Legion Page 31

  Slau Dha nodded. He turned and walked away.

  ‘Lord Namatjira continues to plague us with demands,’ said Herzog. ‘He is becoming quite agitated. He insists that you report to him immediately and make full disclosure.’

  ‘Does he indeed?’ Alpharius replied.

  Herzog nodded. ‘He’s beginning to make veiled threats too, my lord, accusations of treason or worse. I believe we must make some kind of response before he loses all patience and embarks upon a regrettable course of action.’

  ‘We will make a response,’ said Omegon.

  Alpharius glanced at his twin.

  ‘If we are to prevail in the task ahead of us,’ said Omegon, ‘we must be secure and committed. We cannot let our hand be seen too early, or have our undertaking betrayed. Secrecy is, as always, our most potent weapon.’

  ‘Agreed,’ said Alpharius. He bowed his head, and was silent and pensive for a moment.

  ‘So?’ asked Omegon.

  Alpharius looked up him. ‘Do it,’ he said.

  ‘STILL NO RESPONSE from the primarch or any of his officers, my lord,’ announced the master of vox. ‘His barge also refuses to acknowledge our repeated hails.’

  Namatjira nodded. The bridge of the Blamires had grown increasingly quiet. The tension was palpable.

  ‘Repeat the message,’ Namatjira ordered.

  ‘Yes, my lord,’ said the master of vox.

  The Lord Commander turned to Van Aunger. ‘I’m going to withdraw to my chambers,’ he said, ‘and compose a statement of censure regarding the Astartes Alpha Legion. If we have not received a satisfactory reply by the time I’m done, you will send the statement directly to Terra.’

  ‘Yes, my lord,’ said Van Aunger.

  ‘At that time, I will issue one final notice of intent, and if it is not answered, we will begin total bombardment of the surface zone.’

  ‘Sir, I—’ Van Aunger protested.

  ‘Shut up and listen, Van Aunger!’ Namatjira growled. ‘Total bombardment of the surface zone. Furthermore, you will position appropriate heavy cruisers to challenge and cripple the battle-barge.’

  Van Aunger shook his head in dismay. ‘They are Astartes, my lord. What you’re proposing amounts to war against our own.’

  ‘The Lord Commander does not believe they are our own any more, fleet master,’ said Dinas Chayne.

  Namatjira turned to leave the bridge, but a call from the tracking officer stopped him.

  ‘Sir, the Astartes battle-barge has just slipped high anchor.’

  ‘What?’ demanded Van Aunger, hurrying to the station. ‘Show me.’

  ‘It’s coming about, sir,’ the tracking officer gabbled. ‘It’s turning in towards the fleet formation.’

  ‘Those duplicitous bastards,’ murmured Namatjira.

  ‘That’s an attack vector!’ Van Aunger cried. ‘Full shields! Battle stations!’

  ‘The barge has opened fire, sir!’ a deck officer shouted. The Cantium has taken direct hits! The Solar Wind too! It’s open to the void!’

  ‘Return fire!’ Van Aunger ordered. ‘All vessels with a viable target solution on the barge Beta fire at will!’

  ‘The carrier Loren has gone, sir! The Tancredi and the Loudon both report damage!’

  ‘It’s just one ship,’ barked Namatjira.

  ‘It’s an Astartes battle-barge, you cretin!’ Van Aunger spat at him. ‘It’s ploughing through the centre of the fleet like a hot knife!’

  The deck shook as the Blamires began to fire its primary batteries.

  ‘Eight direct hits recorded on the target vessel,’ the master of ordnance sang out.

  ‘Yes!’ crowed Namatjira, clenching a fist.

  ‘The Beta is not slowing down,’ said the tracking officer. ‘Function does not seem to have been impaired.’

  A shrill siren began to sound, slicing through the battle klaxons.

  ‘Teleport signature!’ a bridge officer howled. ‘Full spread of teleport flares throughout the midsection! We’re being boarded!’

  INTERNAL HATCHES BLEW open in a welter of flame and flying metal. Bolter rounds ripped out of the smoke choking the hallway, and cut down crew personnel as they tried to flee.

  The Astartes appeared, striding relentlessly out of the fire, their purple armour reflecting the rippling flames. Their bolters roared as they switched left and right methodically, covering every side tunnel and passageway.

  ‘Repulse! Repulse!’ shouted Major General Dev, sword in hand, trying to rally two platoons of Hort infantry. ‘Open fire!’

  The troopers began to blaze shots down the length of the hallway. Dev thought he glimpsed a purple figure staggering back, but bolt rounds seared out of the swirling smoke and destroyed two of the troopers beside him. Covered in their blood, Dev tried to pull his men back to cover. ‘Keep firing!’ he yelled. He grabbed his vox. ‘Repulse squads to decks eight and nine! Heavy weapons! We need heavy weapons!’

  They drew back along the hall, and into an assembly chamber. Bolt rounds chased them, and cut down three more men. Forty Outremar heavies were running forwards through the chamber to support them.

  ‘Up! Up! Up!’ Dev yelled. ‘Come on! Hold the fugging hatchway! Keep them back!’

  The deck shook with a series of loud blasts from somewhere below.

  ‘Give me that fugging launcher!’ Dev screamed, throwing down his sword and snatching the heavy weapon out of the hands of one of the Outremars. He began to pump rocket grenades out through the chamber hatch.

  Light blinked and flickered in the chamber behind them. Coalescing matter swirled, and twisted the eddying smoke. Six Alpha Legion Astartes materialised, their weapons firing on full auto. The major general and his men perished in seconds.

  ‘SOMETHING’S HAPPENING,’ SAID Tche urgently. ‘Something bad.’

  Honen Mu gazed up at the sky. The bright flashes and sparks beyond the cloud cover were not lightning. It was orbital fire. The fleet had engaged.

  ‘I can’t raise the carrier, or the flagship,’ the Jokers’ vox officer reported.

  ‘Keep trying,’ she ordered.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Tiphaine. ‘What’s happening up there?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Mu replied.

  Everyone winced suddenly. ’Cept pain shot through the uxor and her aides. Its iridescent rim turning slowly, the giant copper disk rose up behind the crags of the Shivering Hills, and ascended straight up into the sky. It vanished into the low cloud.

  Mu sat down on a flat block of stone. It had begun to rain, fierce and cold. She could already smell the minute change in the air. Whatever purpose the atmospheric zone had been created for was done with. It was no longer needed, and it was being allowed to dissipate. She had no idea if the process would take minutes, days or weeks, but the caustic atmosphere of 42 Hydra Tertius would flood back and restore climactic equilibrium.

  Honen Mu perceived that no one would be coming for them. The Jokers, and all the other ground assault units, would still be in the zone when the poison storms of 42 Hydra Tertius reclaimed it.

  Then other decomposing remains would be left, drowned and scattered, across the lonely cubic rocks.

  TWELVE

  Blamires, orbital

  DINAS CHAYNE PLACED a firm hand on Namatjira’s arm.

  ‘Now, my lord,’ he insisted.

  ‘No, Dinas,’ Namatjira snapped, pulling away.

  ‘The security of the flagship can no longer be guaranteed,’ said Chayne. ‘The companions must escort you to the safety of your sanctuary launch.’

  The bridge was shaking. Every man at every station was shouting above the wail of the sirens. There was a distinct smell of smoke.

  ‘Target it again!’ bellowed Namatjira. ‘Again!’

  ‘We cannot break its shields,’ Van Aunger yelled back.

  ‘We just lost the Barbustion!’ someone yelled.

  ‘The Loudon is reported as on fire and drifting!’ called another voice.

  Namatjira walked up
to Van Aunger and slapped him hard across the face. ‘Destroy that barge, you piece of shit!’

  Van Aunger recoiled, spitting blood from his lip. He balled his fist to swing back. Chayne took him by the throat. Van Aunger gagged.

  ‘You will not raise your hand to the Lord Commander,’ said Chayne. ‘Complete your orders.’

  He let go. Van Aunger fell to the deck, gasping. ‘All weapons,’ he coughed. ‘All weapons, sustained fire. Everything we’ve got, damn it, before—’

  ‘Contact!’ the tracking officer cried. ‘A second contact!’

  They stared at the jumping graphics on the main display. A vessel was shown tracking towards the rear of the fleet mass.

  ‘Where did it come from?’ Van Aunger asked.

  ‘It just appeared on the scopes, sir. It was concealed behind the planet.’

  ‘That’s another barge,’ said Van Aunger in a low voice. ‘That’s another fugging battle-barge!’

  ‘The Alpha,’ whispered Namatjira.

  ‘It has opened fire!’ the tracking officer yelled.

  ‘Now, my lord,’ said Chayne.

  This time, Namatjira allowed Chayne to lead him away.

  ‘NOISY… OUT THERE…’ Bronzi muttered through the blood oozing out of his mouth.

  ‘Shut it!’ ordered the officer of the brig. He exchanged a worried look with his two assistants in their blood-spattered aprons. The thump of explosions and the crackle of gunfire was impossible to ignore.

  Bronzi began to laugh, but it turned into a wet, ragged cough.

  ‘They’re coming… they’re coming for me, you see? I knew… I knew they would.’

  ‘Shut up!’ the officer snarled, and viciously tightened one of the cage screws. Bronzi screamed.

  He coughed out more blood. ‘My name… my name is Hurtado Bronzi…’ he wheezed. ‘That’s… that’s all you’re getting…’

  The cell door slammed open. Two figures in black bodygloves burst in. Peto Soneka shot the officer of the brig twice through the heart with his laspistol, and then pumped several more rounds into his twitching corpse. Thaner decapitated one of the assistants with an expert slice of his falx, and then drove the long blade through the other’s belly.

  He tugged the weapon out. The man collapsed.

  ‘Get him out of the restraint,’ said Soneka. Thaner started to undo the heavy clasps and bolts.

  ‘Peto?’

  ‘Hang on, Hurt. You’re a mess.’

  ‘You… came for me.’

  ‘A personal favour granted by the primarch,’ Soneka said.

  ‘You… came for me…’ Bronzi repeated.

  ‘We look after our own,’ said Thaner.

  They pulled him out of the cage. He couldn’t stand, so they carried him between them, his meaty arms, blood-soaked, around their shoulders.

  ‘Hurry,’ said Thaner.

  ‘Signal the teleport,’ said Soneka.

  Thaner nodded.

  ‘We’re going to get you out, Hurt,’ said Soneka. ‘We’ll get you to the barge and patch you up. Just hang on.’

  ‘It’s… good to see you, Peto,’ Bronzi murmured. ‘And you, Hurt.’

  ‘If it’s so good… to see me… why do you look… so fugging grim?’

  ‘Later,’ said Peto Soneka. ‘I’ll tell you later.’

  ONE END OF the flagship’s vast carrier deck was ablaze. Chayne and a squad of six Lucifer Blacks ran Namatjira through the smoke and across the wide deck space towards the armoured sanctuary launch.

  ‘Prepare for immediate departure,’ Chayne cried into his vox. The Lord Commander will be aboard in twenty seconds!’

  ‘I don’t believe he will,’ said Alpharius.

  The primarch had emerged from the dense smoke pouring down the carrier space. He stood, gladius drawn, between the companions and the launch.

  The Lucifer Blacks were armed with laspistols and sabres. Without hesitation, they rushed him, firing as they came.

  Las-rounds pinged and flashed off Alpharius’s armour. Some left scorched and dented holes. He drove in to meet the charge. One swing of his sword broke the back of the first Lucifer. Alpharius wheeled and crushed another’s skull with his left fist.

  Blades sawed at him from all sides. He blocked with his sword, and the gauntlet of his left hand. A sabre shattered. The gladius stabbed clean through the chest of a companion, and ripped free. Blood spattered out in a wide arc across the deck.

  Blocking another sword stroke with his gladius, Alpharius delivered a crushing punch with his left hand that sent one of the remaining Lucifers flying backwards. He grabbed another, and broke his neck with one twist of his armoured fingers.

  Chayne swung his sabre in, and it was barely blocked by the primarch’s sword. He altered his attack dynamic. Alpharius had to take a step backwards to defend against Chayne’s extraordinary swordsmanship. The primarch parried and thrust, but Chayne dodged the strike, and ran his sabre into Alpharius’s side. The tempered blade, as strong and sharp as any metal known to man, punched under the side of the power armour, through the segmented layering, and deep into Alpharius’s torso.

  Alpharius looked down at the wedged blade. A tiny amount of blood oozed out.

  ‘Hmh,’ he murmured. He stared at Chayne, who knew he could not pull the sword out.

  ‘That’s all you get,’ said Alpharius, and split him in half.

  Alpharius sheathed his gladius, and dragged the sabre out of his torso. He tossed it away, and walked through the litter of bodies to where Namatjira was kneeling on the deck.

  ‘Please! My lord primarch! Please, I beg you!’ Namatjira pleaded, his hands making a desperate namaste.

  Alpharius drew his boltgun.

  ‘Why?’ shrieked Namatjira. ‘Why are you doing this?’

  ‘For the Emperor,’ said Alpharius, and pulled the trigger.

  EPILOGUE

  Cabal

  THE COPPER DISH spun out through the darkest part of the void. John Grammaticus walked its silent halls for the last time.

  ‘Where are you going?’ asked Slau Dha.

  ‘Away. It’s over. I’m done.’

  ‘There will be other tasks.’

  ‘Not for me,’ said John Grammaticus.

  ‘The Cabal is grateful for your efforts,’ said Slau Dha.

  ‘I bet that was hard to say,’ Grammaticus replied, scornfully.

  He walked away from the autarch.

  ‘You were successful, mon-keigh,’ said the eldar lord. ‘Why do you not seem satisfied?’

  ‘Because of the measure of my success,’ said Grammaticus. ‘I successfully signed the death notice of the human race.’

  ‘John?’ Slau Dha called out. ‘You are heading in the direction of the external hatches. John?’

  John Grammaticus ignored him and kept walking. He felt he deserved it.

  It wouldn’t be his first death, but he hoped it would be his last.