The Gorgon, Primarch Ferrus Manus, father of the Iron Hands Legion and direct descendant of the Emperor of Mankind himself stood with his Morlock bodyguards and surveyed the devastation around them with disgust. Xenos and Iron Hands bodies were strewn about in all directions, for as far as the eye could see. Making a quick count, the Gorgon spoke: 'Only ten Orks carcasses for each of my sons, a pitiful ratio. Ungavarr’s Iron Father shall answer to me personally for this outrage!'
'He no longer lives Sire, reports were all Ungavarr forces in this sector were lost.' Replied one of his terminator bodyguards.
'Fitting.' is all Ferrus Manus replied.
'Look, their banner still stands sire.' Pointing to where the Orks were piled the highest, the tattered Clan Ungavarr battle standard could be seen. Quickly making their way across the field of carnage, the Gorgon and his terminators came upon a the ruin of a marine. Slumped against a redoubt, a bolter still clutched in his right hand, the Ungavarr standard in the crook of his left arm, just above the bloody stump where his bionic hand should have been. His left leg was severed as well, just below the knee and there was a savage wound where his right eye had been.
'My apologies father, for I cannot stand…blood loss I think.'
'Identify yourself my son.' Spoke the Gorgon.
'Asirnoth, 14th…tactical brother, 24th squad, 9th line company, Clan…Ungavarr.'
In a very rare moment of mirth, the Gorgon smiled and quipped. 'Asirnoth? Yes, I see the resemblance.' Turning quickly to his retinue the Gorgon issued his commands 'Summon the apothecaries to rebuild this man! Collect the standard, so that upon its cleansing and repair, it shall be returned to Clan Ungavarr’s Standard Bearer.'
Taking the banner a Morlock replied 'but the standard bearer has fallen sire…'
Turning towards the marine before him, Ferrus Manus replied 'No, no he has not.'
With blood bubbling from between his lips, Asirnoth smiled.
Aboard the battleship Alpha, alone in the docking bay Omegon waited as the ramp descended from the Storm Eagle gunship before him. On the world of Istvaan IV below, the treacherous nightmare of history was playing out but this…this might worth the momentary distraction of one of the Alpha Legion’s primarchs.
Down the ramp came a what struck the Omegon as a hissing, clanking parody of an Astartes. Clad in battle-scarred and bloodied but still magnificent artificer armor, and festooned with an abundance of bionic implants that only a son of Ferrus Manus could take pride in, strode an Iron Hand Legionaire.
'And who were you when we last met?' asked Omegon.
'Operative 568435, extracted per your signal Sire.' replied the Iron Hand.
'Deployed more than a decade ago…and whom do I see before me now?' inquired the Primarch.
Standing at rigid attention the Iron Hand replied: 'Clan Color Sergeant Asniroth, the right hand of Iron Father Isador, Headquarters Company, Clan Ungavarr, Iron Hands Legion. I bring you information straight from the highest levels of Ferrus Manus’ war councils as well as my personal gift to you My Lord.' Lowering his head and bending down to one knee, Asniroth unfurled Clan Ungavarr’s Battle Standard for his Primarch.
Omegon replied 'My brother Ferrus Manus is dead, or so I've heard'.
Raising his head to look up at the god of war before him, Asirnoth simply nodded 'Yes my Lord, I was there.'
Examining the Iron Hand's Clan Standard, a humorless grin slowly spread across the face of the Emperor’s least known son...