what exactly they were praising. Nor will they realise, for now, their mission is to aid the 3 men, nay, gods standing ahead of them. Screens are lit, massive scans and relays performed across the desk-like mechanisms, servo-stuff churning with every action. The planet they currently search for, very likely destroyed, so near to their father's last resting place. They await their arrival, they have used basic sub-stellar space travel, jets and rockets of old. Primitive methods, but the only way to reach where they need be. 

Corvus' screens however are checking for something different, realising just how in-vain this mission is. If they reach Mars, they shall likely never see the Magos they seek, for he has likely departed or died. It is with this Corvus scans the warp signatures, attempting to see if Mars is even habitable after the Warp Storms caused by the Emperor's death. With his near daemon-like form, he scans both with technology and mind. He senses the terror and fear of those that did not make it. The ships were not enough for everyone. The screams of lovers holding each other in their last moments. Children ripped from their parents and from reality by the cold brutality of the Warp upon Humanity's home world. His fingers dash gracefully across holo-pict galleries and diagnostic displays while his mind races, psychically distinguishing Mars from the Warp, a nigh impossible task for even the most psychically in tune of his brothers.

Guilliman's screens relay what is expected of the Master Tactician, force numbers, locations of nearby ships, valuable resources etc. He looks for any reason to continue this journey. As he maneuvers through the screens and holo-visions, picts and devices, he suddenly stops. Within his mind, thoughts have taken hold and he envelops himself in them, conversing with himself like he would a friend. Or in this case, an enemy.

"Theoretical, what if we find nothing on Mars. Months of flying through space for what? There are hundreds of thousands aboard this ship. Have we led them to damnation?"  A part of him asks.

"Don't be foolish, Guilliman, those people need you. They need you and your brothers. If you abandon them now, you abandon all of humanity. There must be something on Mars. There must be...." He retorts, his face currently twisted into a form of confusion yet blind hope.

"Why, why must there be something?. What if we get to Mars and there is nothing. No evidence of a journey, no message left in desperation. Better, what if we find Cawl's rotting body drifting in the void. What will we do then? 'Oh we'll just keep on going' When does it stop Guilliman? When do we stop?" His mind begged, a part of him nearly rejecting his other side.

"I keep going because if I do not, then our father died in vain. He died protecting a people that I would leave in the dust. How could I ever forgive myself."

The ship is rocked. Guilliman is taken out of his trance. As they look out of the command window, they witness a miracle. 

Mars stands. Half of the planet at least, shimmering red swathes the land and the sight of forges is prevalent even from the void of space. Strange structures loom over smaller areas, nearer to where the immaterial and material meet. It's defenses also survive, awe-inspiring gun batteries and explosive weaponry. The "rocking" of the ship is one of it's defenses, a stasis field in-human in nature activating. It entraps the ship and prohibits any movement of the blue and gold goliath. Guilliman's Vox blares to life, crackling as it activates.

"This is Archmagos Dominus Belisarius Cawl. If I am not mistaken, this is the Macragge's Honour and you are Roboute Guilliman."

Guilliman's relief is near palpable. This mission was not in vain. Cawl lives!

 He voxes back. "Archmagos, it is good to hear your voice. We feared Mars had fell in the aftermath. We require your help Cawl. Do you still have the map of the Pharos Devices?"

"We shall discuss what you need when you land. For now however, I have someone to introduce to you." His vox crackles as Cawl adds another person to this communication. Person, in loose terms that is. A voice already crackling adds to the cacophony of the vox-caster. 

"Guilliman, good to see you. I wish I could give more than I have to the Magos and you but for now, some of your old Marines and some pylons is all I can do." The vox cuts and shields drop, as the brothers finally realise why those pylons and defenses look so foreign to them.