Dan Abnett - The Horus Heresy - Horus Rising

'No matter how sophisticated the means, abbrocar-ius.’ Abaddon said, 'sometimes communication is not enough. In our experience, most xenos types are wilfully hostile. Communication and bargaining is not an option.’ The first captain, like many present, was uncomfortable. The entire interex party had been permitted to enter the audience chamber, and the kinebrach were attending at the far end. Abaddon kept glancing at them. They were hefty, simian things with eyes so oddly sunken beneath big brow ridges that they were just sparks in shadows. Their flesh was blue-black, and deeply creased, with fringes of russet hair, so fine it was almost like feather-down, surrounding the bases of their heavy, angular craniums. Mouth and nose was one organ, a trifold split at the end of their blunt jaw-snouts, capable of peeling back, wet and pink, to sniff, or opening laterally to reveal a comb of small, sharp teeth like a dolphin's beak. There was a smell to them, a distinctive earthy smell that wasn't exactly unpleasant, except that it was entirely and completely not human.

This we have found ourselves.’ Shehn agreed, 'though it would seem less frequently than you. Sometimes we have encountered a species that has no wish to

exchange with us, that approaches us with predatory or invasive intent. Sometimes conflict is the only option. Such was the case with the... What did you say you called them again?'

'Megarachnid.’ Horns smiled.

Shehn nodded and smiled. 'I see how that word is formed, from the old roots. The megarachnid were highly advanced, but not sentient in a way we could understand. They existed only to reproduce and develop territory. When we first met them, they infested eight systems along the Shartiel Edge of our provinces, and threatened to invade and choke two of our populated worlds. We went to war, to safeguard our own interests. In the end, we were victorious, but there was still no opportunity for rapprochement or peace terms. We gathered all the megarachnid remaining into captivity, and transported them to Urisarach. We also deprived them of all their interstellar technology, or the means to manufacture the same. Urisarach was created as a reservation for them, where they might exist without posing a threat to ourselves or others. The interdiction beacons were established to warn others away.’

'You did not consider exterminating them?' Mal-oghurst asked.

Shehn shook his head. 'What right do we have to make another species extinct? In most cases, an understanding can be reached. The megarachnid were an extreme example, where exile was the only humane option.’

The approach you describe is a fascinating one.’ Horns said quickly, seeing that Abaddon was about to speak again. 'I believe it is time for that apology, abbro-carius. We misunderstood your methods and purpose on Urisarach. We violated your reservation. The Imperium apologises for its transgression.’

Envoys and delegations

Xenobia

Hall of Devices

ABADDON WAS FURIOUS. Once the interex envoys had returned to their vessels, he withdrew with the others of the Mournival and vented his feelings.

'Six months! Six months warring on Murder! How many great deeds, how many brothers lost? And now he apologises? As if it was an error? A mistake? These xenos-loving bastards even admit themselves the spiders were so dangerous they had to lock them away!'

'It's a difficult situation.’ Loken said.

'It's an insult to the honour of our Legion! And to the Angels too!'

'It takes a wise and strong man to know when to apologise,' remarked Aximand.

'And only a fool appeases aliens!' Abaddon snarled. "What has this crusade taught us?'

That we're very good at killing things that disagree with us?' suggested Torgaddon.

Abaddon glared at him. 'We know how brutal this cosmos is. How cruel. We must fight for our place in it.

Name one species we have met that would not rejoice to see mankind vanished in a blink.’

None of them could answer that.

'Only a fool appeases aliens.’ Abaddon repeated, 'or appeases those who seek such appeasement.’

'Are you calling the Warmaster a fool?' Loken asked.

Abaddon hesitated. 'No. No, I'm not. Of course. I serve at his will.’

'We have one duty.’ Aximand said, 'as the Mournival, we must speak with one mind when we advise him.’

Torgaddon nodded.

'No.’ said Loken. That's not why he values us. We must tell him what we think, each one of us, even if we disagree. And let him decide. That is our duty.’

MEETINGS WITH THE various interex envoys continued over a period of days. Sometimes the interex ships sent a mission to the Vengeful Spirit, sometimes an Imperial embassy crossed to their command ship and was entertained in glittering chambers of silver and glass where the aria filled the air.

The envoys were hard to read. Their behaviour often seemed superior or condescending, as if they regarded the Imperials as crude and unsophisticated. But still, clearly, they were fascinated. The legends of old Terra and the human bloodline had long been a central tenet of their myths and histories. However disappointing the reality, they could not bear to break off contact with their treasured ancestral past.

Eventually, a summit was proposed, whereby the War-master and his entourage would travel to the nearest interex outpost world, and conduct more detailed negotiations with higher representatives than the envoys.

The Warmaster took advice from all quarters, though Loken was sure he had already made up his mind. Some, like Abaddon, counselled that links should be

broken, and the interex held at abeyance until sufficient forces could be assembled to annex their territories. There were other matters at hand that urgently demanded the Warmaster's attention, matters that had been postponed for too long while he indulged in the six-month spider-war on Murder. Petitions and salutations were being received on a daily basis. Five primarchs had requested his personal audience on matters of general crusade strategy or for councils of war. One, the Lion, had never made such an approach before, and it was a sign of a welcome thawing in relations, one that Horus could not afford to overlook. Thirty-six expedition fleets had sent signals asking for advice, tactical determination or outright martial assistance. Matters of state also mounted. There was now a vast body of bureaucractic material relayed from the Council of Terra that required the Warmaster's direct attention. He had been putting it off for too long, blaming the demands of the crusade.

Accompanying the Warmaster on most of his daily duties, Loken began to see plainly what a burden the Emperor had placed on Horus's broad shoulders. He was expected to be all things: a commander of armies, a mastermind of compliance, a judge, a decider, a tactician, and the most delicate of diplomats.

During the six-month war, more ships had arrived at high anchor above Murder, gathering around the flagship like supplicants. The rest of the 63rd Expedition had translated, under Varvarus's charge, Sixty-Three Nineteen having at last been left in the lonely hands of poor Rakris. Fourteen vessels of the 88th Expedition had also appeared, under the command of Trajus Boniface of the Alpha Legion. Boniface claimed they had come in response to the 140th's plight, and hoped to support the war action on Murder, but it rapidly emerged he hoped to use the opportunity to convince

Horns to lend the 63rd's strengths to a proposed offensive into ork-held territories in the Kayvas Belt. This was a scheme his primarch, Alpharius, had long cherished and, like the Lion's advances, was a sign that Alpharius sought the approval and comradeship of the new War-master.

Horns studied the plans in private. The Kayvas Belt offensive was a projected five-year operation, and required ten times the manpower the Warmaster could currently muster.