Maloghurst had consulted a data-slate provided by a waiting deck officer. 'I confirm the 140th Expedition was given a complement of eighteen vessels.’

Then what are these others?' asked Aximand. 'Enemy ships?'

We're awaiting sensor profile analysis, captain.’ Maloghurst replied, 'and there has been no response to our signals as yet.’

Tell Master Comnenus to be... more emphatic.’ the Warmaster told his equerry.

'Should I instruct him to form our components into a battle line, lord?' Maloghurst asked.

'I'll consider it.’ the Warmaster said. Maloghurst limped away down the platform steps onto the main bridge to speak to Boas Comnenus.

'Should we form a battle line?' Horus asked his commanders.

'Could the additional profiles be alien vessels?' Qruze wondered.

'It doesn't look like a battle spread, Iacton.’ Aximand replied, 'and Frame said nothing about enemy vessels.’

They're ours.’ said Loken.

The Warmaster looked over at him. You think so, Garviel?'

'It seems evident to me, sir. The hits show a spread of ships at high anchor. Imperial anchorage formation. Others must have responded to the call for assistance. Loken trailed off, and suddenly fought back an embarrassed smile, "гаи knew that all along, of course, my lord.’

'I was just wondering who else might have been sharp enough to recognise the pattern.’ Horus smiled. Qruze shook his head with a grin, sheepish at his own mistake.

The Warmaster nodded towards the display. 'So, what's this big fellow here? That's a barge.’

The Misericord7.' suggested Qruze.

'No, no, that's the Misericord. And what's this about?' Horus leaned forwards, and ran his fingers across the hard light display. 'It looks like... music. Something like music. Who's transmitting music?'

'Outstation relays.’ Abaddon said, studying his own data-slate. 'Beacons. The 140th reported thirty beacons in the system grid. Xenos. Their broadcasts are repeating and untranslatable.’

'Really? They have no ships, but they have outstation beacons?' Horus reached out and changed the display to a close breakdown of scatter patterns. 'This is untranslatable?'

'So the 140th said.’ said Abaddon.

'Have we taken their word for that?' asked the War-master.

'I imagine we have.’ said Abaddon.

There's sense in this.’ Horus decided, peering at the luminous graphics. 'I want this run. I want us to ran it. Start with standard numeric blocks. With respect to the 140th, I don't intend to take their word for anything. Cursed awful job they've done here so far.’

Abaddon nodded, and stepped aside to speak to one of the waiting deck officers and have the order enacted.

You said it looks like music.’ Loken said.

'What?'

You said it looks like music, sir.’ Loken repeated. 'An interesting word to choose.’

The Warmaster shrugged. 'It's mathematical, but there's a sequential rhythm to it. It's not random. Music and maths, Garviel. Two sides of a coin. This is deliberately structured. Lord knows which idiot in the 140th Fleet decided this was untranslatable.’

Loken nodded. You see that, just by looking at it?' he asked.

'Isn't it obvious?' Horus replied.

Maloghurst returned. 'Master Comnenus confirms all contacts are Imperial.’ he said, holding out another wafer slip of print out. 'Other units have been arriving these last few weeks, in response to the calls for aid. Most of them are Imperial army conveyances en route to Carollis Star, but the big vessel is the Proudheart. Third Legion, the Emperor's Children. A full company, under the command privilege of Lord Commander Eidolon.’

'So, they beat us to it. How are they doing?' Maloghurst shrugged. 'It would seem... not well, lord.’ he said.

THE PLANET'S OFFICIAL designation in the Imperial Registry was One Hundred and Forty Twenty, it being the twentieth world subjected to compliance by the fleet of the 140th Expedition. But that was inaccurate, as clearly the 140th had not achieved anything like compliance. Still, the Emperor's Children had used the number to begin with, for to do otherwise would have been an insult to the honour of the Blood Angels.

Prior to arrival, Lord Commander Eidolon had briefed his Astartes comprehensively. The initial transmissions of the 140th Expedition had been clear and succinct. Khitas Frome, Captain of the three Blood Angels companies that formed the marrow of the 140th, had reported xenos hostilities a few days after his forces had touched down on the world's surface. He had described 'very capable things, like upright beedes, but made of, or shod in, metal. Each one is twice the height of a man and very belligerent. Assistance may be required if their numbers increase.'

After that, his relayed communiques had been somewhat patchy and intermittent. Fighting had 'grown thicker and more savage' and the xenos forms 'appeared not to lack in numbers'. A week later, and his transmissions were more urgent. There is a race here that resists us, and which we cannot easily overcome. They refuse to admit communication with us, or any parlay. They spill from their lairs. I find myself admiring their mettle, though they are not made as we are. Their martial schooling is fine indeed. A worthy foe, one that might be written about in our annals.’

A week after that, the expedition's messages had become rather more simple, sent by the Master of the

Fleet instead of Frome. The enemy here is formidable, and quite outweighs us. To take this world, the full force of the Legio is required. We humbly submit a request for reinforcement at this time.'

Frome's last message, relayed from the surface a fortnight later by the expedition fleet, had been a tinny rasp of generally indecipherable noise. All the articulacy and purpose of his words had been torn apart by the feral distortion. The only cogent thing that had come through was his final utterance. Each word had seemed to be spoken with inhuman effort. This. World. Is. Murder.' And so they had named it.

The taskforce of the Emperor's Children was comparatively small in size: just a company of the Legion's main strength, conveyed by the battle-barge Proud-heart, under the command of Lord Eidolon. After a brief, peace-keeping tour of newly compliant worlds in the Satyr Lanxus Belt, they had been en route to rejoin their primarch and brethren companies at Carollis Star to begin a mass advance into the Lesser Bifold Cluster. However, during their transit, the 140th Expedition had begun its requests for assistance. The taskforce had been the closest Imperial unit fit to respond. Lord Eidolon had requested immediate permission from his primarch to alter course and go to the expedition's aid.

Fulgrim had given his authority at once. The Emperor's Children would never leave their Astartes brothers in jeopardy. Eidolon had been given his pri-march's instant, unreserved blessing to reroute and support the beleaguered expedition. Other forces were rushing to assist. It was said a detachment of Blood Angels was on its way, as was a heavyweight response from the Warmaster himself, despatched from the 63rd Expedition.

At best, the closest of them was still many days off. Lord Eidolon's taskforce was the interim measure: critical response, the first to the scene.

Eidolon's battle-barge had joined with the operational vessels of the 140th Expedition at high anchor above One Forty Twenty. The 140th Expedition was a small, compact force of eighteen carriers, mass conveyances and escorts supporting the noble battle-barge Misericord. Its martial composition was three companies of Blood Angels under Captain Frome, and four thousand men of the Imperial army, with allied armour, but no Mechanicum force.

Mathanual August, Master of the 140th Fleet, had welcomed Eidolon and his commanders aboard the barge. Tall and slender, with a forked white beard, August was fretful and nervous. 'I am gratified at your quick response, lord.’ he'd told Eidolon.