[Volume Two: The Great Crusade] “My lord!” Rockefeller, Chapter Master of the First Chapter, stood at the head of a host of Legion warriors formed up for inspection.
Tens of thousands of Space Marines arranged themselves into hundreds of formations, each anchored by a standard-bearer, lining both sides of the path to receive Lorgar.
“We salute you, great Primarch.” The mortal soldiers and naval crew knelt on one knee, awaiting his review.
“None of that.
Go back to what you were doing.” “Rockefeller — walk me through the warship.” Rockefeller jogged to Lorgar’s side the moment the order landed.
Lorgar, meanwhile, pressed a parchment document into the hands of a nearby aide.
“Revise the Legion’s order of battle.
The old one is too bloated.” Lorgar had read through the Word Bearers’ organization.
It centered on five Chapters — the First through the Fifth, and its structure could be broadly summarized in three tiers: warriors belonged to squads, squads belonged to companies, companies belonged to Chapters.
That framework held essentially unchanged all the way to their open betrayal at Isstvan V.
Even the Primarch’s return and the flood of Colchisian recruits had barely touched the Legion’s basic structure, they only stacked more layers on top of it.
Across the Legion as a whole, the Word Bearers employed every squad configuration found in other Legions, and they kept everything large.
Where other Legions might be content with, or even prefer, small, tight units, the Word Bearers packed far more bodies into their frontline formations.
Squads of twenty were unremarkable within Word Bearers Chapters and companies, and they typically operated in a Tactical Squad configuration.
Those squads were the Legion’s core and the foundation of its entire philosophy of war.
Space Marines pressed forward by any means necessary, aggressively and without hesitation.
Squads fed into companies, which typically numbered around a hundred warriors, though that figure could run higher or lower depending on the company’s assigned role.
The Word Bearers tended to dedicate entire companies to specific battlefield functions, designating them as Assault Companies, Line Breaker Companies, Reconnaissance Companies, and so on.
These companies were usually deployed together, which spoke again to the Legion’s essential nature: supremely built for frontal warfare and large-scale engagements.
Fully integrated companies were then combined into Chapters ranging anywhere from 500 to 3,000 warriors.
Each Chapter carried a name and heraldry drawn from Colchisian constellations, the Jagged Sun, the Bone Throne, the New White Moon, the Weeping Palm, the Spiral Whip, among others.
These designations ran throughout every unit in the Legion, and these large formations were generally the basic operational unit of any Word Bearers campaign.
Most Word Bearers expedition fleets were built around at least one Chapter; the largest could contain several.
Within this command hierarchy, Lorgar stood as both military commander and spiritual guide of the Seventeenth Legion, and the Legion’s internal structure reflected that dual nature, divided between the military and the spiritual, between mind and soul.
On the military side, the chain of command was straightforward and unambiguous: every Chapter Master led a Chapter, every Captain led a company, every Sergeant led a squad.
It was common practice for a Chapter Master to designate one of those Captains as a Sub-commander, serving as a personal adjutant.
Within each Chapter, the second line of authority ran through the spirit rather than the sword.
Chaplains were nominally attached to companies and Chapters, but in practice they formed a brotherhood of their own.
Every Chaplain was a warrior, yet direct command held little interest for them.
What they cared about was the inner lives of their brothers, strengthening their spirit, steeling their battle-brothers against temptation and threat.
Each Chaplain’s rank rose with knowledge and the respect earned over time.
At the top of that hierarchy stood the High Chaplains, the most senior and most central figures in the Chaplaincy, analogous to the Inner Circle of the Dark Angels, and at the very heart of it all sat the First Chaplain.
Honestly, if this system had been allowed to run its course, the Word Bearers Legion would have become one of the most loyal and most formidable Legions in the Imperium.
Unfortunately, rot had set in from within.
Those two animals, Erebus and Kor Phaeron, had fouled the entire Legion like a pair of rats spoiling a barrel.
Fortunately, both threats had already been sent back to the Warp by Lorgar’s own hand, through thoroughly physical means.
All that remained now was keeping a close eye on everyone else.
Lorgar turned tactical arrangements over in his mind as he moved through the immense vessel, a Gloriana-class Battleship, the Word Bearers Legion’s flagship: the Fidelitas Lex.
The Gloriana class was something that could only be described as a colossus.
These ships had been built during the height of the Great Crusade, spanning the late 30th Millennium and the early 31st.
How many had ever been constructed was no longer known with any certainty, but during the Great Crusade every Space Marine Legion had received at least one.
Beyond that, every Gloriana-class vessel differed considerably from the next, in size, in appearance, in character.
Each one was a perfect and wholly unique work of art.
The Ultramarines’ flagship, the Macragge’s Honour, stretched 26 kilometers from bow to stern.
The Iron Warriors’ Iron Blood ran 20.
And each ship bore the unmistakable hallmarks of its Legion, whether in firepower, boarding capability, engine speed, or otherwise.
The most distinctive feature of the Fidelitas Lex, as it turned out, was that it looked like a cathedral.
The Word Bearers’ religious proclivities had sent this warship ten thousand years ahead of every other Imperial vessel, it had already arrived at the look of an oversized flying church before anyone else had even considered the idea.
For the record, Imperial warships of the current era had not yet descended to the style of cramming cathedrals onto every available surface.
Passing through a vast hall, Lorgar came to the chambers several Chapter Masters had prepared for him.
CLUNK.
CLUNK.
CLUNK.
CLUNK.
Metal gears turned.
The heavy iron doors swung open on their own.
Artificial sunlight poured in, and the entire room lay before him at once.
Several hundred meters wide, several tens of meters high.
It held seating for receiving guests, a data-processing station for his personal use, and an information terminal giving access to every known Imperial record currently on file.
The attendants moving quietly through the room were the finest servants the Word Bearers had selected from Terra, and like Space Marines across every Legion, they yearned for nothing more than a moment’s favor from their own gene-father.
Above, suspended where a ceiling might otherwise have been, hung an artificially miniaturized star.
It had been fully refitted to function as a light fixture, capable of being switched on or off at will, from anywhere in the room.
To one side sat a dedicated rack for parchment scrolls, tens of thousands of vellum sheets containing classified Imperial records shelved behind high-technology shielding, accessible to the Primarch alone.
“My lord — I hope this meets with your satisfaction,” Rockefeller said, standing at rigid attention.
“Fully functional,” Lorgar said, looking around.
“Though perhaps a touch too ornate.” “By your command.
Whenever you require it, the layout can be changed.” “I’ve seen enough.” Lorgar walked out of his own accord, his calm voice carrying beneath that divine face.
“I want to see my gene-sons train.
Take me to the training grounds.” “As you will, my lord.” Rockefeller raised the right hand and pressed it to the chest.
➤ Next: With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility