"Russ should have a Blackstone Fortress."
The Custodian's words were resonant, as if bolstered by the irreversible will of the Master of Mankind.
Russ immediately beamed, winking incessantly at Blazkowicz as he leaned back against his blackstone headrest, nearly whistling. He had already made up his mind: whether or not to return the Blackstone Fortress after the Rangdan Xenocides ended would depend on the situation. At worst, he could simply vanish into the Great Void; surely Blazkowicz wouldn't chase him across the stars to demand it back?
With the Emperor personally speaking to allocate a fortress to Russ, the others naturally had no objections—nor did they dare to have any. Seeing that no one questioned the Emperor's authority, Blazkowicz nodded in acknowledgement: "Russ is allocated one Blackstone Fortress to serve as a strategic fulcrum for the war."
Projections of five allocatable fortresses appeared on the tabletop. Blazkowicz brushed his hand across the table, sliding one toward Russ to transfer control. With the authority in his hands, Russ's smile widened as he toyed with the projection, his satisfaction plain to see.
"Sanguinius." Blazkowicz called his brother's name, his hands moving without pause as he pushed another fortress's control toward him. "The Blood Angels are responsible for high-speed operations; they should have a mobile fortress."
The Great Angel rose from his stone chair, his face filled with profound gratitude. His sapphire eyes reflected a heavy mood as he placed his right hand over his heart and bowed deeply to his brother. He offered no excessive humility or refusal; a war engine of such power, if utilized correctly, was enough to anchor an entire front.
"Thank you," Sanguinius said softly. As he took control, the gloom in his eyes dissipated like morning mist. Among the three spearhead Legions, the Blood Angels' strength lagged behind that of the Dark Angels and the Space Wolves; any external aid was vital.
The Dark Angels not only possessed three Gloriana-class battleships, but the Legion also boasted a hundred thousand Space Marines. They could achieve brilliant feats even without a Blackstone Fortress. Furthermore, the First Legion held the personal authorization of the Emperor to retain and utilize technology from the Old Night, placing their strength far beyond that of other Legions.
The Space Wolves, meanwhile, were wild and uninhibited. Their warriors possessed a unique genetic sequence that granted them incredible endurance and aggression. Their physical prowess was superior, and their fleet and Legion size were substantial, putting their comprehensive strength well above that of the Blood Angels.
Sanguinius had answered the Emperor's call not just to refine the assault plan, but also to petition his father for naval fleets to expand his Legion's reach. The addition of a Blackstone Fortress to their order of battle was an undeniable boon; even if it was only a loan, it could secure many victories.
Blazkowicz nodded in return, then waved his hand again. A Blackstone projection slid across the table to stop before Lion El'Jonson. "First-born, the Extermination Fleet bears a heavy burden."
"In destroying the industrial hubs within the Rangdan Empire, you will inevitably face encirclement by the enemy's main forces. Remember to utilize high-mobility guerrilla tactics. Do not be tempted by minor gains; focus on drawing away and pinning down the enemy."
"With the First Legion tying them down from the rear, the pressure on the front lines will be greatly lessened."
The title "First-born" sat well with Lion, causing his resistance to the advice to fade as he took the words to heart. The Lion accepted control of the fortress. The Dark Angels were powerful, but they would not refuse reinforcements, nor would they discard practical benefits for the sake of pride.
"Ferrus." Blazkowicz spoke another name, sending control over and looking at his solemn brother. "You are stationed in the Third Theater, directly in the path of the Rangdan's frontal assault. A Blackstone Fortress will bolster your defenses."
Ferrus Manus accepted the gift with his silver-grey iron hands, succinct and decisive. He knew his brother spoke the truth. With the defection of Moribas Solas, the defensive lines of the Iron Hands and Ultramarines had been stretched to cover the Second Legion's original sector. With limited forces spread thin, a decisive weapon was needed to counter the Rangdan Battle Moons.
Four fortresses had been distributed, leaving one final one before Blazkowicz , which naturally drew envious glances. It was well known that the Nur fleet was massive and highly automated; he had already kept one fortress for himself. No Primarch would refuse a second. Combining their fire could lead to an exponential increase in energy output—two fortresses were several magnitudes more powerful than one.
The Custodian spoke again, conveying the Emperor's will: "Loan one Blackstone Fortress to me."
"Solas has defected. He will undoubtedly appear on the front lines, using his status as a Primarch to humiliate our soldiers, strike at the Imperium's confidence, and trample upon the Imperial Truth."
"I need to utilize a Blackstone Fortress to manifest psychic arts to erase his influence on the Imperial consciousness."
Blazkowicz raised his hand to transfer the control. Looking at the dark-clothed man shrouded in golden light, he asked: "How do you intend to do it?"
The Emperor placed his right hand on the blackstone table, infusing it with psychic energy until golden veins permeated the stone. The Custodian spoke for him once more: "Blackstone can amplify psychic power."
"I shall cast a psychic ward and use the fortress to magnify it, shielding the perception of human soldiers. Once the rite is complete, in the eyes of the Auxilia and the Astartes, Solas will appear as a monster—a creature to be loathed and reviled by humanity."
The room fell silent. After exchanging glances, the brothers nodded slowly: for now, the Emperor's solution was necessary. The news of a Primarch betraying humanity for xenos was a shock capable of shaking the Imperium's foundations.
"Ahem—" Amidst the silence, Lion cleared his throat, his voice low and serious. "Then... what about the Warmaster?"
"Solas has defected. The front-line Legions are currently operating under the plans he devised. How will the subsequent command be handled? We need someone to coordinate the deployment."
With the distribution of the fortresses over, Lion's probing question shifted the focus of the meeting. While he might have had personal ambitions, the facts were undeniable: once the initial deployment was complete, the massive army required a supreme commander.
The Primarchs looked toward the Emperor at the head of the table. The Master of Mankind remained silent but shifted his golden radiance, shaking his head to decline the role of supreme commander.
"The Emperor is not suited to be the supreme commander," Blazkowicz spoke up, stepping in to assist. "The Master of Mankind should serve as a symbol, not for issuing real-time operational commands."
"We need a supreme commander, but not a replacement Warmaster."
"What do you mean by that?" Lion's brow furrowed. He sought the authority of the Warmaster, but it seemed Blazkowicz did not support electing a new one.
"The title of Warmaster belongs to Moribas Solas." Blazkowicz met the Lion's verdant eyes, addressing the confusion directly. He tapped the table, his heavy, magnetic voice brookng no argument: "He will die in glory as the Warmaster during the Rangdan campaign, rather than being struck from the records or forgotten as a traitor."
"As brothers, we cannot control his choices, but we can grant our kinsman a final measure of dignity."
He looked around at his brothers, calmly stating his reasoning: "Moribas Solas, our brother, has left us. He betrayed the Imperium out of personal will. Yet before he left, he provided intel on the Rangdan and purged the Second Legion. In these actions, I see a fractured man, wandering between pain and hatred."
"If not for a hatred he could not let go of, Solas would have loved the Imperium, his Legion, and humanity, fighting for the Great Crusade. He is not a heartless man; he deserves an end where he dies in glory."
As the words fell, the sound of sharp intakes of breath filled the room. Though Blazkowicz's tone was calm, the underlying meaning made their skin crawl. He was almost pointing at the Emperor and declaring: Your methods were flawed. The source of Solas's hatred wasn't hard to guess—the Emperor had ruthlessly killed every xenos on the ship Solas had arrived in, giving his son no chance to explain.
"I support Blazkowicz's suggestion." Sanguinius stood up, his clear voice breaking the silence and drawing attention away before the Emperor could react.
"I agree as well," Russ raised his hand. In the culture of the Wolf King of Fenris, a fallen warrior's legacy was paramount.
Ferrus raised his hand, and with a sigh, Lion followed suit.
"Furthermore—" Blazkowicz nodded to his brothers, left his seat, and walked over to Ferrus. He grasped the iron hand and pulled his brother up from the stone chair.
Under the surprised gazes of the others, he raised Ferrus's metallic arm and shouted: "I nominate Ferrus Manus to serve as the Supreme Commander of the Rangdan War, responsible for coordinating the Legions."
"I have seen his talent firsthand. With the Third Line serving as the central hub and Ferrus stationed there, he is the rightful choice for Supreme Commander."
Ferrus looked stunned. He truly had not expected Blazkowicz to push for his appointment so forcefully.