"Everything is in place, my liege. The warmaster has given the signal." The warrior was clad the colors of Enoch's own legion, but Enoch's small cadre knew this stranger was not a true son of the primarch.
"No. We had a plan. This was not part of the plan," Enoch chewed his knuckle nervously, as nervously as an immortal son of the Emperor could, anyway. "The artillery, that a was precautionary measure. A last resort."
"The warmaster has spoken, my liege. The time is now!"
"No! I can parley with them, I can show them the error in their ways, they'll see! I'll make them see!"
"I speak for the warmaster, Enoch! It is an ORDER!"
Enoch glowered at the liason. "You are not the warmaster, nor would obey that order even if you were."
The confrontation was interrupted by the sudden silence of the crowd, and Enoch's attention was drawn back to the arena. He smelled blood.Far too much of it.
"No... No! Zaul, keep an your watch on this meddling spy. The Judgement Bringers will not fire a single round until I give the command." Enoch jumped down into the arena where he could hear what could only be the insane cries of Garmon, and the shocked and confused shouting of the rest of the arena. He walked toward the action but with mere seconds gone by, Enoch heard a sound that made him tremble. The unmistakable whine of dozens of incoming whirlwind missiles. He trembled and shook in his rage, at the insult the warmaster had smacked across his face, and the pitiful waste of astartes life that was fractions of seconds away, at the insubordination of his sons. Before he could mutter a word, everything was deafened and loyal marines were being tossed about like children's toys. The earth literally shook and heaved under the abuse of the Judgement Bringers, true to their namesake and masters at their craft. And through the barrage came striding, resplendent in his hatred, glorious in his fury, the Emperor's Storm. Engerand.