Webway, Ilmarin
Sanguinius
147.M32
When he left his private chambers inside the palace where he currently resided, Varok, the leader of the surviving Krorks living in Ilmarin, was waiting for him just outside the entrance.
Although he himself was almost three metres tall, he was still half the height of the experienced chieftain, who, according to Tarvas, was one of the most distinguished generals of the War in Heaven, who gained particular fame for forcing the Silent King himself to retreat.
Sanguinius still couldn't believe after all these years that the incredibly intelligent and wise warrior was the ancestor of the half-witted orcs, of course, apart from a few exceptions.
What's more, practically every one of the 2 thousand Krorks living here was no less intelligent than any of his sons, the Astartes. And although they did indeed resemble orcs in appearance, the only thing they had in common seemed to be their love of fighting.
The Krorks also looked less like some savages and barbarians but like well-organised soldiers. Their armour was even better than those of the Astartes, as were their weapons. All were born in a war lasting millions of years, which forced them and the Eldar to make huge technological leaps.
He looked closely at the ancient chieftain; excitement was visible on his grey face and amber eyes, and this could mean one thing: a fight was coming.
"Varok," he greeted him, putting his right fist to his chest in a salute obligatory between krorks.
He did the same, slightly bowing his head, which meant that he recognised the superiority of the second warrior. Sanguiniu had managed not to lose in a duel with the Krork chieftain yet, although he had to admit a few times that it was close.
Varok was without a doubt at the level of a Primarch, even the most powerful of them, and in sheer strength and endurance, he outclassed them, even Vulkan.
"Sanguinius, my boys came across a group of Drukhari on a raid outside the fortress and brought one in for questioning," Varok said, his voice and manner reminding him of a mixture of Lion and Dorn.
Krork's words immediately piqued his curiosity, for he had not had the opportunity to fight the Dark Eldar since his arrival in Ilmarin, despite the fact that they hid in the Webway in great numbers, especially in their gargantuan city of Commorragh.
He had to admit to himself that he felt the need to fight real opponents, for the last few years had been limited to skirmishes with daemons or other Warp creatures, and none were particularly difficult to defeat.
"Strange. The Drukhari don't tend to venture into these areas; there's nothing worth their attention here," he noted, heading for the portal on the ground floor.
Varok followed him, and when he caught up, he replied, "They found a stable Warpgate nearby, leading straight into the middle of a thriving human system. They've set up a large base of operations right next to it."
Sanguinius lost his footing for a moment and frowned as he felt Black Rage briefly awaken under the influence of rapidly growing emotions, but he quickly stabilised him as he had practised. The thought that these xenos were hunting and enslaving humans, the inhabitants of the Imperium, was unacceptable to him.
The Emperor and the Imperium of Man may have treated their inhabitants as resources to be used, but that was something he and Vulkan could never come to terms with. What was the purpose of the Imperium's existence, if not for the good of its inhabitants?
The survival of the race? Why should a race deserve to survive if it treats its own people as a resource to be used and thrown away?
Seeing how the Aeldari were willing to wipe out an entire planet to save one of their own, he couldn't help but feel bitterness.
This question had been with him since the Great Crusade. Did the Imperium deserve to exist? He wasn't saying it was the worst. It couldn't even be compared to Chaos, which was one big plague on the galaxy that should be completely eliminated.
The Imperium fought against Xenos and chaos in defence of humanity but itself murdered or abandoned the people it was supposed to protect. And when he often heard from his father and brothers that it was a necessary evil, like the alliance with Mars, he felt like throwing up. For him, these were excuses.
"You're thinking about your race's empire again, aren't you?" He heard Varok's voice from the side, who looked at him with understanding because they had talked about this topic many times.
"Yes." Sanguinius admitted, then sighed, "The state my race was in, and still is, is painful to behold. So much potential only to become what we fight against."
Varok nodded, then replied, "I feel the same way when I see our degenerate descendants, a shadow of our former power and glory. So did Orain and the others when they saw their race degraded, consumed by excess and decadence."
"That doesn't mean change is impossible. The future is wide open, and now that you're here, Sanguinius, the chance for a better tomorrow is closer than ever. What this galaxy and the races that inhabit it lack is one Divine Being, but not just any being. A being that is the embodiment of justice and law, but above all, of what is right."
"That would mean subjugating all those who don't want to by force. How is that any different from what's happening now?" The primarch interjected, still plagued by doubts about the Old Ones' plans for him.
He wondered how much of Sanguinius would actually remain in this new divine being.
Ancient Krork stopped in front of the portal itself and looked at Sanguinius, replying, "A little more light and hope in this grimdark universe. It will still be better than anything in this galaxy. Let's not kid ourselves; this entire reality is a cursed place of constant war and death. It will never be a paradise, but we can make it a little more liveable."
With that, Varok stepped into the portal.
Meanwhile, he stared at the swirling sheet of energy for a moment. Perhaps the Krork Chieftain was right. If there was a chance to make this place a little brighter and easier to live in, he intended to do so, but on his own terms.
Gripping his spear tighter, he followed Varok.
On the other side, he saw two thousand krorks preparing for battle, most of them dressed in powerful power armour that, given their height, resembled Dreadnoughts more.
He didn't see any Jotunns, massive machines resembling titans on eight legs. He suspected that this was due to the type of fight they were expecting. If this was to be an attack on the Drukhari base, it had to be a swift assault that would quickly crush the enemy's resistance.
His sons preferred a similar method of fighting. The Blood Angels were famous for this type of action even before the Emperor found him on Baal.
He spotted Varok standing in the right corner of the hangar, accompanied by his second and third-in-command Thrall and Durotan, four ancient Aledari, and several other Krorks guarding a prisoner standing among them.
He rose lightly into the air and, with a few flaps of his snow-white wings, covered the hundreds of metres that separated them.
The others greeted him briefly, and then he had time to look at the captured prisoner. The scarred, grey face of the male seemed young, but it also bore the marks of many battles and fights. The black hair was cut short, which was rather surprising for an Eldar.
But the green eyes, so far fixed on the krorkas and Orain and the other ancient Aeldari, looked in his direction, and after a moment they widened in shock, as if he recognised the primarch and was surprised to see him alive.
This did not surprise Sanguinius himself, for his fame and that of his brothers extended throughout the galaxy, and many Drukhari had fallen at his hand.
He looked at the gathered people once more. "What's our plan?" he asked, but when instead of an answer, they all looked at him expectantly, he understood that they expected him to lead the attack.
This was probably to strengthen the cooperation between him and the Krorks, whom, due to their small number, he knew by name and had exchanged a word with more than once.
"What about the prisoner? Have you obtained all the information you could?" he asked, walking over to the holographic map of the slavers' base, glancing at Drukhari out of the corner of his eye.
Orain nodded slightly, saying, "Mind combed his mind. He couldn't hide anything. As you can see, the pirates are slowly turning an ordinary bridgehead into a fortress. And there are over 6 thousand of them stationed inside, or at least that was the case two weeks ago when Ezraes was at the base."
"And that number has probably increased." Arhyon added, also approaching the hologram floating in front of them. "These spoilt children are preparing for a major raid through the Warp gate in a few months. We can probably expect another 2-3 thousand." The Eldar's tone clearly indicated what he thought of his descendants.
Sanguinius looked at the map again, then said, pointing to the docks being built on the eastern side. "Right now, this is the weakest and most vulnerable point of the base. And since it is well-covered from any ship fire, we must strike directly and quickly."
"Varok will attack the port, Thrall will assault from the front, and Durotan from the west, where the fortifications are still being built." He explained, pointing at the individual targets.
Thrall looked at his commander and then at Sanguinius himself, piercingly. "I understand that you intend to distract them somehow so that we can reach the location unnoticed?"
He nodded, then walked over to the Drukhari and towered over him, asking, "Tell me, what would you do to keep your soul from being consumed by Slaanesh?"
The Drukhari's eyes narrowed and burnt with a green flame. He clenched his teeth, then growled, "You mock me, mon'keigh?"
One of the krorks, Garosh, slapped him across the face, knocking him to the floor. Sanguinius raised a hand, stopping any further action.
Crouching down beside the Dark Eldar, he looked into his eyes, burning with anger and hatred, and asked, "Let me rephrase the question. What would you do for me if I could protect you from the gaze of the She Who Thirst?"
For a moment, the negative emotions in the other's eyes were replaced by disbelief and a glimmer of hope, but they quickly disappeared under the pressure of anger.
"That's impossible. There's no escaping the Dark Prince. The only thing you can do is postpone the meeting with him." The Drukhari replied, his voice full of fury but also reconciliation with his own fate.
Sanguinius looked at him in silence for a moment, then said, "Look at the beings in this room. Your ancestors and the krorks here remember the War in Heaven, which you've only heard of in myths, where they fought enemies worse than Slaanesh."
"Not to mention the three Old Ones who lead them, beings who created your race and who remember a time when the Chaos Gods didn't exist yet."
The Drukhari looked at him a little calmer; the people gathered here must have made an impression on him. Hesitating, the Dark Eldar asked, "What are you getting at?"
"All of us here ultimately aim to stand against the Ruinous Powers and, even more, against other forces hostile to us, no matter how powerful. If you swear allegiance to me and fight for our cause, I will give you a taste of my blood."
When the Drukhari tried to interrupt him, Sanguinius silenced him with a look from his glowing golden eyes. "At the moment of your death, Slaanesh will be able to find only me, for my blood will become a barrier between him and you. And your soul will dissolve into the Immaterium."
"Moreover, I do not know how long it will take, whether hundreds of years, a millennium, or three, but the time will come that I will not only be able to protect you but also to keep your soul whole."
Sanguinius waited for the other's answer, but Ezreas only stared into space, completely lost in his own thoughts. So he gave him time, feeling the gazes of the others on him, who clearly did not like his idea.
The Great Angel of the Imperium knew the risks, but the chance of gaining loyal spies among the Drukhari was too tempting.
He was torn from his own thoughts by their captive, whose voice seemed stronger, more certain, as if he had found some purpose, something worth fighting for. "What do you expect of me?"
Sanguinius looked at him with a smile, then asked, "How many of your people do you think would take me up on my offer?"