One day later.
The new flagship of the Weeping Legion emerged from warp transit, materializing in orbit above the agrarian world in the Ivan System.
This behemoth stretched 37 kilometers, a battleship forged over three years within the orbital dockyards. Armed with thirty particle lance emitters, a single arc projector, defensive turrets surrounding the hull, and the latest warp-teleportation device, it was a masterpiece. Its name, like that of the former flagship now lost to the Legion, was also "Daughter of the Storm."
Inside its bridge, Foros and three captains from the Legion watched the holographic display before them, waiting as the scanning array's probing waves spread across the agricultural world below.
Soon, a red marker blinked onto the display, with an information window extending from it.
**"Thirty suspected hostile targets detected."**
**Coordinates: X192, Y33**
The display also provided a visual outline of the suspected hostiles: thirty Chaos Space Marines, each hailing from different warbands.
"Could it be that Talon Sector, too, is about to face a coordinated assault from traitors?" one captain speculated aloud.
"If we knew their purpose here, Talon's High Command wouldn't have instructed us to capture one alive," another captain replied before turning to Foros. "Lord Captain, please permit me to lead the squad to eliminate these foes."
Foros shook his head. "Select ten elite fighters—I'll lead them myself."
The captains wanted to object; after all, it was hardly necessary for Foros, their leader, to descend personally to deal with a mere thirty enemies. But they understood that Foros's decision likely stemmed from more than a simple desire for victory; the Legion relied on Talon's resources and had only recently received this new flagship. Respect for Talon's command must be demonstrated.
"One minute until deployment," Foros said, fitting his helm before striding from the bridge.
Ten elite warriors were quickly assembled to accompany him to the teleportation platform. While Foros himself wore his finely crafted powered armor, his comrades donned the fearsome Terminator suits.
Once they had lined up on the platform, the device began its calculations and, within seconds, transported them to the planet's surface.
As they reappeared on a vast plain, each soldier was wrapped in the energy shield of the teleportation device. Everything momentarily dissolved into a stream of lines before the world reformed around them. The thirty Chaos Space Marines, scattered across the fields below, were locked in battle with the planetary defense forces. Although lacking heavy artillery, the Chaos Marines easily kept their foes suppressed with only bolters in hand.
When Foros and his men appeared, both the defenders and the Chaos forces fell silent for half a second.
The defense troops were astounded by the sudden arrival of Astartes on their unremarkable world, while the Chaos Marines were taken aback by their opponents' size and the distinctive Terminator armor they wore.
"For the Blood of Saint Gillian!" the Weepers advanced, guns blazing.
The Chaos Marines retaliated while taking cover behind their escape vessel. Yet, armed as they were with the Terminator armor, Foros and his men had a distinct advantage in this close-quarter battle. Ignoring the explosive rounds directed at them, they pressed forward with ruthless efficiency, each aiming to decimate the enemy before sustaining injury.
Heavy bolter rounds and plasma blasts riddled the escape pod's hull, opening it up like a sieve. With little else to hide behind but rocks and crops, the Chaos Marines dwindled rapidly.
"Advance, brothers." Foros commanded, gripping his energy spear as he led the way, his squad moving in concert, firing as they closed the distance.
"Foros!"
A shout cut through the din of gunfire as one of the Chaos Marines leapt from behind the escape pod. It was Ryann, a former captain of the Astral Claws, whose name Foros still remembered.
The Astral Claws had fallen to corruption under the Red Corsairs during the Badab War, and their leader remained Huron.
Ryann, however, seemed no mere renegade. His purple armor glinted under a spiked collar encircling his neck, and on his back, he carried a canister filled with a sludgy green fluid.
Despite the weight, he moved with unnatural agility, darting through incoming fire, crouching low, then leaping high, traversing the distance between them in seconds.
Two power blades slipped from Ryann's waist as he closed in on Foros, knives flashing as he advanced.
Foros moved forward, a single, well-aimed thrust of his energy spear obliterating Ryann's arm in a shower of gore.
Rather than succumbing to pain, Ryann only seemed further enraged. But it was futile—Foros seized him by the throat, and one brutal headbutt left Ryann unconscious.
With the captive secured, the remaining Chaos Marines had no further purpose. Foros and his men swiftly dispatched them, piling their bodies and erasing them with plasma fire.
The battle ended swiftly.
Foros entered the escape pod to confirm it was free of any additional foes, discovering instead a large crate within.
As Foros approached the crate, it emitted a scanning beam before opening automatically.
Inside was no bomb but a cache of bolters and power spears, well-used and scarred by battle, some still smeared with blood. Above them, a screen flickered to life, playing a video.
"If someone finds this box, please deliver it to the Weeping Legion stationed in Talon. Find Lord Captain Foros and convey the following message."
"Foros, my brother. If you and your Legion ever find yourselves pushed to the brink by the Imperium, remember that Huron will always welcome you."
The screen showed none other than Huron, leader of the Red Corsairs.
"Damn you." Foros muttered, shooting out the screen before giving the command: "Destroy this pod. We return to Talon."