All the High Lords of Terra were there (Aside from the Grand Master of the Officio Assassinorum who had gone missing a month before), and all of them were mute, and looking extremely world weary. Occasionally, outside, a loud screaming noise sounding like an escaped banshee from the warp sounded, managing to pierce the walls of the Imperial Palace somehow. Master of the Administratum Vorenus mutely wondered if these were errant ships that tried to guide themselves through the warp ramming into the planet.
"Hey, is this Ultramar? Dude, heya- what, you never heard of a call before? Y'know, two people talkin' in the same room- Astronomicon? No way man, nuh-uh, do NOT talk to me about that dude, that is BAD. NEWS. Oh, you're not on Ultramar? I don't give a shit if your battlebarge is about to plow into Isaac Asimov, just- just- Oh hey, you're breaking up. Oh. Uh huh. Well alright man, I'm on Terra, I'll go check the," The God Emperor of Mankind looked up at the High Lords of Terra, and with a smile, mouthed emphatically, " 'ASTRA TELEPATHICA'" The Emperor then proceeded to cover the phone, and mouthed, carefully the word 'dumbass' to the assembled.
The Master of the Adeptus Astra Telepathica began weeping.
"So yeah, no, just leave a message for Roboute, Roboute Guilliman- crazy name, I know- Oh you know the guy! Swee- Wait, hang on. Hang on. Dude. No. Way. Oh. Oh man, that's so sad. Alright, well, peace."
As the man on the other end of the line screamed for help, the Emperor ruefully shook his head, and pressed a button to end the call, "Dude, guys Roboute Guilliman-"
"Is in stasis, suffering from mortal wounds from which there is no known cure," Said everyone else in chorus.
The Emperor stared, taken aback, "Wow, total hive mind there guys, heh," He shook his head, reaching for another page in his list of contacts, "Maybe the NIDS ARE ALREADY AMONG US."
The Emperor's joke, once again, failed to impress.