Chapter 202 - Loken and the Space Wolves
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"He is a son of Horus. The last of the Luna Wolves. He and Lord Bjorn are living history."
"Treat him with the same respect you would show Lord Bjorn."
"Lord Bjorn himself has spoken to me of this hero's deeds. Even our long-vanished primarch — our Wolf King — acknowledged him."
"Then what has he actually done, Great Wolf?"
"He went back into the traitor ranks to gather intelligence for the Wolf King's assassination of Horus. And at the end, it is said he boarded the Vengeful Spirit alongside the All-Father himself to confront that traitor face to face."
"What strength. What glory."
On the road to the Luna Wolves Legion encampment, Great Wolf Logan was in a rare talkative mood. He spoke to his Wolf Guard about the man who had extended this diplomatic invitation to the Space Wolves.
Loken.
"Garviel Loken."
Logan's gravelly voice rolled the name out slowly.
"Horus, we despise him. We scrutinize him. But this one man, this one alone, we must give the respect he is due."
"Ha. If it were that bastard Horus doing the inviting, I might not have bothered coming at all."
"I would have told him: see you next winter."
The Wolf Guard burst out laughing.
The phrase was a Fenrisian proverb. It meant see you in the next life.
To throw those words back at a gene-primarch was, to put it mildly, a slight.
"My lord, you do have a gift for making other people's lives difficult."
"Don't say that, Sev. I have no real dealings with Russ's wolf cubs. Better to let my good nephew Loken handle it."
Near the Luna Wolves Legion encampment, inside the Night Lords Legion's own quarters, the Lord of the Night was speaking with his Legion Master.
Curze and Sevatar.
Horus had tasked Curze with reaching out to the Space Wolves. Curze had promptly handed the whole thing off to Loken.
Loken hadn't said a word against it. He was the Legion's First Captain now. Inter-legion diplomatic affairs fell squarely within his duties. And as the successor to Captain Sejanus, the Luna Wolves' former diplomatic representative, diplomacy was, by rights, his to carry.
Curze had his own concerns.
"The infiltration by the Sons of the Hydra is a serious problem. Any ideas, Sev?"
Sevatar was quiet for a long moment.
"The Alpha Legion's infiltration capabilities are the finest among the eighteen Legions."
"But our advantage lies elsewhere. Psychological terror. Security warfare. Asymmetric guerrilla operations. Those suit us."
"The Legion is not what it once was. We are no longer that despicable force built from Nostramo's criminals. Lord Guilliman has given us quality recruits. Our tactical doctrine has begun incorporating counter-infiltration training."
"And within our ranks, we now have that lord's sons, your brother's sons. Corax's children."
Curze smiled.
Not the cold, unsettling grin Sevatar knew from memory. This one was different. Softer at the edges, shaped by something like nostalgia.
"The little idealist raven's chicks." A quiet laugh. "How amusing. The ravens have landed among my bats."
"The Raven Guard's stealth capabilities are excellent. Their counter-reconnaissance instincts are sharp." Sevatar pulled the conversation back on track. "I recommend establishing a dedicated special operations unit within the Legion."
"Approved."
Curze said it simply, then: "Who did you have in mind to lead it?"
Sevatar's mouth curved into that same kind of smile.
"The one you mentioned to me before. Nykona Sharrowkyn."
"Him. Where is he now?"
"He was drifting around Lord Fulgrim's area for a while. My guess is he still has reservations about the clone. But right now, he's probably at the attack site collecting evidence."
,
Loken received Logan and his retinue on behalf of his gene-father.
The Luna Wolves had come prepared. Mentally, at least.
In the Great Heresy, the Space Wolves and the Sons of Horus had built a blood feud deep enough to drown in. Even Loken, loyal Luna Wolf that he was, still wore the name Son of Horus like a brand. That wasn't something either side could simply ignore.
So whatever came next, whatever cold mockery or cutting words Logan's warriors felt inclined to offer, Loken had already decided. He would endure it.
He would not add to his father's diplomatic troubles. Not here. Not now.
The Great Wolf's party arrived.
Loken stepped forward. He dug back through memory for Sejanus's way of doing things, the old captain's ease, his composure, and put on a steady smile. He'd rehearsed his opening words until they were smooth. Everything in order. Nothing left to chance.
He didn't get the chance to use any of it.
Before Loken could speak, Logan moved first.
The Great Wolf raised his hand in the Fenrisian salute, a gesture reserved for warriors who had carved their way out of the most brutal battlefields alive, or for those who had died on them gloriously. His Wolf Guard followed without hesitation, all of them saluting Loken in unison.
"Lord Garviel Loken. I, Logan Grimnar, salute you."
"Lord Bjorn has spoken of you to me. He said you once fought alongside our Wolf King, and that you stood with the Master of Mankind at the very end."
Loken went still.
Then the memory surfaced. The face of the Wolf King, Leman Russ, gene-primarch of the Space Wolves. He had crossed paths with him. On Terra, in the final days, he had infiltrated the Vengeful Spirit alongside the Knights-Errant, gathering intelligence for the Wolf King's plan to strike at Horus.
"Fought alongside him is too strong a word," Loken said. "I only provided Lord Russ with the intelligence he needed."
"Do not be modest. We Wolves do not forget those who have shown kindness to our primarch, to our warriors, or to the All-Father."
"I thank you for that."
Loken dipped his head and extended his hand. Logan clasped it.
"Bjorn, if I'm remembering correctly, he was a warrior of Wolf King Leman Russ?" Loken asked. "He's still alive?"
"He still lives, my lord. He sleeps within a Dreadnought."
"Then all is well."
Loken laughed quietly at that. Just a soft sound, more relief than humor. To learn that another warrior from ten thousand years ago still walked, still knew of him, still remembered, it eased something in his chest that he hadn't realized was wound tight.
After a few more exchanged pleasantries, Loken brought the conversation around to business.
He laid it out plainly. Alpha Legionnaires disguised as Iron Hands had attempted to assassinate his primarch. The attempt failed. The attackers had detonated the site to destroy the evidence. Loken was asking Logan to go to the Iron Hands Chapter encampment and speak as a third-party witness.
"Alpha Legion?" Logan's brow knotted hard. "What are those damned traitors trying to accomplish?"
"To manufacture a diplomatic rupture between the Luna Wolves Legion and the Iron Hands Chapter. My commander's identity makes it worse. Before the sons of Lord Ferrus, any connection to Horus — any at all, gets amplified beyond proportion. Truth stops mattering very quickly."
Logan was quiet for a moment.
"What exactly do you need from me?"
"I implore you to go to the Iron Hands Chapter encampment. As a third-party witness. Speak a few honest words on my commander's behalf."
Logan didn't answer immediately. "Could you take us to the explosion site first? We may be able to help, find something useful, some critical detail the others missed."
He agreed.
The Great Wolf had his reasons. Loken's standing was part of it, Lord Bjorn's endorsement carried weight in Fenrisian hearts that nothing else quite matched. But it went beyond personal regard.
Logan was rough. He was blunt. He was, by most measures, a savage. But he wasn't irrational.
He understood what Horus meant to the Imperium now.
If Horus died at this moment, Logan might feel a private flicker of satisfaction, he was honest enough with himself to admit that. But the Imperium would not be better for it. Not even slightly.
And more than anything else, the All-Father would not be pleased.
Word had reached them all by now. The All-Father upon the Golden Throne, he could speak again.
No one wanted to be the reason that voice turned cold.
➤ Next: Hard Evidence — Face to Face
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