Flash Points: Orus (Part Two)
No matter how many times it bore repeating, Perturabo was at his best when creating objects or designs that carried no military purpose. Those that bore witness found Arx Conventus, half-completed as it was, utterly breathtaking. Just one more achievement to pin on the Lord of Iron.
Like all things the Imperium built, the High Citadel was grand and intimidating. Functional yet ostentatious in design. Fulgrim called it
quaint. Dorn would've called it a good start.
Thankfully, Perturabo tended to err on practicality and multi-purpose if possible. If he had enough time, Arx Conventus could've held over a million souls comfortably and with enough industries, hydroponics, and leisurely activities to make one of the most sought-after locations on Orus.
Unfortunately, it could only fit 100,000 souls at the moment. Not that it was an issue for the council meeting. Even with the arrival of thousands of ships, those directly participating numbered only a few thousand.
Kesar Dorlin was quite relieved about that. It made getting a conversation going with his brothers easier without being bothered by one thing or another. Right now, the Daemonsbane needed to try and address whatever concerns lay among his brothers. The most recent conversation Ledimus hadn't precisely inspired Kesar with confidence.
So when Roboute asked to speak with him, Kesar gladly accepted the distraction. Roboute had been absent these last few years, but the like the rest of them, the Lord of Maccrage hadn't been idle.
Kesar expected a discussion about the state of the Imperium. Granted, he figured that would be saved for the council meeting itself. To Kesar's surprise, Roboute asked him for a favor of all things.
"I need you to train a psyker." The request was odd enough, but Kesar wanted to hear his brother out. At first, Kesar readied to suggest that Roboute ask Magnus for assistance…that was until Roboute described
why he was making this request.
How Roboute found this Arthon Jor'li or
what led to him encountering a Greater Daemon of Khorne was another topic that Kesar was going to have Roboute, but what piqued the Daemonsbane interest was how Arthon handled himself.
The servants of the Blood God were notoriously difficult to fight in single combat, especially if you were a psyker. Even trained Wardens would've prepared themselves accordingly. Perhaps one could chalk it up to Arthon being a beta-level psyker, for such raw power gave them an edge, but a psyker that inexperienced against daemonic kind?
It was a miracle that he survived with his mind intact, but this psyker could fight the daemon to a draw? Roboute might not have had the best eye for martial talent, but even Kesar could see that such a man had the potential to do
more.
When Roboute explained that this psyker was an incredibly dangerous fighter, Kesar could also see why the Ultramarines would want to use such an asset. Kesar could've found a lot of good uses for a combat-focused Beta.
However, Kesar did note that training a psyker in the art of battling daemons wasn't the same as teaching a Warden. Even if Kesar took a personal interest in training Arthon, he'd likely never obtain the same skillset as a Warden.
Roboute was unconcerned, though. All he wished was for Arthon to get some experience and guidance on the matter. "He was rattled after this battle. Whether it was because of the daemon or having to recognize his own limitations, I don't know. Yet I know you can impress upon him lessons that won't have to be as hard-earned in battle."
Strange as it was, Roboute heard what sounded like
genuine concern. The same sort that Kesar would've given to one of his sons. It was peculiar to see how much Roboute had changed these last few years. His arrogance had been whittled away. Yet Kesar wonders what it cost Roboute.
In any case, he saw no need to deny his brothers' request. Kesar agreed.
—
Magnus the Red needed to thank Perturabo for including a library and mediation park within this Arx Conventus. While it lacked the amenities of Tizca, it was undoubtedly a lovely little place to read, write, and quietly reflect. Magnus was doing quite a lot of reflection these days.
Things had been moving so fast these past few years. Magnus hadn't expected his life to take such a sudden turn for the strange. More often in the most unexpected of ways. He never imagined he'd be standing inside a park made by his often surly genius of a brother, waiting for his other siblings as they completed the act of rebellion.
Fate had been strange to him and his family. Often cruel, sometimes forgiving, and rarely rewarding. However, Magnus could at least say that fate had been
fair.
Just as the bad came, so too did some good. Magnus and his sons were still alive, with their minds and souls intact. Oddly enough, his alliance with the Eldar had proven incredibly fruitful and even allowed him to connect with his brothers. So much knowledge was gained without it costing his soul or dignity.
He might have even found a touch of happiness among the discoveries.
Unfortunately, the rest of the galaxy had also started changing. All of which was to say that things were reaching their breaking point. Whether or not the Imperium would survive intact was a question weighing on everyone's mind.
Magnus didn't want to think about the implications of failure here. Especially if he was forced to choose who to side with. Loyalty, Magnus found, wasn't so straightforward as others made it out to be. Family mattered above all else.
Speaking of family, Roboute finally arrived. The Lord of Maccrage asked to speak privately with him about a specific matter. At first, Magnus assumed it would be about that
thing of theirs, namely their covert alliance with the Eldar.
Instead, Roboute began their discussion by asking Magnus for a favor of all things. Now the Crimson King assumed this was about the proposed psyker program that Roboute had in mind, and he was
half right.
"I need your help with getting a psyker trained."
"Is this for the one my father mentioned, Arthon Jor'li?"
"Correct. One of Arthon's most recent fights enlightened him about his shortcomings, which he now seeks to address."
An admirable goal. Although, based on what Magnus heard of this "Streetfighter," he was more brawns than brains. Roboute readily admitted that as well but defended Arthon by saying the man has "heart" and a work ethic like no other.
Roboute described Arthon as having Ferrus's mindset regarding being the best combatant in a room, mixed with Fulgrims flair for theatrics and Leman's ferocity. An odd but dangerous combination.
What confused Magnus was just how adamant Roboute was in getting this favor. It was no issue for the Red Giant. Magnus was obliged to train another to better control their powers. Yet Roboute sounded
worried.
"Arthon believes that his strength comes from his powers. I need to hone his mind. His experiences with other psykers are born only of battle masters and fighters. A warrior can excel beyond their limitations by first understanding and mastering them."
Strange to hear Roboute acting the part of a warrior. Stranger still was his apparent fondness towards Arthon. This is a good sign that Roboute was serious about his desire to "fix" the Astra Telepathica. If nothing else, putting another face on those affected by the current psyker programs would go a long way to keep the Lord of Maccrage dedicated.
Magnus still had plenty of questions about why Roboute wanted to be so involved with this favor, but if nothing else, his logic was sound. Better to train this psyker than not to. So Magnus agreed to help.
—
When Perturabo was designing Arx Conventus, he wanted to build a citadel that was functionally multi-layered with a network of embankments and battlements that were modular. The untrained eye would've never noticed that the supposed uniformity of design acted as camouflage.
Every section, room, and wall of Arx Conventus could be reconfigured if given enough time. The most popular rumor was that the Lord of Iron had thousands of hidden dugouts and compartments, perhaps even entire floors.
A few Astartes even joked that the High Citadel was all a front for a
secret base built deep into the mountains. Par the course of Perturabo after the Maelstrom War. He had gained a slight flair for underground fortresses and whatnot.
If nothing else, there was at least plenty of space for a man to sequester himself away. And for a misanthrope like Mortarion, that suited him just fine. There would be plenty of time to plot and speak with his brothers and allies accordingly. So, for now, he simply wished to be alone.
His brother, Roboute Guilliman, had other ideas in mind. The Lord of Maccrage found the Pale King brooding within one of the empty construction yards, which had recently installed a plasma generator in this wing. Most men would stay away, if not for the threat of any "leaks" from the reactor, but because of the sweltering heat.
Neither Mortarion nor Guilliman seemed to mind it.
At first, Mortarion was ready to tell Guilliman to simply "go away" and that any discussions could be held later with their kin. The Pale King had no desire for secrets or politicking at the moment, for there would be plenty of that soon enough.
But Guilliman either failed to heed Mortarions frustration or didn't care either way. Par the course of the Statesman. He was too used to people agreeing with him outright that the prospect of someone telling him to piss off went over his head.
The conversation started off strange, though. Guilliman asked Mortarion for a favor. A favor? Did he need a particular poison or toxin? Need a specific world destroyed? Or perhaps he wished for Mortarion to favor a proposal he wanted to bring up?
It was none of those. Guilliman wanted Mortarion to train someone for him.
A
psyker of all people.
Mortarion wanted to laugh at Guilliman before dismissing the request outright, but the Pale King was slightly stunned. Either his brother failed to remember that he
hated psykers, even after he attempted to bridge relations with Magnus, or Guilliman was trying and failing to get this psyker killed in a not-so-subtle manner.
Guilliman, however, was sincere. As he explained it, this Athron Jor'li was a fighter. A beta who was once a champion on his world. The more Guilliman explained, the more Mortarion didn't know whether he was disgusted or intrigued at the idea of psyker celebratory gladiators who
somehow had no control over the humans.
His explanation was strange as well. He wished for this psyker to be trained by Mortarion because he could give him the physical condition needed to fight the
real enemy from within the Warp.
"Arthon has the attributes and conditioning to survive, but that isn't good enough. He needs to be tested thoroughly. He understands that training under you and your sons will be difficult, but Arthon is familiar with hellish training. You are the toughest among all of us, Mortarion. You won't pull any punches with him."
Mortarion could very well
kill this psyker. Nothing would stop him from trying, either. If his brother thought that because he was doing this, a favor might prevent such ends, he would be sorely disappointed if something happened.
As such, Mortarion was ready to say no until he saw the look in Guilliman's eyes. This wasn't some flight of fancy or some egotistical project. He believed Mortarion could help him
because of who he was and not in spite of it.
The Pale King mulled it over in his head, weighing the pros and cons, before deciding that he would accept
only in exchange for another favor from Guilliman. The Lord of Maccrage had seemingly unlimited funds compared to the rest of the Imperium, and Mortarion needed some liquid assets for a few smaller projects.
He just needed enough money to not get noticed. Guilliman was the best source of that sort of concealment. And so it succeeds. Guilliman agreed to the favor, seemingly unperturbed or worried about the amount requested by his brother.
Fine then, Mortarion would agree to help train the psyker. If nothing else, just to get Guilliman to leave him alone.
---
@Daemon Hunter Another omake