Sanguinius came up to his brother, a goblet in each hand, and handed one to the

Khan. 'To fraternity,' he said, raising his. The wine was unctuous, heavily spiced,
no doubt priceless.

'You must accept my apologies, the Angel said, gesturing towards two immense
thrones carved from mahogany and capped with ivory. 'My herald was mistaken from
the outset - they tell me that Star Hunter is a name no longer to be uttered.

'No apology needed,' the Khan said, seating himself awkwardly opposite his brother.
Despite himself, he could not help staring at the way the whispering wing quills
settled around the Angel as he reclined, like a shimmering cloak of silver pinions.
'It means nothing to us.'

'White Scar,' said Sanguinius, amused, though not maliciously. 'Those are the two
words now making us talk from Terra to Ultramar. Would it flatter you to know that
you are a source of some fascination, brother? That there was a race among us to
see who could corner you first?'

'Not especially.'

'No. I guess not.'

'We were Talskar, that was the origin of it,' the Khan said. For some reason,
sitting there in the presence of this dazzling, ethereal presence, he felt there
should be some explanation. 'Our livery now, as it was on Chogoris, is white. They
misheard the first, they observed the second. Their words, not ours.' Sanguinius
shrugged.

'We're all made into images for them. That is our purpose, you might say.' He
leaned forwards conspiratorially. 'And between you and me…' he flashed his
impossibly handsome smile, I am not really an angel**.'**

The Khan laughed at last. 'And such things are impossible, or so our Father told
me.'

'Yes, I had the same conversation with Him. Somewhat awkwardly, in my case.
Sanguinius took a long sip of wine. I've been hunting you for a while, Jaghatai. My
compliments - your Legion has learned some shipmastery. I thought my crews were
good, but I believe yours could school them.'

'We're used to staying on the move.'

'Clearly. And the destruction of Ninety-Two-Twelve - impressive. Once I heard you

had located the home world, I made for it, expecting you to be there for some
weeks.'

'You've fought them before.'

'On Melchior. The knowledge that they are wiped out gives me satisfaction. And they
are, I take it, exterminated?'

'All of them,' the Khan said darkly.

'Then I relish the prospect of never hearing them mentioned again.' Sanguinius
cradled his goblet in the palm of his hand, swilling it absentmindedly. 'All xenos
are foul, but my sons developed a particular hatred for those.'

'Then why were you not sent to destroy them?'

'Your pardon?'

'You had the measure of them.' The Khan took a swig of his own. 'We used
intelligence your Legion had gathered. I wonder why you were not sent to finish the
task.'

The Angel shrugged. 'We had other battles.'

The Khan smiled cynically. 'I've not been doing this for as long as you, but I'm
not slow-witted.' He placed his goblet beside him and leaned forwards in the
throne. 'We were sent there to witness the depravities of devotion. Through this we
were enjoined to understand the wisdom of the Imperial Truth.'

'You do not see the need for it?'

'I'm yet to be convinced.'

'I'd heard the rumours.'

'This is where you tell me that I need to understand the necessity - that we shield
them for their own good, and that the deceptions are noble, for all that they
remain illusion.' Sanguinius said nothing for a while. He looked at his brother
thoughtfully, the last of his smile dying away. 'You have psykers in your Legion,'
he said at last.

'Of course.'

'A Librarius?'

'Of a kind.'

'Then that is already a refutation,' the Angel said. 'The populace can believe our
powers are bounded by science. Even our generals, if they want to. We know it
isn't.' The Khan looked at his brother warily, as if cautious to avoid some kind of
trap. 'And what do you suppose that leaves us with?'

'I will not debate with you of gods and monsters,' the Angel said, 'but the psyker
cannot be avoided. Already there are those among us who wish to see them banished,
shut away or blunted lest they unlock something fouler within us. Those voices are
growing stronger. Despite what you may believe, my wayward brother, the Throne
listens to its sons. One day, if we are careless, we will lose all these things,
and then we will be the ones at fault, for we did nothing.'

The Khan looked sceptical. 'I care nothing for what another primarch does.'

'They won't stop at their own Legions.' Sanguinius remained reclined, almost
languid, his pristine golden robes catching the candlelight. 'For the puritan,
there is no comfort in scouring one's own house; all houses must be made clean. You
are on your own, Jaghatai, heading further into the void, an empire unto yourself,
so you don't hear the whispers.'

'And I care nothing for whispers.'

Sanguinius snorted. 'You should. I've seen worlds destroyed by them. He too placed
his goblet to one side. 'Word has come to us of your gifted caste. Stormseers, yes?
You know as well as I do that denying the far side of the veil only hampers the
pace of the Crusade, you could be a powerful ally to us, were you convinced to add
your voice to ours. Numbers are important.'
The Khan said nothing.

'Magnus is the greatest,' the Angel went on. 'In this matter, he carries the most
weight, but he is… controversial. The preservation of this requires reasonable
heads, ones who can make the case without extremity.'

'Now you come to it,' the Khan said. 'What you wished to say. So tell me plainly.'

'A defence of the Legion Librarius. A unified proposition - its dangers

acknowledged and its benefits defined. At present, when our psykers are named
sorcerers, we have no reply, for what do those words even mean? Scholarship is
needed, a greater understanding of what we have. Your tradition is as rich and
subtle as any - we wish for you to stand with us.'

The Khan thought on that. 'I've never desired fellowship with any of you,' he said
eventually, almost uncertainly, as if the sentiment were being dragged out of him.
'Do not take that as pride. More like necessity.' He grimaced. 'I find obligation
to others… difficult. When I see walls, I wish to escape them. That is a flaw, no
doubt, but then we were made the way we are for a reason. You would not find me an
easy colleague.'

The Angel laughed. 'Have you met the master of Olympia yet? These things are all
relative.'

'Our weather-makers are central to who we are. They fought with us before He came.
They will do so for as long as we take up blades.'

'Then defend them.'

For a moment longer they held one another's gaze, as if embarked on some silent
test of will. The similarity between them was evident then - two demigods, created
from the same source and imbued with the same terrifying level of self-belief. The
Angel was the more splendid in aspect, his outline hazy with the gold reflection
from his artificer plate, yet the Khan, lord of the plains-world, matched him in
stature. As ever with him, there was the sense of something hidden, an elusiveness
that was integral rather than incidental, as if when reaching out to grasp him you
would always fail, clutching at air while his designs played out across another
battlefield entirely.

But it was the Khans eyes that moved away first.

'I will think on it,' he said.

'Russ is opposed,' the Angel said. 'Mortarion and Perturabo are opposed. Ferrus is
opposed. We need allies, taken from the masters of more enlightened Legions. Remain
aloof forever, and they will outnumber us swiftly.'

'Does our Father know of this?'

The Angel shrugged noncommittally. 'Few things escape Him.'

'Engagement will not be easy. Already we are committed to more conquests.'

Sanguinius smiled. 'You will find a way to aid us, if you choose to do so.'

The Khan suddenly looked up at him. 'You have a name in mind,' he said.

'You will take your own course.'

'Say it, for what it's worth.'

'I do not seek to guide you.'

'Say it.'

The Angel affected nonchalance then, for the first time, and not altogether
convincingly.

'Lupercal's star shines strongest, all know it,' he said. 'To have him as a part of
this, to even make the suggestion, if the chance came… Well, it could not hurt.'