156. Successive Measures

The next few hours reflected the insanity of the recent ones. The only blessing was the fact that most support troops had stayed behind. Drawing several companies of perfectly disciplined Space Marines back was far easier than to get all the humans to come out behind their cover and run to their extraction vehicles.
On top of the usual, controlled chaos of troop movement, anyone who was remotely allowed to wanted to talk to Vox personally. Titus was of little help in this. However sharp his deductive mind was, the actual occurrences eluded him as of yet. He busied himself with keeping the swarms of authorities calm and listening for rumours springing up.
The Wings of War talked a lot and with ease but in a situation like this, misinformation could do a lot of harm.
Vox meanwhile had her priorities squared away for once and talked to Ferone as soon as he set foot on the bridge. She informed him personally of the loss of his men and the two of them shared a silent moment despite the uproar around them. Astartes lost without their gene seed recovered was a grave occurrence indeed.
“I will see to it that their chapters are informed”, Ferone promised and managed a mirthless smile alongside a half-hearted shrug. “We have standard forms for this”, he confided in her. “And they were all of different chapters. Single brothers being lost usually passes without comment.”
Vox looked down. This could hardly have gone more pragmatically.
“May I ask a favour of you, commander?”, she inquired cautiously.
“Anything, my lady.”
“I would like the remaining men to become part of my honour guard.”
The usual, egalitarian sadness Ferone bore since Elaine had died suddenly got a subtle crack and for the first time since she had returned from the cave, Vox picked up on it. It struck her that Ferone would be the only man here to remain unconnected with her.
“I would ask you too…”, she said hesitatingly but Ferone lowered his pain filled gaze immediately. He shook his head.
“My duties lie elsewhere”, he said so quietly that she could hardly hear him over the noise around them.
Vox laid her hand to his silver left shoulder guard, her fingers trailing over the crest of the Inquisition for a moment.
“Ferone…”, she started but was interrupted.
“My Lady Vox Sanguinius”, he said with a gentle bow to her. “I will be glad to exceed to your request and transfer my men under your direct command. It will be their greatest honour, I’m sure.” He raised his light eyes to her and thawed in a hard to describe way. “I promise, I will explain to Corven that it will be his”, he vowed solemnly.
Vox needed several heart beats to understand that he was making a joke and there was something like a memory that stirred deep inside her. She had been able to answer to this. Formerly there had been humour to carry her through the abysmal dismay she felt in herself and her friends. Sanguinius almost got in the way of her next words because he judged them stupid but she pushed him aside with force.
“I’m sure we could manage to move you to my guard as well if we put our minds to it but… Our squads bathe together.”
Now, Ferone laughed and the noise tingled in Vox’s hearts like a spark bringing them back to life.
“I am compelled to admit that I’d neet more than a parachute to survive that.”
“How do you know about the parachutes?”, she asked in surprise. And what was it with these parachutes in any case? She had to get back to Titus about this topic.
Ferone grinned.
“You wrote a very interesting report, my lady”, he reminded her.
They looked at each other and sinking back into their bitter reality was less devastating after this moment of lightness. Seven comrades and the chapter mistress lost and there still were dozens of people who wanted to talk to Vox. All the necessities.
Ferone took his lady’s hand and breathed a kiss on it before he turned to leave. While he departed and Captains Maulbeer and Elysse walked over to her in a particularly purposeful manner, Vox noticed Saphane standing in the background. The chaplain was pale and hollow-eyed. That was all she noticed before her captains claimed her attention but she was quite sure that she had never seen Saphane like this. Having been among the earliest requesting to speak to Vox over vox, the first chaplain now withheld any attempts of communication. She just waited and spoke to no one. Then pain about their loss seemed to pool and writhe in her while she watched the proceedings with almost deadened eyes.
Managing everything Celeste had been responsible for took hours and that was one of the more straightforward side effects of the death of a chapter mistress.
Far worse was the question of succession. Usually, the captains of any chapter stood united against the common enemies of mankind but in the sudden vacuum of power they suddenly lived in a political minefield. Nobody could rise to the top by stepping on too many toes but without coming forward, there was no chance at all. Each willing candidate was aware of this.
Further difficulty was added by some captains who were themselves unwilling to take the burden of a chapter mistress. Titus had overheard them discussing that Vox should claim the position to avoid a lengthy succession debate.
Having hesitated to pull the Wings of War into her treacherous endeavour in the first place, Vox was unwilling to consider this option. This issue emerging made it obvious that alternatives needed to be found quickly.
This was the point when Vox asked Saphane to retire to the audience chamber with her. Not only did she want to check on the friend, she desperately needed to be reminded how a succession was regulated at all.
Everyone else was left to their duties. For the Astartes this meant, tending to their wounds and equipment. What the humans got up to remained a mystery.
Saphane entered the audience chamber without a word and stood with a leaden uncertainty about her. She had to be prompted to sit down. Vox waited sympathetically. The pain for the loss of a friend she herself felt was mirrored in Saphane’s beautiful features ten times over.
“Oh, my lady Vox”, the chaplain finally whispered as she stared at nothing in helpless grief. “I can’t believe it.”
“I’m sorry”, Vox said.
“We had so much quarrel lately”, Saphane told her in despair. “She was angry because you always put Titus first and I was angry because she never put me first and now she’s gone…”
A certain kind of alarm was sparked in Vox’s mind. It was the horrible feeling that she had missed something important and that things were a lot worse than she had thought already.
“We talked so often about this”, Saphane went on meanwhile. “What would happen if one of us was left behind and now, I’m here and I still hear her words and they don’t help at all.”
“What did she say?”, Vox inquired hoarsely.
“‘As long as the Emporer’s light shines, we’ll find our way through the darkness’.” Saphane lowered her gaze. “And then she laughed and said ‘and if you lost the way, you just ask Vox’.” The friend raised the gaze of her bright blue eyes to Vox and it was filled with so much pain that the angel could hardly endure it. “What should I do, my lady?”, Saphane asked. “Under the burden you carry these days, do you still have time to point me the right way?”
Vox was deeply affected by these words. She knew she had neglected her old friends but that this kind of doubt had arisen from her disregard was hard to accept. She needed a long time to sort through all contemplations.
“We both know that I’m not the same as before”, Vox finally said quietly. “But I can tell you that our way leads to Terra. And there, we will lay eyes on our god”, she promised.
Saphane closed her eyes.
It was a quiet breakdown. Hardly a sigh passed her lips while tears trickled over her cheeks. Vox moved over to her and took her chaplain into her arms. She did it against the uneasiness of Sanguinius who felt it was inappropriate to touch people when they already felt humiliated for showing weakness. Unable to tell how she knew, Vox knew better. Saphane sank into the embrace she was offered as far as it was possible in power armour and Vox stroked through her blonde curls until the tears stopped.