[b]Battle Cruiser Charon Omega CXII[/b] Location-Unknown Ghaul looked at the report in front of him. He did not know whether to sigh out of relief or dismay. He heart was swelling with joy even as it was crushed with sorrow. He had never felt this before. The trouble all lay in the holo notes floating above his console. The remaining Skyburners aboard the Hive Flagship had reported with certainty that the 'Taken King', the so called Hive God, Oryx, was well and truly dead. At first the Primus felt happy. Oryx was a phantom presence that had skirted the Empire for years, nibbling off its edges like a parasite. Cutting apart whole fleets and disappearing to strike from beyond wild space, massacring whole colonies or abducting them outright. For what ends...no one dared to guess. Now atleast that was over. Oryx had been brought low, but not by the Empire's hand. 
 And there was the cause of his pain. Six of these 'Guardians', only six, had slain a god all by their lonesome, while the efforts of no less than 5 Legions had failed. Even if they were scouting legions, they were still blooded Imperials. They should have captured the Sol System ages ago. But as Ghaul had seen countless times in the field, things had not gone to plan. 
 Even so far away, the whispers and rumors of that damned system had gradually wormed their way back to the heart of the empire. Ghaul had laughed when he first heard them. Immortal soldiers who ate rockets and could survive orbital strikes. Time traveling automatons he could believe, but even so the Vex still died when they were shot and stayed that way. These Guardians were some thing else entirely. 
 Then there was the loss in commanders. Valus Ta'aurc. Valus Ma'aul. Valus Tlu'urn. Primus Sha'aull. Even that bastard traitor Tra'aug. All rising stars brought low. Such a waste of potential! And finally Primus Ta'aun. Ghaul's heart ached at that name. A veteran. A hero to his people. Stolen and made a puppet by a false god. His comrade and friend from centuries past, disgraced forever. 
 Was that why he chose to lead the retaliation fleet? Revenge for a dead friend? Justice for an army lost to the red sand of Mars? Duty to an emperor who had sacrificed his comrades for.....nothing? Ghaul retracted this thought at once, appalled by his own mind. No. He would go because he followed orders. Because he was a good soldier. Because it was his life. There was no more cause than that. Just then a voice shattered the silence of his quarters, blaring through his ship's ancient comm system. 
 "Sir you are needed on the bridge".
 One of his newer lieutenants, young, but professional. 
 "Our ETA to the Sol System?" "Three days out Primus". Good. The journey across the cold black vacuum had been long but worth it. Ghaul put on his helmet leaving his elegant jump jets in their casing. They would plenty of action in the coming days but for now there were other matters to attend. The usual worries swarmed his mind like before every other campaign. Ammunition stocks had to be checked. There were still troops that needed to wake from cryo. Cages needed to be double, triple and quadruple checked. Ghaul could not wait to unleash his hounds, a trophy from the conquest of Taickoria. They had their fill with crushing bone and plasteel before being tamed and now the Primus wondered how their jaws would fare against this 'light' he kept hearing about. The Flayers were a different matter. Freshly unlocked and untrained, more feral than what he was used to. Ghaul still remembered vividly what had happened when a newly promoted Bracus had tried to tease one of them from behind what he thought was a locked door. The stains had been cleaned up but some men claimed they could still hear the screaming of that poor fool echoing through the ship. Ghaul entered the command room. Only his lieutenants were waiting for him. No one else stood at salute. Legionaries gazed at number filled screens dutifully. "Good lads", he thought to himself. Ghaul had long ago decided salutes were a waste of energy and time and had forbidden his men from any such distraction. Better to spend every second focused on the war than waste one waving your hand. It was a fact he was proud of, and a quirk that had raised more than a few eyes from high command. "Ready to begin sir?", his Valus asked. Ghaul gazed at his men. Even beneath their masks he could feel the power here. Soldiers new and old ready to shoot stab and bite their way to victory no matter what was thrown at them. Every last one ready to die if it meant being an atom closer to victory. His heart felt steady for the first time in days. A city had sent out a scream across the cosmos. Calling for any challenger to come and face them. And now, the Red Legion would answer. "Of course", Ghaul responded, "Let us commence".