Rise of the Tau

[Razor Devil]

Part Twenty-Two.

Titans.


The Ancient’s hearts missed a beat as he witnessed the charge of the Banner Guard if through the eyes of another, his body frozen as it was in horrified shock.

The thing that was Guilliman stood before them, colossal and unafraid. Where there should have been rage or hatred or any other glimmer of emotion upon that face so revered, there was none.

The warriors of the Banner Guard fell in silence, scattered like so much flotsam before the storm of the Primarch, his huge sword rising and falling without counter.

He looked on as Guilliman lifted one of the Guard, brother Semion, high above his head and flung him into the burning shell of a Basilisk without effort, the thick metal bending around his armoured form as he slammed into it like a bullet.

His black eyes turned to Ventris and he grew cold, as if he had been sucked bodily into the endless void.
‘Ancient. It is your time.’

Ventris drew the banner pole close to his chest, the ancient cloth above him writhing in the breeze. His scarred face twisted with emotion, a mixture of pain and agonised revulsion.

‘The father of Ultramar is dead, imposter. I see that now. You are an affront, betrayal forged in the Primarch’s likeness, nothing more. I will honour the legacy of Roboute Guilliman by ending your existence.’

Guilliman swept the Sword of Ultramar before him and cut the warrior rising at his feet in two, sending his bisected body rolling away. His advance was one of measured confidence, his stride long and slow as if there were no other living creatures on the surface of Gehenna except him and the Ancient.

‘This galaxy will unify under one banner, traitor. The Ethereals have opened my eyes to the horrors that are to come. You will stand with us or you will fall at my feet. There can be no other way.’

Ventris shook himself and stepped forward, ignoring Guilliman’s corrupt ramblings. To even suggest that the Primarch would serve a xenos master was a crime akin to renouncing the Emperor himself.

‘Enough heresy! This ends now!’

The ground shook beneath the advance of the Titans of Gigas Passus as the two warriors prepared to meet, the Ancient tense and unsure, the Primarch bold and indomitable. Columns of searing fire lit the skies from end to end, the noise rising to unbearable levels.

Above him, not a single inch of the Gehennan skies remained.

‘For the Emperor and for Ultramar.’ He whispered.

And charged.

The Primarch filled his vision for little more than a fleeting second, growing and growing until all that could be seen was that familiar and revered face, now more alien and unknowable than it had ever been in death.

He raised his arms and lunged, bringing the golden rod forward like a spear.

Guilliman’s expression never once altered as he shifted away from the lunge and grabbed the banner pole, his grip like that of some vengeful god. He threw his sword to the ground and thrust his arm forward. Fingers of adamantium closed around Uriel’s neck and he gasped, unable to draw breath.

‘The crimes of Horus replayed again. A son’s betrayal of his father.’ The Primarch uttered, drawing the struggling warrior closer.

‘I will brook no such treachery from you.’

There was a flash of movement and a lightning strike of fierce pain and he found himself drawn across Guilliman’s knee, falling with all the force of a descending lance strike.

‘As I break you, so will I break the back of your treacherous Imperium.’

He fell to the floor, a mess of splayed limbs. The Primarch appeared, towering over him, an avatar of destruction. He raised the standard and slammed the pole through the Ancient’s chest with such power that it embedded itself in the earth beneath him.

Ancient Ventris stared up into the burning sky, unable to stand or defend himself. The face of the Primarch stared down at him, cold as the grave, an entity of clear, inconceivable malice.

Beyond the Primarch he could see the first of the towering Titans as they drew nearer, each mighty footfall jarring his vision. Beyond that, the innumerable fliers and vast ships of the Unity, blocking out the sun as they descended.

And beyond…only eternity.

‘Imposter!’

Guillman turned as he heard the voice, his expression ever unchanging. Galthor the Champion bounded past him to stand over the fallen Ancient, reaching down to retrieve his commander’s chainsword.

‘Stand down, pretender.’ He growled, activating the blade.

Guilliman regarded the warrior with scornful eyes, the merest flicker of emotion that soon faded to nothing once again.

Galthor’s armour was split and buckled in a dozen places. His left arm hung limp by his side, the bones shattered to fragments beneath his armour. He was swaying, clearly struggling to stay on his feet. He wheezed as he drew breath, his fused ribs smashed.

‘Take him. Take him and go.’

The Primarch opened his mouth to answer and then paused, movement catching his eye. Two of the surviving Banner Guard limped past him and grabbed the fallen Ancient. One pulled the standard from his chest while the other took him beneath the arms and hauled him to his feet.
Seeing this, Guilliman smiled.

‘Pathetic to the end. It sickens me to see you wearing the armour of the Astartes. I see before me the sickness that has taken hold of the Imperium in my absence. A sickness that can only be purged by the guidance of the Unity.’

Galthor did not answer.

‘No!’ Ventris roared, watching as the Champion lunged, his own screaming sword held aloft. He struggled to free himself from the grip of his two wards in vain.

‘Let go of me! I command you to release me! It should be me! It should be me!’

There was a scream of engines and he fell silent, the two warriors carrying him slowing. Shadows began to descend all around him, the dry earth swirling beneath the downdrafts of more than a dozen craft.

Land Speeders bearing the insignia of both the White Scars and the Ravenwing came to rest around him, their collective roar drowning out the sounds of the war for a fleeting moment. Marines disembarked in silent, practised formation, quickly flooding the space around him.
Around the vehicles a rain of silver armour fell to earth on wings of fire, warrior women of the Adepta Sororitas.

‘Lord Ventris.’ One of the Marines began, leaping down from the ornate speeder before him. The Marine’s armour was a deep black tinged with green and partially covered with long ivory robes. On one shoulder he bore the insignia of the Alliance Imperialis Solar, the other an ivory wing struck through with a sword.

‘Captain Ornion. I must be released…’

The warrior shook his head slowly, his eyes regarding the scene before him with a grim apprehension.
‘No, Ancient. The orders are from the Warmaster himself. We are to bring you back.’

He was about to argue when he felt a hand against his shoulder, soft and yet alive with underlying power.

He lifted his face to see the gaze of the Endymion, her porcelain features softly glowing with an ethereal light.

‘Return.’ She uttered, her soft voice filling his mind. ‘For you, this battle is over, brave warrior. Rest now.’

These were the last two words Ventris heard on Gehenna.

+++

Galthor attacked, bringing the chainsword down at an angle towards the Primarch’s head. Guilliman tuned the blade away with ease and countered, returning with a blow that would have cleaved the Champion in two had he not thrown himself back. The Sword of Ultramar swept by his waist and then rose, coming down at his head almost faster than he could follow.
He lifted the chainsword and deflected the strike, spinning to attack again. Guilliman blocked the swing and lashed out with his boot, kicking the warrior off his feet.

The Champion lurched back, rolling onto his feet once again, almost torn in two by the strike.

‘Forgive me, Primarch.’ He whispered, stepping forward, the blade in his hand screaming.

‘Only in death.’ Guilliman answered, decapitating the warrior with a single swing.

The Champion fell forward onto the floor, his defiant challenge ended. The Primarch stepped forward and raised his eyes of the carnage about him, the shadow of the Imperial Titans falling over him.

‘Heretic! B-----d son!’

He reeled, countering the blow at the very last second. The flaming sword rang as it deflected off the blade of his own, flames washing over his armour.

Wings of pure white filled his vision as the Endymion landed before him, her silvered form mirroring the flames surrounding them. Two shining eyes regarded him with utter hatred as the Seraphim landed all around him, weapons ready.

‘Sororitas.’ He hissed, taking on an aggressive stance. ‘So, there is truly no end to the treachery of the new Imperium. I see now how far my father’s realm has fallen from His grasp. I will scourge and remake this kingdom one world at a time if I have to.’

Saint Cloelia did not answer at first. Her blazing eyes regarded the fallen Primarch with a knowing sadness, a realisation only she could truly understand.

‘For a true son to have fallen so far to corruption is a tragedy, firstborn one. You of all the Emperor’s sons should have learned from the mistakes of the past. I see the truth behind the lie of your existence, for my eyes shine with the light of the Emperor. I cannot allow another Horus to leave this planet alive.’

Guilliman froze. A terrible rage burned in his obsidian eyes, an anger so deep and all-consuming the Saint herself shuddered to look upon it.

‘Horus.’ He whispered, his voice deepening, changing beyond all recognition. ‘You will burn for that insult, gue’la kre. You will all burn.’

With that he turned his eyes to the sky and lifted his arms, his face shaking with an indomitable rage.

‘Execute the Mont’ka! Kill them all! Wipe this planet clean!’

Overhead, the darkening skies rumbled.

[Razor Devil]

Part Twenty-Three.

The Fall of Gehenna.


The skies themselves shook with the wrath of the Unity. Huge areas of the firmament above darkened and sagged as the ships of the Mont’ka Kor’vattra descended, laying waste to everything beneath them. Tau battlesuits, drones and fighter craft saturated the skies around them, so numerous in quantity it was as if the air was a solid mass.

Bright lances of burning energy divided the world from horizon to horizon, cutting through the drifting smoke banks as they hunted their distant targets. Swarms of pulse fire zipped through the endless explosions, and death could be seen in every direction.

Captain Orneon of the Ravenwing ran his gaze over the all-encompassing forces of the enemy and knew then with utter certainty that Gehenna was lost. There were too many.

He banked sharply, passing between the legs of an Emperor-class, its indomitable advance shaking the ground, each footfall a peal of seismic thunder that crushed or toppled entire streets as it touched down.

A quick rise and then a jink, throwing him and the rest of the pursuing Land Speeders out of the path of a brace of jogging Warhounds, their hunched bipedal bodies rising and falling as they hunted in the shadow of the lumbering colossus.

The Ancient was still unconscious beside him; his armoured form slumped against the mag-clamp restraints of the gunner’s seat. Whatever the Saint had done to him, it seemed she had made sure that he would not be awake to see the fall of Gehenna.

‘Curnian, raise the Warmaster. Inform him that we have the Ancient and are heading back as ordered.’ He voxed, descending sharply to race through the burning streets, wary of the hunting Dominators prowling the stone hab-blocks to the southeast.

A shadow fell over his right side and he turned to see the speeding dirty white streak of Gohlgis’ Speeder pulling alongside him.

The White Scar captain’s long grey beard and scalp lock thrashed in the wind, his ancient eyes tight and thirsty for retribution, his face almost hidden amongst the thick fur of the pelt he wore at his back.

‘Captain…’

‘My warriors and I wish to fight, Dark Angel. Too long have we fled like dogs before the tau. It is our time to honour Jaghatai, with our deaths if need be.’

Orneon held the warrior’s gaze for a lingering moment, searching the White Scar’s lined face for any sign of pause or vacillation. There was none.

‘No Astarte is expendable in this war, son of the Khan. You must not let pride override reason.’

The two speeding craft parted swiftly as a burning Factory Ship cleaved between them, thick black smoke obscuring everything for a moment. No sooner had they passed the wreck than the White Scar skimmer speared through the choking fumes and fell in alongside the Ravenwing Speeder once again.

‘The Unity burned Chogoris to try and keep her warriors from entering this war, Orneon. The sons of Jaghatai Khan are honour bound to collect their payment of blood. This is as good a theatre of war to die with our armour stained with tau blood as any.’

‘The Warmaster’s orders…’

‘Calgar will be told we died a good death. Every one of my warriors will fall with a hundred tau corpses littered about their feet. No son of Chogoris would allow himself to die unless this is so. It is our time.’

Orneon turned away, unable to find the answer to this. He knew better than to try and reason with the feral warrior and his kin.

‘As you wish, Gohlgis. I will inform the Warmaster of your decision.’

The White Scar captain raised his head and nodded, satisfied. He turned to speak to the pilot beside him and then to Orneon once more, raising the ornate curved tulwar he held above his head in salute.

‘Then it is time to enter legend. Win this war, Dark Angel. Honour our memory.’

Orneon thrust his fist in the air in answer, saluting his brother captain.

‘Die well brother, in the name of the Khan.’

‘Find victory brother, in the name of the Lion.’ The warrior answered.

With that he turned to the squadron of speeding White Scar craft behind him and raised his sword once again.

‘For the Khan and the Emperor!’ He roared, and was gone.

The war cry echoed in Orneon’s ears long after.

+++

The war cry of the massed Sororitas was a single shuddering scream, a keening, piercing howl that carried over the battle-tumult. Bolters barked and flared a staccato strobe-storm. Promethium flame gouted in mighty burning arcs. Meltabeams flashed the air itself to superheated molecules, searing anything they touched to nothing.

The Endymion and her sisters attacked with all the force and fury of the mightiest tempest.
They were dead the moment they laid eyes on the fallen Primarch and his xenos allies.

The light of the suns above faded to dusk as the XV-00 Dominator cadre descended to meet them, a wall of armour stretching as far as the eye could see, jump-jets screaming. The first suit touched down and the ground beneath its feet shook, sending entire squads of Sororitas tumbling to the floor. As the first bolt pistols opened up in answer the first sisters began to die, scythed from their feet by the whining pulse chain-cannons of the towering warriors. The air turned to red mist within the first few seconds of the Dominators’ arrival, even power armour not proof enough against the guns of the enemy.

The ten armoured giants rocked beneath the combined Sororitas guns, almost consumed by the blossoming fire. One of the suits stomped forward and staggered, its barrel chest turning to steam and molten metal beneath the touch of a hunting meltabeam. Bright blue energy flashed and sparked around it as the suit’s inbuilt field overloaded again and again, unable to cope with the powerful blast. The Dominator shuddered, finally undone, as the beam lanced through its bulk and cut it in two.

The victorious Sister never had the chance to rejoice in her success. Another of the colossi swung its leg and punted her out into the swirling melee beyond, the blow breaking her apart.

The Seraphim were as flies buzzing about the heads of gods. The massive Dominators swung their mighty arms about them, multiple weapons systems punching bodies from the air wherever they turned.

Guilliman saw all this and smiled.

‘Monster.’ The Saint spat, her porcelain features darkening empathically. The flaming sword in her hand seemed to flare brighter at her rage.

‘Are you so condemned, First Son? Have you forsaken the Father so completely? Perhaps it is better that I end the torment of your existence for all time.’

‘Woman.’ Guilliman answered, his voice deeper and more timeless than the slow dance of the heavens themselves.

‘That the integrity of the Father’s Imperium is protected by an army of women speaks volumes of its decline. My heart bleeds for the sons of Ultramar, my sons, left to fester and spoil in my absence. I will avenge their memory, sow, and I will paint this soil with your blood.’

‘Then I will be martyred for my god.’ She replied, the glowing corona about her head changing to a rich red glow.

‘Stupid, wayward witch.’ Guilliman spat. ‘The Emperor is no god. When I have finished with you I will have an audience with my father and I will bring him to task for the ruin that has befallen this kingdom.’

The saint said no more. A burning anger twisted her features and she charged, ethereal power igniting about her.

The Endymion was a living Saint, a miracle of the Emperor. She could burn the heretic with but a gaze, could bend adamantium with her bare hands and purge the sin from a man with nought but a word from her holy lips.

The Primarch tore her apart without a thought.

‘Hold! It is done.’

The huge shadows slowed, falling over the bloodied face of the Saint. The huge Dominators froze at Guilliman’s word, almost as if physically compelled to obey the Primarch’s every command.

The bodies of the Seraphim were strewn about the feet of the towering battlesuits, littering the ground in all directions, broken and torn to less than bloodied meat.

The Endymion lay sprawled on her back where the Primarch had cast her aside, her white wings broken and torn, her silvered armour rent in a dozen places. Witchlight flickered about her pale face, sputtering and dying like the flame of a spent candle. Saint Cloelia was undone.

Guilliman deactivated the huge sword in his hand, cleaned its blade on the edges of his cloak and then sheathed it, confident in his victory over the Sororitas warriors. His expression remained unchanged as he walked over to the dying female, his stride one of assurance and resolute poise.

He picked his way through the waiting giants and lowered himself before the Saint, casting a shadow over her prone, bleeding form.

‘It is done, false saint. Let the light fade from your eyes now. Let the heresy end. Your misguided cause is lost.’

He raised a hand to the chaos about him, as if to offer the image to the dying woman.

‘This world is ours. Gehenna has fallen to the rightful power of the Unity. The last bastion of the sick Imperium before the borders of the Segmentum Solar, and she is ours. I rejoice that we are so near to our goal. Know that, as the life fades from your body. We have won.’

The Primarch’s lips spread in a wide grin, revealing perfect teeth beneath. He awaited the dying woman’s reply, though when it finally came, the victorious grin soon faded.

‘Poor, misguided fool. Can you not see what has become of you? Can you not see how far you have fallen? My death is of no consequence; I am but a tool, a weapon. My passing shall have no bearing on the outcome of this war, only my actions. I have played my part. I am here, am I not?’

Guilliman’s face tightened as he heard this, rage reddening his taut skin.

‘It is over. Let your life slip away…’

‘Not yet.’ She whispered, raising a hand to his face. The Primarch recoiled instinctively, retreating from the woman’s touch.

‘You still fear me?’

‘I never did.’ He snarled, his fingers curling around the Saint’s hand. She writhed at his touch, pain contorting her features. He took a moment to savour the woman’s pain. An arrogant mistake.

‘The Prophet.’ The Endymion whispered, so softly as to be almost unheard.

‘What? What did you say?’

‘I leave this legacy.’ She uttered, the fingers of her other hand pressing against the Primarch’s temple.

Guilliman shuddered and arched back, though he found himself suddenly unable to break free of her grip. A burning glow radiated from her palm, a searing light that scorched the Primarch’s skin and turned it to blister.

‘Know…’ The Saint uttered, her armoured fingers seeming to sink into the Primarch’s flesh. ‘Know the truth. See the lie within. If only for the briefest of moments, doubt.

‘He is coming, Primarch. See it as I have seen it. He is coming for you.’
Guilliman tore the Saint’s grasp away and put his fist through her lily-white face, causing the blessed woman to spasm and die beneath him.

‘Raze this world!’ He roared, rising to his feet, his arms spread wide. ‘Raze this damned world to ashes! Let all know the futility of standing against the Unity! Let the borders of the Imperium retreat further! Terra will be ours! The seat of my damned father will be mine!’

Roboute Guilliman screamed with unfettered rage as the skies above him roiled, choked with the innumerable craft of the Unity. Gehenna was lost, the last bastion of the outer territories. The borders of the Segmentum Solar lay beyond, laid bare before the advance of the Unity. The last boundary, ready to be crossed.

The Primarch turned away and strode out into the burning conflict beyond, tall and proud and impervious.

The single tear that ran down his regal cheek fell unnoticed.

[Razor Devil]

You want more?

(Sorry for not posting, I forgot.)

[Calif]

Ofcourse, atleast I want more of this interesting story

Cheers

[Tanith Ghost]

Very very intruiging read. More will be better though.

[Razor Devil]

Part Twenty-Four.

Epiphany.


+++PROSCRIPTUS REX+++
+++THE MASSCIL ASTEROID WASTES+++
+++SEGMENTUM SOLAR+++


‘Impossible.’

The rest of the gathering remained silent despite Berolinus’s protests. All eyes hovered uneasily upon the Chaplain standing before them.

‘Not impossible. Fact.’ Codian answered, resolute and unyielding. ‘There is no mistake. Terra is inaccessible. I have studied the charts myself, and they are here before you should any wish to question my observations.

‘We cannot hope to reach Terra unscathed. Even now the Unity move into the outer reaches of the Segmentum Solar. The corona worlds will already have fallen, that much is cold, hard fact. The inq…’

He paused for a moment and then continued.

‘The commander of this ship has revealed to me many truths about the current situation here in this galaxy.’

He nodded to Andrasi and the Rogue Trader activated a small hololith projector. A blue-tinged map of the galactic plane expanded out into the half light. A small red rune blinked to show their position. Other, larger runes were spread across the map like an infection, showing the postulated positions of the enemy fleets.

‘With Ryza gone the Tau hold the entire eastern fringe of the Segmentum. There is nothing between here and Terra but Tau. To access the seat of our Emperor we would have to journey north from here, skim the southern edges of the Segmentum Obscurus, pass beneath Fenris and then between Stygies and Yarrick. Intelligence suggests that this area holds a narrow window of opportunity.

‘The Leviathan fleet holds the space around Cadia, though the region between the bastion world and the Terran system is left open, unguarded. It is clear that the Tau see this region of space as safe, and that they can imagine no attempts to bridge the gap between Terra and Cadia. With Prometheus advancing further and further north upon Terra, any attempt to retake Cadia would sign the Imperium’s death warrant.’

The gathered Astartes considered Codian’s words in silence, lost in thought. None of them had expected the way forward to be an easy one and yet, it seemed, everywhere they turned, the path to the Emperor grew ever more treacherous.

Umbras rose from his seat and made his way over to the hovering map, causing the image to stutter and jump slightly as he ran an armoured finger over the area of space in question.

‘What do we know of the status of the worlds here in this sector, Chaplain? What of Fenris, the homeworld of the Wolves? Does she still stand?’
Codian shook his head sadly.

‘Fenris is lost, Apothecary. It would seem no one knows the eventual fate of the Wolves.’

Umbras nodded soberly.

‘I see. What of these two worlds, Yarrick and Stygies?’

Unable to answer, Codian turned to Ligur, the Deathwatch Librarian.

‘Hnn. Yarrick is the world you would have known as Armageddon. Not even the Tau seek to conquer that hell-hole. You will find nothing there except death and ruination.’

‘And what of Stygies, Librarian? Does she survive?’

‘She does, in a fashion. The priests of Stygies went mad after the fall of Mars. The world is no more than a locked-down bastion of the Mechanicus, so jealously defended that even the loyalist forces would be aggressively engaged should they attempt an approach. Stygies survives yet, though in truth she is as lost to us as any of the other worlds.’

Without a word, Umbras returned to his seat, a visible sadness in his eyes. Codian watched his return for a moment and then spoke once more.

‘Then we are alone on this leg of our journey. So be it, this will be our trial. There may well be scattered worlds or outposts still loyal to us in this region of space. If we come across such colonies then we can petition their aid, perhaps even recruit their craft and warriors. Only time will tell.’

‘Then it is our destiny to deliver this ‘Caesus’ to the Warmaster on Terra.’ Berolinus cut in, rising to his feet.

‘That we should risk all to achieve this disquiets me, given that we know nothing of its intended function. Tell us, Chaplain, what does this device actually do?’

‘I do not know, brother. I have never once questioned its purpose.’

‘Ridiculous! How can we fight with any amount of conviction to complete a mission we don not even understand? This is…’

‘Necessary.’

Berolinus fell silent and turned to the hulking form of Laenar, the Techmarine. In the many weeks that had passed since Ryza, Laenar had become more and more enigmatic, a silent, brooding figure hardly ever given over to communication. That he had chosen to speak at all was enough to silence the young Astarte.

‘There are few indeed who know the true purpose of the Caesus. To allow the knowledge of its function to spread through our ranks would be to invite catastrophic failure. It is not an issue of trust, young Berolinus, but an action of necessity.
Should any one of us be captured by the Unity, they would be sure to extract the information from us by whatever means they could. We cannot divulge that which we do not know.’

‘And what of you, brother?’ Berolinus spat, accenting the final word bitterly. ‘If no one’s integrity can be trusted, what is to prevent you fr…’

‘My life, brother. I am unable to reveal such information either willingly or under duress, the Ryzan priest made sure of that. There is installed in my brain a cyanide capsule that may either be triggered by my own conscious thought or automatically should I even attempt to explain the nature of the Caesus. You see, I cannot betray this mission if I wanted to. To attempt to do so would mean my death.’

Berolinus hissed through bared teeth and sat back down, his eyes radiating hostility. Codian wished he had the means and the time to temper the young Astarte’s spirit, but even he had to admit that he sympathised with the warrior.

Umbras placed a fatherly hand upon the Marine’s shoulder and then turned his attention to the Chaplain.

‘So, do we have a definitive plan?’

‘Reach our destination.’ Was all Codian could reply.

+++

The soothing sounds of the hymnal drifted through the close air of the chapel, creating a warm blanket of peace that wrapped itself around the shoulders of the praying Chaplain.

He opened his eyes and looked up at the golden effigy of the Emperor Immortal standing above him, His powerful hands locked around the hilt of His sword.

‘My father, steel my thoughts.’ He whispered, reaching up to touch the idol gently. ‘Deliver us from the clutches of the enemy on this, our most important journey. Stay the hand and avert the eye of the enemy long enough so that we may complete this mission. Give us the strength to restore your Imperium for all time, so that no other enemy may ever again threaten its borders.

‘Once before you have delivered me from death, so that I may undertake this task. I ask of you again. let your shield guard me and your sword bolster me, so that I may die knowing I have fulfilled your task.’

He bowed his head slowly and then looked up at the idol once more, placing both his bolt pistol and his crozius on the ground before the plinth.

‘So it is that I offer all that I am to you, my father. While ever there is life in your ancient form, I know you can hear my prayers. I know your all-powerful mind and spirit is able to reach to the furthest corners of your rightful domain. Here me thus, then, as I make my pledge before you as an Astarte should.

‘I, Daelo Codian, Ultramarine Chaplain, swear to you that I shall do all I can to succeed. My final breath shall be drawn only when I stand upon the same soil as the Emperor of all mankind.’

He found himself staring into the eyes of the Emperor then, transfixed by the golden orbs. His own words seemed to echo through his mind, over and over again.

I, Daelo Codian…I, Daelo Codian…

The golden statue seemed to glow brighter, the light glinting across its polished surface intensifying. It became apparent to Codian that he should find the sudden strange phenomenon disturbing, and yet he did not. He felt neither panic nor apprehension as he suddenly realised he could not move.

Daelo Codian…Daelo Codian…

He felt himself falling slowly backwards as the statue was enveloped in a blinding golden-white glow, more brilliant and intense than any he had ever experienced yet not so harsh as to cause discomfort to his eyes.

It was as if he was immersed in warm, viscous liquid, as time seemed to slow about him and he felt the ground beneath his back and his arms fall by his sides, outstretched and splayed. The entire chapel disappeared as the light spread, resonating with a sound like the song of a million-strong Ecclesiarch choir. The voice in his head was no longer his but female, quiet and yet more intense than any he had ever heard.

Daelo Codian, Prophet, I have seen him…He is coming…

Prophet, Chaplain…

‘Chaplain! Can you hear me?’

He opened his eyes to see Umbras kneeling over him, concern heavy on his face. Motion returned to his limbs and he sat up sharply, awash with confusion.

‘What…what is this? What has happened?’

‘The spike.’ Ligur growled, and Codian saw a gnarled face awash with blood. Even the Librarian’s eyes were crimson and bloodshot, the vessels burst. His psychic hood smouldered and sparked, almost ruined.

‘I…I have never felt anything like it. Every single one of us onboard this vessel were floored by it. Emperor, what was that?’

As he hauled himself up onto his feet he became aware of the alarms, hundreds of them, all screaming in post warning.

‘I…I felt something. I heard my name.’

‘At first we suspected the Nicassar, but this was different.’ Ligur continued, ignoring his claims. ‘The only way I could possibly describe it would be that it felt like the most powerful transmitted astropathic message I have ever known. Servitors the length of the ship began to babble and speak in tongues. The Gellar field almost came online of its own accord. The Astropaths are still senseless. They speak of rapture, of the hand of god. They say…they say the Astronomicon spoke to them.’

‘An impossible notion.’ Codian said abruptly.

‘I agree. Nonetheless, every last one of them still able to speak said the same thing. The Astronomicon itself spoke to them.’

‘And what did it say?’

Ligur shifted at that, the expression on his face a mixture of confusion and rejection.

‘The same message. The servitors, the Astropaths, even a good few of the ship’s crew. A voice, both male and female, powerful and ageless. It was a message.’

‘Tell me what they said, Ligur.’

‘Awaken. Awaken and arise. He has come. The Prophet is among us.’

Codian pushed past the Librarian and propped himself up against the bulkhead, the colour draining from his face. He experienced a feeling he had not felt in an age. Nausea.

‘Chaplain?’

He could not answer. Daelo Codian was a Chaplain of the Astartes, a son of the Emperor Himself. He knew that the Emperor was no god. He was, without doubt, the greatest and most powerful man ever to have lived, but he was no god.

Why then, in spite of this philosophy, did he feel as if the hand of the divine had touched him? It had been a caress more beautiful and terrible than any he could ever have imagined and yet, despite the subject of the message, it had not been for him.

It was a call to war.

[Razor Devil]

Part Twenty-Five.

Hunters Returned, Vanphilos.


‘Damned bloody Screamers! Wherever you turn they are waiting!’ Grungi roared, tearing his flight jacket from his shoulders.

Codian looked on as the Demiurg proceeded to cast the jacket aside and then let his augmetic fist fall to the floor with a dull thump, its retractable chain rattling as it followed.

A terrible feeling of impending trepidation settled over his mind.

It had taken them two weeks to reach the edges of the border between the two Segmentum, only to find themselves stumbling into the path of a Nicassar Hunter Armada. Now, again, they were fleeing for their lives.

‘Look lively, stalk-leg.’ Grungi growled, shaking him from his reverie. Codian frowned, donned his skull-face helm and locked it in place, the sealing clamps hissing as they connected.

‘Very intimidating.’ The Demiurg smiled, sweeping his long red dreadlocks up over his face. ‘Let us hope the Screamers chasing us are a particularly anxious strain.’

‘If not then they will learn to be so.’ Codian answered, activating his crozius. ‘It is our duty to teach them the meaning of fear.’

Grungi watched as several of the Deathwatch jogged past, bolters held ready at their chests. Codian ignored the warriors as he took up an aggressive stance, the glowing eyes of his helm slowly surveying all around him.

‘Hnn. You are wasting your time, Imperial. There will be no Nicassar stepping out of the air to shred our minds on board this vessel. This is an Inquisition ship.’

‘Explain.’ Codian answered, turning his gaze toward the short humanoid before him. Grungi responded with a look of bemusement before he spoke.

‘Blessed ancestors, don’t you know anything about your own organisation? This is a black ship, an Inquisition barge. It has null-fields so strong you can barely access your own memories without a struggle. Not even the Screamers can get inside this tub. No, if we can’t outrun these b-----ds then we’ll see boarding action, sure as sure. I hope they are stupid enough to try. By the time they realise that they can’t call upon the powers of the warp in here I will have slaughtered myself a good many of them. I would ready my crackle-stick if I were you.’

He pushed past the Demiurg and made his way towards the bridge, drawing and arming his bolt pistol as he did so. Anxious deckhands sprinted past in squads, their armoured boots ringing on the deck. He slowed as he recognised one of the faces amongst the gathered throng.

‘Andrasi!’

The Rogue Trader slowed as he laid eyes on the towering Astarte.

‘Chaplain! Blessed firmament, the Nicassar have found us!’

‘I know, Captain Andrasi. I seek my brothers…’

‘They head towards the bridge. The psyker has been looking for you, Chaplain. It would seem that our path has changed.’

‘Changed?’

‘Yes. The way to Terra is blocked. The Tau have massed along the northern border. We…we cannot pass through.’

‘No!’ Codian raged, smashing his crozius into the bulkhead by his side. The power weapon tore through the thick metal as if it were paper, sending sparks coruscating across the deck.

‘I will not be denied again!’

‘The choice is taken from us.’ Andrasi answered, drawing his own weapon. ‘We must run. We must run north past Fenris, the only way free of the Tau fleets. It is the only way we shall survive this day.’

With that the Rogue Trader joined the tide of bodies and was gone, disappearing from sight within moments. Codian could barely contain the rage burning in his heart at being denied once more. Kryptman had been sure that the Tau were thin in this region, that their path forward would be free of obstruction. It seemed to him that the Unity were wiser than any of them had given credit for.

‘What is the word, Imperial.’ Grungi asked behind him. ‘Do we run, or do we fight?’

‘It would seem we run.’ Codian answered darkly. ‘And in the wrong direction.’

+++

The ethereal light played across his black armour, casting an azure glow over his standing form. Covered from head to foot in his artificer power armour, no one who cast their eyes upon Daelo Codian could even guess at the glowing rage that smouldered beneath the armoured shell.

‘Explain it to me again, Inquisitor. Why is it we still journey north, when the hallowed soil of Terra and our Imperial brethren lay to the south? I have a mission to complete, and I will see it completed no matter what. No living creature in this galaxy will prevent that.’

‘I understand your frustration.’ Kryptman answered, his voice deep and resonating as it carried over the multiple vox speakers set around the chamber walls.

‘It was only by the grace of the Emperor that we managed to evade the Nicassar. We have, however, hit upon a significant problem. It would seem the Unity have doubled their efforts to corral the Terran system. Our intended path is too treacherous to even attempt to take. No, we have sorely underestimated the Unity’s strength here in this region of space. If we are to hope to penetrate this cordon, we need information. We can’t take any chances with the Caesus, Chaplain.’

Codian frowned, unable to mask his displeasure.

‘Then what is our next course of action, Inquisitor? If we cannot head towards our intended destination, where do we go from here?’

‘We have a plan.’

‘We do? I am aware of no such plan.’

‘That is why I asked to speak with you, brother Astarte. It has become painfully clear that the Unity’s movements here in this Segmentum have increased exponentially. We need to acquire a better picture of the lay of the enemy. We must capture one of their kind.’

‘And how do you intend we do that?’

‘I have spoken with your iron-priest. We think that we may have come up with a way to divorce a Tau subject from the Ethereal’s control, if only for a short time. We know such a thing is possible, for it has happened before.’

‘O’Shovah?’

The glowing figure before him nodded slowly.

‘Imagine, Chaplain. Imagine if we can do this. To wrest the very defining power of control from the Ethereals would be an achievement greater than no other. The legend of Commander Farsight is a well-known tale in these times, a tale of hope to those still fighting the Unity’s control, and yet no one truly knows what O’Shovah found on that dead world.

‘Whatever he found, whatever happened to him, it was enough to cause him to hate his Ethereal masters with every ounce of his soul. Enough to cause a great schism within the Tau empire, a schism that is still being felt to this day. This has to be worth a try.’

Codian nodded slowly, realising that there could realistically be no other course of action. The way ahead had proved to be too treacherous, and they had to ensure that they found the safest path they could through the massing enemy.

‘Very well.’ He finally answered. ‘I will do whatever you advise, Inquisitor. I ask but one concession.’
‘Name it, Chaplain.’

‘The Caesus. Tell me of the Caesus.’

‘I…I cannot -’

‘Please, Inquisitor, spare me your pleas of secrecy. I know its function cannot be openly revealed while ever we risk capture by the Unity. I merely seek the answer to one particular riddle. When we first met, you told me that you were partly responsible for its creation. Do you remember?’

‘I do.’

‘Then answer me these questions. How did it come to be in the possession of Ankarzoth of Ryza? How many others were involved in this endeavour? If you cannot tell me what it does, then at least tell me how it came to be.’

There followed a long pause between the two figures, with only the softly humming field providing any noise. Finally, and much to Codian’s surprise, Kryptman’s half-shrouded face broke into a wry smile.

‘Clever, son of Macragge. I applaud your wiliness, but you forget that you speak with a man whose life’s work it has been to seek out the hidden truths in all things, to twist and manipulate every question so as to ensure the desired answer. Very well then Chaplain. I will indulge you.’

‘The Caesus is not a weapon in the conventional sense. Though we hope to use it against the Unity, in truth it was not designed to directly affect the Tau. No, the origins of the device lie far in the past, in a time long before the Tau rose to power.

‘Long ago, there was a meeting of great minds. Many of the Imperium’s foremost characters came together with a single purpose in mind. One purpose. One plan. To prepare.’

‘For what?’

‘The end.’ Kryptman whispered, almost fearfully. ‘The end of the Imperium. We had always known, since the time of the great Heresy, that this glorious kingdom our Lord Emperor built would eventually fall. Of course, to even countenance such a notion in those times was a heinous slight of heresy, and yet…’

He spread his arms wide as if to accent his point.

‘…Here we are.’

Codian’s face darkened along with his mood. Kryptman’s words caused his stomach to tighten and twist, a consequence of centuries of Imperial dogma. Nonetheless, he could not doubt that the Inquisitor spoke the truth.

‘This all sounds very clandestine.’

‘It was, I regret to admit. Nevertheless, it was decided that the preservation of the Imperium was more important than any other consideration. It fell to us few to safeguard humanity, to ensure that the seat of the Imperium and the Enthroned Emperor would forever be secure.

‘Calling upon our combined expertise, we calculated and planned the design of a device of such power as never before imagined. Focusing our efforts on a central theme, each one of us took it upon his or herself to create a single part of the ambitious project, so as to ensure that no one of us could ever use what we had achieved for our own ends.

‘Many were the minds involved in its creation. It fell to me to devise the device’s implications of use. To another, greater mind of the Inquisition, the means to power it. A powerful priest of the Mechanicus oversaw its construction. A prominent member of the Astropathic council of Terra directed us in its function. A legendary missionary of the Ecclesiarchy undertook the task of consulting the Imperial Tarot to divine the Emperor’s will and a great Saint of the Imperium took it upon herself to stand sentinel until the day it would be needed, to send the call that would signal the end time had come. It was an endeavour like no other.’

The Chaplain listened, but found he could not shake the dark feeling of subterfuge from his soul. To imagine such a conspiracy had existed back then, in his own time. Kryptman saw this in his eyes and nodded slowly.

‘I sense you discomfort, brother Codian, but you must understand that we all toiled with the best interests of our Imperium in our hearts.’

‘So you created this weapon in secret, long before the Unity rose to power?’

‘Yes. It was to be our legacy, our contribution to survival and stability, though I never imagined myself bearing witness to its application in my lifetime. None of us did. Now that Ankarzoth is dead, I may well be the last surviving member of the conclave, and I must put my faith in the others that each one of them left a legacy that will allow our collective efforts to be fulfilled. The Unity stand before the very gates of the Emperor’s Seat, and it is time.’

‘Faith? Legacy? Inquisitor, are you saying that you don’t even know if this Caesus will work?’

‘Nothing is certain, Chaplain. Faith is the very foundation upon which this project was built. I can only pray that, when the time comes, all the pieces will fall into place.’

+++

He left the chamber and made his way to the bridge, his soul churning. A newfound sense of anxiety and hesitation lingered inside him, unbalancing his humours. The conviction he had placed in the Caesus now seemed suddenly uncertain, his every effort, unsure.

Part of him wished he had never broached the subject.

He rounded the corner and slowed, finding Berolinus approaching at a marching pace.

‘Chaplain.’ He called, slowing to meet with Codian. ‘I have come to find you. We have a target.’

Berolinus turned back the way he had come and Codian fell in alongside him, feeling his spirits lift slightly at the prospect of action.

‘There is a small world not far from here, a world called Vanphilos. The ship’s long-range augurs have detected the presence of Tau technology. It would seem this world is under the control of the Unity.’

‘Then, it would seem, we have our opportunity.’ Codian answered, discontent clear in his voice.

Berolinus nodded and, in silence, the two warriors headed towards the bridge, and the destiny that awaited them.

[Razor Devil]

Part Twenty-Six.

Amongst The Enemy.

+++JEPHTA’S REACH+++
+++VANPHILOS+++
+++SEGMENTUM SOLAR+++


Rocking slightly beneath the movement of the open carriage, his eyes remained fixed to the distant alien shapes high above, hanging still in the air like bloated flies.

The Unity were everywhere, like a plague. One could not look to the skies without seeing a ship or drone vessel. High above the colossal crystal windshields protecting the city of Jephta’s Reach from the relentless, buffeting winds the Tau made their presence felt, ensuring that the conquered citizens of

Vanphilos could never forget, even for a moment.

He sneered and turned away, defiant of their unmistakeable message.

‘Stop here. This will be fine.’

The carriage slowed, the drone of the anti-grav motivators decreasing in time with the deceleration.

‘Five Imperials.’ The gruff navigator snapped, turning to face him. The man’s eyes fell upon the leather case at his passenger’s side and he paused, licking his lips.

‘Less you got foodstuffs in there. Lho sticks, liquor. I’ll take anything worth a trade.’

He noticed the look of desperation in the man’s eyes. Occupation did that to a populace. He didn’t know how long the Unity had been here, but it stood to reason that the Imperial credit had long since depreciated in value since the Unity had come to this world.

He ignored the case at his feet and began searching through the many pockets hidden beneath his wind-shawl, finally producing a good handful of credits, which he thrust into the navigator’s waiting hand.

‘Sorry friend. All’s left is Imperial creds. S’all any of us got left now the damn Greys got us under the leash.’

The navigator stuffed the credits into his pocket quickly, his eyes widening.

‘You mind your tongue, friend. You don’ know who or what’s scanning the ‘waves.’ The man hissed, flicking his head sharply to the left. A few moments later a trio of Kor’vesa drones hovered past them down the wide avenue, under-slung pulse carbines fanning slowly from side to side.

‘Listeners.’ The navigator whispered with disgust, as soon as he was sure the constructs were out of earshot. He shook his head and then began to power up the carriage once more, glancing swiftly behind him as his passenger climbed down onto the street.

‘You be needing me to wait?’

‘No.’ He answered, removing the case from the floor well of the carriage. The base thrum of the motivators filled his ears as he took in the city around him and the carriage left.

Jephta’s Reach. He could tell that this metropolis had once been a magnificent place. Its gleaming curved spires towered far above the windshields, glinting as they caught the sunlight. Far below, where the relentless winds could not penetrate, the mezzanine stretched as far as the eye could see. Its size hinted at the sheer volume of people that had once lined the marbled expanse. Now it was all but empty, the trading stalls bare, vendor and citizen alike shunning the once-popular area.

Propaganda posters and stuttering holo-projections proclaimed the dominance of the Unity, as if the peoples of Vanphilos might somehow forget their incarceration. Once-magnificent statuary lay toppled and shattered upon the flags, desecrated by the occupation force.

Little wonder then that this place had been shunned, he thought to himself.

He dismissed the oppressive melancholy of the square and started to walk, taking in the lay of the occupation forces. Over to his far right he could see a squad of Gue’vesa handing out recruitment leaflets. Their idling Devilfish had its rear hatch open, waiting to receive the inevitable youths drawn by promises of protection and favour in return for a life of service to the Unity.

Traitors to the Imperial cause, the soldiers now served the enemy. They fought and died for the Tau, whether through self-preservation or outright fear.

Traitors to a man. Just like him.

He decided to steer clear of them and crossed the avenue, heading towards the edges of the expanse. As he passed by one of the crackling projections, a depiction of an orating Envoy, he bowed his head and spoke softly.

‘The Tau’va is all. Live to serve in the name of the Unity.’

As he walked away he couldn’t help but feel the disgust churning in his gut. To speak those words now caused his soul to twist inside him, but he knew without a doubt that they were listening. He had seen others curse and denounce the Unity before these projections on dozens of worlds, only to pay the price minutes later as the Sentinel drones responded with extreme prejudice.

The Tau cared nothing for the lives of those they dominated, they only cared about compliance and servitude.

He would show them that rebellion would never be scoured from the hearts and minds of men.

Gunfire shook him from his reverie and he picked up the pace, quickly turning the nearest corner to happen upon a grim scene. A ten-strong Fire Warrior squad were stood over the broken bodies of several men, the crimson stains dashed across the wall behind the bodies speaking volumes of what had happened.

Another public dissident execution. Another flicker of rebellion quelled. He took a deep breath, pushed the anger and disgust deep down inside him, and started forward.

The Tau warriors glanced his way as he approached, the lenses of their helmets glinting in the sunlight. One or two of them shifted their position to face him, pulse rifles rising slowly.

‘The Tau’va is all.’ He called, picking up his pace slightly. Before any of the xenos had time to speak, he threw a nod towards the dead men and sneered.

‘Good hunting, noble Shas. Perhaps, given time, those foolish enough to entertain ideas of insurgence may finally realise the futility of their ideals. We must pray that the sons and daughters of these men learn from the pain of their loss.’

‘Move along.’ One of the Tau snapped, dismissing him with a wave of his rifle. ‘Mind your own business, gue’la.’

He didn’t heed the warrior’s warning. Instead, he made a show of glancing around him and then stepped forward, much to the alien’s chagrin. He shook the case in his hand.

‘Forgive me, but I have journeyed far in the name of the Tau’va.’

He produced a small ident-wafer, though it was clear by the glances the Tau threw one another that they had little idea of what they should be recognising.

‘Gue’la Intelligence, Sa’cea Command. I have in my possession enemy technologies; technologies that may well expedite the advancement of this suppression phase. It has taken us months to obtain this device but we are sure that its use here may well see an advance on Terra brought forward by months, perhaps even sooner.’

The squad Shas’ui of the squad, revealed to be the warrior that had first warned him off stepped forward and raised his rifle, halting only when inches from the mysterious man’s face. The rest of the squad mirrored the commander’s actions and within seconds a wall of thrumming pulse rifles surrounded him.

‘Drop the container on the floor and back away. Do as I command.’

He did so without question, placing the case before the cloven boots of the Shas’ui and then backing away, his hands slowly rising.

‘On your knees.’ The Shas’ui ordered, gesturing with his head towards the case. Another of the warriors stepped forward to retrieve it.

‘Please, have a care. The device is very delicate. If it sustains any damage…’

The Shas’ui smashed the barrel of his rifle across the man’s face, sending him sprawling onto the floor.

‘Silence, gue’la. Remember your place…’

‘I know my place! I serve Aun’O Ke’lsharn Gilth’or of the Kraken Shan’al. You would risk the wrath of an Aun so tactlessly?’

The entire squad froze upon the mention of an Ethereal. They retreated as one, heads bowed, rifles descending.

‘You? You serve an Aun? I…’

‘Careful, Shas brother. Speak with a cautious tongue. To question an Ethereal’s motives or conduct shows a lack of faith utterly inimical to the Tau’va, you know that.’

‘I question nothing.’ The Shas’ui answered sharply, clearly appalled by his near-lapse of control. ‘I live to follow the orders the Ethereals, not question them. You should…you should have identified yourself sooner.’

He picked himself up and grabbed the case quickly, ignoring the blood streaming from his nose.

‘Blame is irrelevant. This matter is of utmost importance and we have already discussed too much out in the open.’

He gestured over to the squad’s waiting Devilfish.

‘You have shown me that the citizens of this world still harbour the capacity for rebellion. I need to speak with whoever is in command as soon as you can arrange it. For the Greater Good.’

+++

The scream of thrusters shook the bulkhead of the transport, signalling the arrival of the target. The two warriors by the hatch glanced out into the square and then signalled to the others before quickly exiting, causing the rest of the Fire Warriors to follow without a word.

The Shas’Ui looked at him for a moment and then followed, gesturing for him to stay where he was seated.

He reached down by his side and gripped the handle of the case, feeling his pulse quicken. Time to act.

The Tau had searched him for weapons when he had boarded the Devilfish, a routine precaution. Of course, they had found none.

He was better than that.

He quickly placed the container on its side and opened it, the release clamps popping with a hiss. The inner lid of the case was false and he slid it aside to reveal the compact lasgun hidden there. He checked to ensure that none of the warriors were about to return and then snatched the weapon, quickly arming it.

The cockpit access door lay just ahead of him at the end of the hold, the pilot beyond that. He picked his way past the seating rows, activated the door release and calmly put three lasblasts through the pilot’s skull, the noise masked by the arrival of the craft outside. He deactivated and slid the pistol into his belt and then closed the hatch once more before quickly returning to his seat to await the arrival of the target.

The Fire Warriors returned within moments and with them was another Tau, much taller and more slender than the armoured warriors. He wore long robes of white and gold over segmented ivory armour, and a wide-brimmed headdress similar to the dome of a Kor’vesa drone. He carried a long cane topped with a symbol of his office, a bisected diamond shape headed by a circle of glowing azure light that fizzed and crackled rhythmically.

A hovering shield drone accompanied him, its inbuilt shield generator humming softly.
The warriors parted to allow the new arrival to approach him. The Tau did so, his obsidian eyes narrowing.

‘I am Por’O Gormat, Envoy Prelate. What is it you need so desperately to show me, gue’la?’

He looked into the eyes of the Water Caste Envoy and smiled.

‘Noble Por, I have a gift for you. A gift that may quicken the course of this war.’

The scowling Envoy looked on as he slid the heavy case across the floor towards him and then opened it, revealing the object within. The Tau cast a quizzical eye upon the offering and then looked at him, clearly unimpressed.

‘You would have me beg an explanation?’

‘No, Por. This is a piece of Imperial technology captured from an Astartes battle barge in the Ultima Segmentum. My master believes that, should the Earth Caste here be able to replicate the device, the advance of Leviathan may be accelerated beyond all expectation.’

He reached into the case and hauled the device out onto the floor of the hold, clearly struggling with its weight.

The Por eyed the ugly, angular gue’la construct with disdain.

‘Teleportation technology.’ He explained with a smile. The Por’s face slackened.

‘How…how does it function?’

‘Allow me to show you.’

He puffed and panted as he hauled the device down the ramp and placed it on the floor of the square. The Por’s personal Orca sat idle mere metres away, its open hatch flanked by the Envoy’s honour guard.

He righted the teleporter and then glanced around him, a wary look on his face.

‘It is unfortunate that we must test this machine out here in the open. Who knows what loyalties hidden eyes may hold?’

‘This world is under Unity control, gue’la. Its loyalty is assured.’

‘Of course.’ He answered, bowing his head. He made a show of quickly glancing over at the bodies of the executed rebels, a gesture he was sure was not lost upon the Envoy.

‘You must forgive my caution, Por. I have never before been entrusted with such an important task. From what I could gather, the T’au Shan’al itself awaits news of this device’s utilization.’

The Envoy almost choked as he heard this, visibly shuddering at hearing the mention of the Ethereal council of T’au. The weight of the stranger’s words appeared to have a physical effect on the Envoy as his entire body sagged.

He gestured to the surrounding Fire Warriors and they quickly formed a living shield around the precious technology.

‘Bring it to the hold of my craft, gue’la, and be quick about it. We will discuss the implications of its use.’

‘Of course, Por. A wise course of action.’ He replied, doing as ordered without delay.

Surrounded by twin walls of Fire Warrior armour, he began to lug the machine towards the open rear hatch of the bulky Orca.

‘Your name.’

The Envoy’s voice startled him and he slowed.

‘What is your name, gue’la?’

‘My pardon, Por. I am the Cadian.’

The Envoy’s smooth brow furrowed.

‘A curious name, but it will suffice. I will be sure to remember it, especially if this technology proves successful.’

‘I am sure you will, honoured Por.’ He replied, stepping into the bowels of the craft.

[Razor Devil]

Part Twenty-Seven.

Kidnap.


‘I presume you are able to operate this device?’

‘I am.’ The Cadian replied, stepping back as the teleporter began to power up, sending out a low hum that resonated through the surrounding bulkheads.

The Envoy gave a curt nod and then ordered the warriors back with a wave of his staff.

‘You intend to use it now? Is this wise?’

‘It is safe enough. Are you familiar with Imperial teleportation technology?’

‘Of course not. Such knowledge is the concern of the Earth Caste.’

‘My apologies. Fortunate then that I took the liberty of pre-arranging a small demonstration in order for you to familiarize yourself with its applications.’ He explained, producing a small control slate from the inside pocket of his jacket.

‘I have pre-programmed specific coordinates into the device. Using these coordinates I am able to actually displace this craft and send it to another location. I have set it to appear at the far end of this mezzanine. Assuming, of course, that you approve.’

The Envoy’s face slackened.

‘Intriguing. And you are able to guarantee that the craft will maintain its integrity? This is my personal transport, Cadian.’

The Cadian smiled and nodded.

‘I give you my guarantee, Por, that this will be a memorable day.’

+++

The Orca’s occupants filed out onto the surface of Vanphilos in one huge, swiftly-moving mass. The craft’s pilot was the last to exit, a tall, incredibly thin creature that almost seemed to struggle with the simple task of walking under his own volition. It was clear he more than any other was unhappy at having to leave the craft, though he never once voiced any displeasure. Once they were clear, the Cadian produced the control slate once more.

‘Good Por, today we will witness history being made.’ He said, pressing the small rune set into the centre of the device.

The Envoy answered him, though what was said, he never heard. He looked on as one of the Fire Warriors broke away from the squad and made his way over to the Devilfish, moving at a swift jog. A pang of apprehension quickened his pulse. Did the Tau suspect something?

The hilt of the Envoy’s staff jabbed him in the leg, rousing him from his reverie.

‘Did you hear me, gue’la? I asked you how long this is expected to take.’

‘Not long.’ He replied, all traces of obsequiousness gone from his voice.

‘Good. And what of the populace? Before you were concerned by the possibility of rebel witness. Do you not think this elaborate demonstration somewhat over-revealing?’

‘Perhaps it is time the agents and dissidents of the enemy received a demonstration of our power.’ The Cadian answered, his entire demeanour changing. He cast the slate aside and looked toward the Devilfish as a low, resonating whine began to rise steadily from the belly of the nearby Orca, its landing feet rattling on the flags below.

The Envoy threw him a bemused glance, a deep scowl weighing on his lipless mouth.

‘What is this? The craft is yet to move…’

He ignored the Envoy and took a few steps forward, his eyes fixed upon the silent skimmer tank. The Fire Warrior had been inside for several seconds now. What was to follow next was inevitable.

The emerging shas threw himself out of the xenos transport and onto the ground, shouting as loud as he was able. Every head turned slowly as the rest of the gathering heard this, bodies freezing in surprise. The Tau soldier sprinted across the square towards them, the rifle in his hands rising…

The Cadian drove an elbow into the helm of the warrior by his side, tore the rifle from his hands and blew the runner from his feet in a spray of visceral matter.

Before any of the others had time to react he turned and put a shot through the head of another warrior before driving the butt of the rifle into the Envoy’s gut, doubling him up. He kicked the glowing staff away across the flags and rolled around the back of the Water Caste commander. Before the taller creature had time to react he wrapped his free arm under the alien’s armpit and behind his head then slammed the barrel of the rifle into his chin, pushing the Envoy’s head up with a violent jolt.

‘Welcome to your fate, xenos.’ He snarled, a manic grin spreading across his scarred face. The rest of the Hunter Cadre hesitated, weapons hovering diffidently.

‘Gue’la kre.’ The Envoy spat. ‘I should have known. It will be a pleasure to witness the extermination of your kind once the Final Destiny is realised.’

The Cadian tightened his grip, causing the Envoy to release a quiet gasp.

‘Kre? You are right, Tau, I am a traitor. I betrayed my people and my Emperor once and I will spend the rest of my life atoning for that.’

‘You will never escape this square alive, gue’la. You have condemned yourself. Even as we speak there are forces mobilising to bring you down.’

‘And they will be well met.’ The Cadian replied, turning his captive so that he had a good view of the Orca.

‘Arrogance will prove to be the downfall of your Unity. You speak of destiny, noble Por. Look to yours.’

Por’O Tash’var Gormat’s eyes widened as they met with the twin red orbs of the leering gue’la skull. The black armoured giant threw himself from the Orca and landed heavily on the floor before the ramp, his crimson cape billowing about his back. His weapon roared and two of the Fire Warriors came apart where they stood, torsos disintegrating as the mass-reactive rounds blew them apart.

‘Forward, brothers of the Imperium!’ Codian shouted, thrusting his active crozius out before him to where the reeling Fire Warriors waited.

‘Cleanse this nest of Tau filth!’

The Chaplain broke into a sprint, each footfall shaking the ground beneath. More huge armoured shapes burst free of the Orca’s hold and ran after him, sending bolt rounds smashing into the gathered Tau warriors.

The Fire Warriors and the Por’s honour guard finally found the presence of mind to mobilise and began to drop, one by one, rifles quickly raised and aimed. The first round of pulse-fire hammered into Codian’s artificer armour, each hit a bright, ringing thud. Deep molten craters scored the ancient armour, each one exuding a thin, acrid smoke. The Chaplain did not falter.

By the time Codian had reached the Envoy and his captor the rest of the Tau lay dead or dying around him, broken by the relentless fire of the Marines. Only the Air Caste pilot still survived. The skeletal creature drew a small pistol from the holster at her waist, considered using it for no more than a passing moment and then, glancing at the wall of Marines surrounding her, made to cast it aside.

The thunder hammer of Torvus smashed her head from her shoulders regardless, causing the body of the slender pilot to fall forward onto its knees and then onto its chest.

‘Congratulations.’ Codian said, nodding towards the Cadian. With that he turned his gaze upon the Envoy.

‘Who is in command of the Tau here on this world?’

‘You waste your time, gue’la. This world is forever under the control…’

‘Who is in command of the Tau here on this world?’ Codian repeated, his armoured fingers closing around the Envoy’s neck. The former Kasrkin released his grip on the Tau and moved away, allowing the Chaplain to lift the Envoy as if he were lighter than air.

Despite the obvious fear in his eyes, the Envoy remained defiant.

‘Imperial fool. If you seek to undermine the command of this occupation force then you waste your time. The rule of each and every conquered planet is overseen by a Water Caste council. Kill or capture me you wish, it will make no difference.’
Codian tightened his grip just a fraction, enough to cause the Envoy to choke and squirm in his grasp.

‘Where are the Ethereals?’

‘F-far from here.’ The Envoy rasped, hardly able to answer. ‘They do not n-need to be present to d-direct the destiny of this war. Wuh-we a…’

The Chaplain swept the back of his gauntlet across the Tau’s face and knocked him unconscious.

‘Just as your Techmarine had hoped.’ Ligur uttered over his shoulder. Codian nodded and gathered the cataleptic Envoy up under his arm, holstering his bolt pistol in order to do so. He gestured over to where the Tau’s fallen staff lay, still pulsating softly.

‘Kryptman and Laenar’s instructions were clear.’ He said, looking to Berolinus. ‘Retrieve any ceremonial items or symbols of office belonging to the captive.’
Berolinus did as ordered and stooped to snatch the staff from the ground, moments before the first whine of high-powered engines was heard carrying over the rooftops of the surrounding city.

‘Reinforcements are coming!’ The Cadian shouted, stooping low to retrieve the rifle of one of the fallen Tau warriors.

Codian listened to the sound for a moment and then turned to the rest of the Marines.

‘Their response was swifter than anticipated. We must retreat while we can. Cadian, you realise the teleportation retrieval system will be unable to…’

‘I know, Chaplain. I am no Marine.’ The Cadian answered, quickly checking over the weapon in his hands.

‘I got down here by myself. I will get back. Either that, or the Emperor will decide it is time for my Trial before the Throne. Either way, I wish you luck. Restore our Imperium, Codian of the Ultramarines.’

The Chaplain’s eyes remained locked with the soldier’s for a moment.

‘Try your best to survive. Do not fall until you are sure you have done all you can. Any less would be an affront to the Emperor.’

The Cadian nodded and then sprinted out towards the Devilfish without another word, casting a quick glance at the growing shapes gliding over the distant rooftops of the city district.

Feeling the weight of the alien beneath his arm, Codian readied himself to leave Vanphilos behind, their prize secure.

‘Did I hear mention of a retreat?’
The familiar voice caused him to glance over his shoulder. A gnarled, ruddy face stared back, almost lost amid the matted tangle of red hair hanging about it.

Thurgus Grungi smiled his wide, broken smile at Codian, the jacket of his flight suit already removed and cast aside.

‘By Kurgan’s hairy rump, I don’t think so, stalk-leg. I’ve only just got here.’

‘Grungi? How in Macragge’s name..?’

‘What? I’m Demiurg, Marine. Your techpriests would soil their augmented breeches if they had even half a hint of what our Engineers were capable of. Don’t concern yourself, we have a battle to fight.’

The short alien thrust a finger out at the rapidly approaching craft.

‘I am the Tauslayer, Codian. It has been overlong since I last reaped my quota of grey flesh.’

With that the unhinged alien turned to look out towards the Tau transport, watching as the Cadian disappeared into the open side hatch.

‘Stay here and you will fall, Demiurg. We cannot fight an entire invasion force.’

‘Then perhaps my fate has caught up with me at long last.’ Grungi answered with a sneer of determination.

‘This is my life, to hunt and slay these grey filth-piles. Run if you must, complete your mission and exterminate these damned treacherous b-----ds for all time. I will not. Besides…’
He gestured in the direction of the Devilfish.

‘Retreat is not an option available to some of us. Your smaller friend is perhaps the bravest of us all. I will not abandon him as readily as you. Blessings of the ancestors be upon you, Codian of Ultramar.’

Codian made to reply but the Demiurg spun about on his heel and was gone, running as fast as his modest legs would allow. For the first time in his long existence he found himself stunned by the words of another. Stunned, and perhaps even more unexpected, derided. The truth of the alien’s words stung far more than any wound ever could.

There was no more time left to question or argue. The Tau were almost upon them. He quickly passed the unconscious Tau to Ligur.

‘Take him, brother, and set the teleport homer to return.’

Only Berolinus wavered, hesitating as the rest of the Deathwatch turned and jogged quickly back towards the Orca.

‘Brother Chaplain?’

‘Go.’ Codian snarled, sweeping his crozius out in a wide arc before him. ‘Do not argue. Do not question. Honour our Chapter’s memory and follow my orders without hesitation.’

‘The Emperor be with you, Chaplain.’ Berolinus replied, bowing swiftly before turning and dashing out after the others, the telltale hum of activating teleportation inversion coils rumbling beneath the rising whine of the approaching enemy force.

Daelo Codian stood alone in the middle of the square and listened to the familiar pulse-pulse-pulse of his Marine brethren returning to the Proscriptus Rex, along with their prize.

The Demiurg was right. The teleportation technology was designed for Astartes use, but with the proper modifications it could be used to transport almost anyone, the Tau was proof of that. In truth, he had given little thought to the Cadian’s fate beyond the capture of their target.

Now, left behind to face an entire Tau army, he considered what price honour would ask of him.

[Razor Devil]

Part Twenty-Eight.

The Escape.


The first Tau vessels to reach him came screaming out over the tall buildings and passed overhead, the passing downdraft rocking him and causing his cape to snap about his head. The wide mass of a Tiger Shark plotted out the sun above, flanked by a pair of Barracuda escorts, the screech of their collected engines vibrating his chest plate.

He watched as the three aircraft spread and began to come about, rising up over the spires of the surrounding buildings in order to turn.

‘Stalk-leg! Shave my mane, but it’s a sight to see you!’

He tore his eyes away from the sky to see Grungi waving from the hatch of the Devilfish, its engines whining as they powered up.

‘Well, what are you waiting for? The Tau to frag your **** into the warp? Come on, move it!’

He lowered his head and ran, every thunderous step shattering the floor beneath his feet. He tore his bolt pistol free and armed it, checking the ammunition readout flashing on the inside of his visor. Half a clip.

Within a minute he ascended the ramp with a single bound and ducked inside the vehicle, feeling it shift beneath his feet. Grungi was standing behind the door, a manic grin on his face.

‘Welcome to your conscience, Imperial. You had better make a little more room.’

‘What?’

‘It would seem your newfound sense of ethics is infectious.’ Grungi replied, gesturing out past him. He looked out of the hatch to see another shape sprinting towards the craft, the sunlight glinting off the silver trim of his armour.

It was Torvus, Ligur’s assault Marine. The dark-skinned warrior shouted something incomprehensible in the racket caused by the howling engines of the approaching Tau craft and thrust his hammer out towards the wide avenue, his pace increasing further.

His warning was clear. The Tau ground forces were almost upon them. Codian risked a glance up at the skies as the Marine thundered into the hold beside him, watching as the large Tiger Shark began to disgorge its complement of gun drones.

‘What do you think you are doing?’ He asked the Marine, retreating back into the interior of the craft. To his complete surprise, Torvus lowered himself onto one knee and bowed his head, his storm shield and thunder hammer spread out before him.

‘My duty, Chaplain. My life is His. I exist only to wreak His vengeance, to bring nought but rightful death to His enemies. I will not run from that destiny. I will stand and fight while ever there enemies to slay.’

‘Then stand, brother, for there are enemies aplenty here on Vanphilos.’ Codian replied, shifting back to allow the Marine to stand. By his side, Grungi nodded vigorously in approval.

‘Too bloody right there are. Enough that I may spare one or two for the whetting of your mallet, Marine. I am feeling generous.’

Torvus threw the Demiurg a spiteful glance that the short alien almost seemed to take pleasure in disregarding. Codian left the two warriors and made his way over to the cockpit hatch, stepping over the leaking body of the vehicle’s former pilot.

‘I assume you know how to pilot this craft?’

The Cadian glanced behind him quickly and then turned his attention back to wrestling with the controls, his actions causing the Devilfish to begin to glide forward.

‘I have a grasp of the basics. Shouldn’t you lot be on the bridge of the Proscriptus Rex by now? I wasn’t planning on carrying passengers.’

‘Plans change.’ Codian replied. ‘Just keep us moving. We will try to take care of the rest.’

‘Yes Chaplain. Ave Imperator.’

Codian slammed the hatch shut and picked his way back along the confined hold as the Devilfish began to pick up pace, the shrill whine of the engines a muted hum behind the thick armour of the hull.
Torvus and Grungi were waiting for him.

‘What is the plan?’ The Marine asked, fighting to keep his balance.

‘To stay alive.’ The Chaplain replied. ‘And to kill as many of the enemy as we can.’

‘By the Leagues, that’s a sound plan!’ Grungi answered. ‘My metal fist aches for Tau blood. Its joints thirst for lubrication, the only kind it knows.’

Codian ignored the Demiurg and moved to speak with his brother Marine.

‘The Tau here vex me, Torvus. I was under the impression they had changed, grown larger and stronger like the beast we encountered when we rescued you.’

‘You speak of the Shas Kayon, the Astartes Hunters. Monsters like O’Kir’la were engineered to be largest and strongest of their kind. These Tau are of a more typical constitution…’

Torvus’s words trailed off as he realised the Chaplain’s attention was elsewhere, his eyes set on the scene behind him. He followed Codian’s gaze through the open hatch and looked on as the drones launched from the Tiger Shark beset upon the Orca.

The constructs unfolded as they fell, multi-jointed extremities unfurling. The disc-shaped arachnoids clambered quickly into the open hold, weapon-limbs searching the space. Others spun on their axis to look out at the fleeing Devilfish.

‘Once they realise the Envoy has gone, they will hunt for us.’ Torvus announced. The transport took a sharp right into the depths of the city and the scene quickly disappeared.

The Devilfish tore down the narrow street, the backwash from its thrusters bowling terrified citizens from their feet. Bodies ran screaming in flight as the speeding craft careered from left to right, scraping the facades of buildings and felling glowlamp stalks amid showers of sparks.

Codian threw open the pilot’s hatch and loomed inside, his armoured torso filling the cramped space.

‘Can’t this crate move any faster?’

Without pausing to look behind him, the Cadian shook his head.

‘Throne, Chaplain, any faster and we won’t make the next turn.’

He began to manipulate the control bank before him and a section of the digitally-projected windshield’s interior became a readout screen, the alien symbols printed across the glass utterly unrecognisable to the Astarte.

‘It would seem we have an entire Hunter Cadre on our tail. Any ideas how we are going to lose them?’

‘You tell me, Cadian. You served these xenos cretins for a time. Surely you have an idea of how they operate?’

The Cadian did not turn to offer his reply, yet Codian could sense the soldier’s bristling at his words.

‘Hmm. The aircraft are our main concern. We have little chance of outrunning the Barracudas. Our only chance will be to deploy the disruption pod…’

The entire craft rocked violently and Codian watched through the projected screen as the brace of sleek, snub-nosed flyers thundered past them, blotting out the sun.

‘That was too close.’ The Cadian said, fighting to keep the transport steady. ‘Sooner or later their crew will compensate. We are living on borrowed time.’

‘We need a plan.’ The Chaplain answered. ‘I assume this vehicle has its own armaments?’

‘A single nose-mounted burst cannon and a smart missile system. Nowhere near enough to win this fight.’

‘Improvise. The Emperor will show us the way.’

The narrow avenue widened and then stretched away all at once, revealing a vast, open space. The ground either side of the Devilfish plummeted away, leaving a twin-lane strip of road stretching out before them.

The suspension bridge was huge, spanning the valley from horizon to horizon. Sparkling blue water twinkled far below.

Far up in the azure skies, the Cadian looked on as the distant fliers began to turn and come about, ready for another attack run.

‘S--t. I may have just signed our death warrant.’ He warned the Chaplain. ‘We’ll never make it to the end of this damned bridge!’

‘Then do all you can to take them out of the equation.’ Codian answered. ‘You say this craft has missiles. Use them.’

‘Way ahead of you.’

The Cadian began to frantically program the intelligent munitions, leaving the Chaplain to push his way back into the transport’s hold.

Torvus was by the open hatch, his eyes fixed intently on the blurred barriers speeding past.

‘It seems we’ve hit a snag.’ He observed. Codian nodded and glanced at the pair of stunted legs standing on the raised platform before him.

‘I’d have to agree with the lad!’ Grungi called from the open cupola above. ‘It would seem that we are not fraught with options out here!’

Codian holstered his weapons and plucked a pulse rifle from the munitions rack lining the hull.

‘Let me see.’ He ordered, depressing the symbol set into the bottom of the platform, an action that caused the circular dais to descend.

Grungi scowled in displeasure as he appeared, their two faces drawing level.

‘What gives..?’

‘I will not yield without a fight, Demiurg. Save your flying fist for when the enemy are close enough to smell. I intend to delay that time for as long as I can.’

With that he climbed onto the dais and rose to his full height. Such was his size that he didn’t need to raise the platform up.

He lifted the alien rifle up through the hatch in time to see a number of speeding shapes scream from the front fins of the Devilfish, twisting contrails spreading in their wake. The smart missiles rose sharply and stabbed through the overhead latticework of girders before spearing out into the skies, hunting for the approaching flyers.

He almost lost the rifle when the skimmer rose suddenly, avoiding a slower moving vehicle below. In his struggle to maintain his balance he watched as both Barracudas began to fire, ion cannons flashing like miniature suns as they unleashed their deadly particle streams.

A glittering cloud puffed from the two flyers as the pilots realised, a fraction too late, that the smart missiles were upon them. The decoy launchers caused most of the twisting missiles to explode prematurely, though a brace of the intelligent munitions managed to break through the cloud of emitter drones and reflective chaff and spear through the wide intake grille of the of one of the flyers.

The Barracuda’s entire left side expanded and ruptured beneath a billowing mushroom of flame, sending the unfortunate craft into a dizzying spin.

‘Look out!’ Codian cried as the burning craft corkscrewed into and through the uppermost support spires, smashing girders loose and causing tension cables to snap like straw. A good deal of the descending craft was torn away, fins and armour plate shedding and spinning away.

Codian shielded himself instinctively as the falling craft ploughed through the vertical cabling metres before them and plummeted out of sight, thick black smoke extending lazily in its wake. One of the Barracuda’s wing-mounted pulse cannon drones scythed towards him like a falling coin and rang off the hull of the Devilfish before spinning past his head, shedding matter and weapon parts like rain.

Rubble fragments pattered against his visor as the hurtling skimmer punched through a thick wall of dust thrown up by the ion cannon streams, mercifully diverted at the last moment by the missile strike. He rotated as fast as he was able, the pulse rifle still in his grasp, to see a number of woefully familiar shapes loom through the choking grey cloud behind them.

‘Emperor’s oath…’ He uttered, watching as the long, sleek barrel of the pursuing Hammerhead pierced the veil like an arrow. Behind it followed more bulky hovering shapes, all similar and yet differing in the configuration of their weaponry.

As if to add one final nail to the coffin lid, the wide, dark shape of the Tiger Shark slid over the smaller tanks like a miniature eclipse, skimming the tops of the support towers. A glance to the left saw the remaining Barracuda circling wide over the horizon to begin another attack run, ready to reap its vengeance in blood and death.

There was nowhere to run.

‘We have a problem’ He warned the others, ducking into the hold.

‘I know, Imperial.’ Grungi answered. ‘Your soldier has already warned us. A fine variety of targets for us to choose from. Who do you recommend we dispatch first?’

Codian shook his head and was about to rise through the cupola once again when a sudden melodic pattering rang off the hull, causing the Demiurg to flinch. Several small glowing patches appeared by his head, the metal there turning red-hot in seconds.

‘By the Core, what is that?’

Codian rose through the hatch and looked up to see scores of large drones falling towards them, their twin burst cannons spinning webs of pulse fire his way. He thrust the pulse rifle up, took aim through the sight and fired, splitting his first target open like a ripe fruit. He quickly shifted his aim and fired again, punching another automaton from the sky. Another shot, another successful hit.

The drones were armed well but they were slow, both in compensation for the speed of the Devilfish and in descent. Codian dismissed the lancing azure energy slamming into the hull all around him and silently prayed to the immortal Emperor to help him maintain a steady aim.

Within seconds a shower of pulse shot hissed by him and slammed into his shoulder guard, gouging glowing craters in the thick ceramite. The rifle shattered amid a shower of sparks and the separate pieces spun away, metal pattering across his faceplate and shoulders. He cast the remains aside and drew his bolt pistol, aiming and firing single-handed. Another gun drone shattered into whickering fragments, its armour nowhere near proof enough to stop the Imperial bolt round. The rest of the bolts failed to find a mark and he ejected the spent clip, already fumbling at the pouches at his waist for another.

‘Here, stalk-leg, try these.’ He heard Grungi call from below, and felt a collection of disc-shaped objects being thrust into his questing fingers. He pulled his hand up to see them.

‘EMP grenades. Set the timer dial to minimum and throw them, Imperial. Don’t concern yourself too much with accuracy.’

‘Arm my pistol.’ He answered, casting the weapon down into the hold.

‘Eh? Don’t think I’ll be rummaging about your armoured bloody crotch for ammunition, stalk-leg…’

The Chaplain took one of the discs, turned the dial to minimum with his thumb and then depressed the activation button, arming the device. He drew his arm back and hurled the grenade over his shoulder at the descending drones. The grenade burst apart in mid-air, emitting a blinding flash of light and a shriek of noise. The drones nearest the explosion shuddered and fell from the air, trailing thin grey smoke.

Without hesitation he armed and threw two more in quick succession, his actions causing more of the slow-witted constructs to fall, smouldering and dead. He continued to do this until he had a single grenade left. He was about to throw it when he heard Grungi call from the hold below him.

‘Message from your Guard brother, Imperial. You had better hold on tight up there, as it would seem the Hammerhead has acquired a target lock.’

Codian froze. He shifted around to find the wide barrel of the huge Hammerhead railgun pointing their way.

‘Emperor guide me.’ He whispered, feeling the smooth disc in his hand. They had but one chance.

[Razor Devil]

Part Twenty-Nine.

Desperate Tactics.


He thumbed the disc timer to maximum and armed it, realising at once that they were all moments away from destruction. He had witnessed first-hand the unmatchable power of the Hammerhead railgun in battle long before this wretched time, and he had no desire to find himself on the receiving end.

The familiar, terrible whine of the gun’s accelerator coils carried through the air, warning of the impending devastation that was to follow. The tank’s under-slung target array flashed, a thin beam of crimson light connecting its sighting lens to the rear of the craft beneath him.

Its aim was dead centre on the Devilfish’s rear hatch. If the shot was on target then they would die, as sure as anything. The railgun projectile would punch through the hold of the skimmer, travelling at such hypervelocity that it would liquefy everything in its path…

He steeled himself and flung the grenade as hard as he could out at the chasing tanks, praying he had judged correctly. Time seemed to slow around him as the desperation of the situation accelerated his enhanced system into overdrive.

The ominous railgun’s barrel began to glow with building energy, ready to unleash the deadly projectile. The grenade struck the road and bounced, spinning madly. Smaller, faster shapes pushed their way past the tanks and began to accelerate towards them, sleek, two-man skimmers capable of far greater speeds than their larger cousins.

The grenade bounced again, turning madly end over end, heading towards the hammerhead’s nose-mounted sensor array. At the far end of the bridge he caught sight of the surviving Barracuda, swooping in low beneath the towering support stanchions to chase after the Tau convoy, eager for its share of the kill.

The grenade bounced one final time and, much to his relief, lodged itself in between the array and the tank’s hull. He held his breath, made the sign of the aquila at his chest, and whispered the Emperor’s name.

‘Deliver us, Lord of Terra. We have much work yet to be done.’

The EMP grenade exploded, sending a wave of rippled electromagnetic energy washing over the smooth hull. The Hammerhead listed badly and dipped sharply, its smooth nose ploughing into the road, carving ferrocrete as it went. The railgun shot screamed past wide, though close enough to almost drag the Chaplain from the turret. He held on for dear life as he fought to follow the large bullet’s trajectory, tracing the shimmering rings left behind all the way to where the shot slammed into one of the vast ferrocrete support pillars, puncturing the thick mast with a supersonic boom.

The hole made by the shot seemed to grow and widen by the second, spider web fractures spreading as the thick stone was first shattered and then dragged through the widening gap, pulled by the powerful vacuum the projectile had created. He watched as the entire integrity of the pillar weakened almost at once, the cracks spreading from horizon to horizon until, emitting an ominous, rumbling shudder, it began to shift.

He tore his gaze away and looked out behind him to see the Hammerhead tumbling end over end, breaking apart as it went. A number of the other skimmer tanks and lighter craft were caught by the stricken vehicle and were crushed, metal squealing against metal as the highway became clogged by pulverised armour.

That was when the sky above him became night all at once.

The deep, rumbling quake was a terrible sound, so powerful to shook the Devilfish around him. They were passing directly beneath the pillar when it started to topple, tensioned steel wire pinging and snapping under the strain. They passed beneath the falling stone tower and night became day once again, the bright sunlight hitting his vision-slits. The surviving pursuers quickly followed, escaping the collapse of the support seconds before it crashed into the bridge.

The pursuing Barracuda, however, was not so lucky.

By the time the pilot of the craft had realised the pillar was about to topple it was too late. With no way to turn or retreat, the flyer smashed into the falling support and turned into a searing fireball, a second before the massive chunk of stone crashed into and through the bridge, cutting it in two.

Codian felt the resultant shockwaves quake the bridge to its very foundations beneath him, causing the bottom of the Devilfish to scrape against the trembling road. He cast a final, hateful glance up at the vast underbelly of the Tiger Shark and then sank into the hold.

‘Hah!’

He froze as he felt a hard, ringing slap ring against his vambrace.

‘A mighty effort, bone priest! Saw the tower collapsing through the viewscreen! An inspired effort! I’ll wager it took out a few of those bloody no-snouts behind us as well, eh?’

‘There numbers are depleted.’ Codian answered flatly. ‘But we are far from out of danger.’

‘If we are to die, we will do so with our hands slick with Tau blood.’ Torvus said behind them. The Demiurg smiled at this.

‘Spoken like a true warrior, Marine.’

‘I have no intention of falling.’ Codian answered. ‘Not here, not today. While ever we still breathe, there is hope.’

‘Forgive me, Chaplain.’ The Cadian called from the pilot’s seat. ‘But we still have more than enough problems to deal with. Sensors are detecting another wave of drones preparing to launch from the Tiger Shark, and I’m picking up several markerlight tracers sweeping our rear hull. We have a Sky Ray amongst our pursuers, and I don’t think our disruption pod is going to hold out much longer. It is set at maximum just to keep the enemy’s target locks confounded, but I’m shunting so much power through it that it will burn out before lon…

‘Crud. It gets worse. I’ve just detected another Tiger Shark bearing down on our position, following the highway from the south. It will be upon us by the time we reach the end of this bridge.’

‘Then we have to act.’ Codian said darkly, holding out a hand for his bolt pistol. The Demiurg passed his freshly-loaded weapon to him and scowled, clearly at odds with the concept of falling to the enemy’s guns.

Torvus snarled and booted the hull before him in anger, the blow so hard that it left an imprint in the thick metal.

‘Damn these filthy xenogens! They have us! By the Throne, they have us!’

He looked towards the others, hatred blazing in his dark eyes.

‘We are helpless against them now. We have nothing left to fight them with save for the weapons at hand.’

‘What about the missile system?’ Codian asked, remembering the demise of the first flyer. He craned his neck out into the cockpit and looked up at the ominous spread of the Tiger Shark above.

‘We blew one of their craft from the skies…’

‘Redundant.’ The Cadian answered soberly, throwing the Devilfish to the left in order to avoid another isolated and bewildered civilian transport.

‘I tried the same thing again as soon as the Tiger Shark accelerated beyond us. The craft’s decoy launchers obliterated them all. We didn’t even touch it.’

‘Curse them.’ Codian spat, hauling his vast frame back into the hold. ‘Then there is nothing else for it but t…’

‘Markerlight.’

He looked at Grungi, who stared back with a frenzied, tooth-laden smirk.

‘By the seven hundred Leagues, of course. Hnn. Bloody markerlights.’

The Demiurg threw himself around and began sifting through the stored equipment lining the hold, casting weapons and ammunition aside in his turbulent quest. Within moments he emerged from the scattered heap, one of the Tau guns held in his hand.

The short xenos gestured at the small black rectangular addition strapped to the side of the snub-nosed pulse carbine, an expression of triumph upon his ruddy, scarred face.

‘Hah! Don’t you see? We don’t need heavy guns to assail them. Those feckless, three-fingered fools will provide the fireworks for us!’

‘You have lost me, Demiurg…’ Codian began.

Grungi brandished the weapon in his hand with a fierce vigour.

‘Brother stalk-leg, you have a lot to learn about the sheer stupidity of Tau technology. We don’t need our own tank-killers. The Unity has been gracious enough to provide them for us. Allow me to enlighten you.’

With that he jogged over to the cupola platform, leapt up onto the circular dais and disappeared, quickly rising out of sight.

Codian couldn’t help but find himself intrigued.

Thurgus Grungi felt the rush of the wind in his knotted hair and inhaled deeply, taking in the fresh atmosphere. His augmetic eye whined softly as it adjusted to the illumination difference of the open air, the bright sunlight causing the glass-covered iris to contract.

He turned his gaze to the Tau armour hot on their heels, the twists of his matted mane whipping about his head and face like cables.

He could see the Sky Ray nestled amongst the pursuing vehicles, its wide turret rack laden with seeker missiles. He was glad to see the absence of the Hammerhead, although the quantity and variation of the other Tau war machines chasing them caused him to grimace with displeasure.

Still…

‘Ancestors be with me.’ He uttered, lifting the stolen weapon up to his chest. He armed the mounted markerlight with a swift flick of his stubby finger and then thrust the gun up, finding the belly of the Tiger Shark.

‘Find your mark, my beauty.’ He whispered, directing the emerging red laser towards the descending drone rack. He shifted his aim so as to ensure the laser was aimed as far into the exposed space as possible and then, allowing himself an ironic smile, pressed the trigger.

The whine of the arming missile could be heard, even from this distance. He lowered the pulse carbine and looked out at the distant armada following them as the Sky Ray’s missile rack came to life, a telltale puff of white smoke rising up from the automated thrusters of one of the mounted missiles. The intelligent munitions screamed as it detached itself unbidden from the rack, streaking skywards faster than mortal sight could follow. By the time Grungi was able to shift his squat frame around to observe its progress the seeker missile was loosed and it speared into the open hold of the Tiger Shark, detonating on impact.

A brilliant plume of searing fire billowed from the gap, blowing the descended rack clean off its runners. The twisted metal platform landed upon the massed cabling above and bounced over the edge, spinning as it fell away. The gun drones waiting to be released there were immolated to ash in an instant, torn apart by the ferocious explosion. The entire craft shuddered as its belly was ruptured, its unprotected interior torn to shreds by the powerful missile.

Grungi laughed and aimed the weapon once again, pressing the auxiliary trigger twice more. Another two missiles screamed free of the Sky Ray and slammed into the flyer, detonating across its immense underside.

The entire sky above seemed to grow closer as the Tiger Shark began to list, huge gaping holes torn right through the wide craft. Secondary explosions continued to flash and burst across its length as it began to fall, veering sharply to the right.

The Demiurg twisted in the cupola as the growing fireball fell away and grinned, hunting for his next target. A number of the chasing Piranhas speared ahead of the skimmer tanks and began to fire. He spied the questing railguns of a TX-42, his eye narrowing.

‘You’ll be my next offering.’

He activated the markerlight and within moments another missile detached itself from the Sky Ray’s rack and screamed as it slammed into the light skimmer, tearing it apart instantaneously. Flaming debris flashed past his face, casting a orange glow over his exposed skin. The explosion caused the other small skimmers so slow, veering sharply to avoid the backwash. This in turn caused problems for the following skimmer tanks and thus the entire enemy convoy was thrown into momentary chaos, resulting in the demise of one of the Piranhas as it was crushed by an oncoming Devilfish.

Grungi laughed wickedly, delighting in the destruction he was causing. He gleefully aimed the markerlight once more, this time at the missile-toting Sky Ray itself, and pressed the trigger.

‘Let’s see how suicidal you are feeling…’
Much to his chagrin, nothing happened. He pressed again and again, before realising what had happened. Finally figuring out the duplicity ahead, the crew of the Sky Ray had deactivated their missile rack. A sensible action by all accounts, considering. Sensible, but ultimately futile.

Sensing the sudden deactivation of the Sky Ray’s munition bank, the simple artificial intelligence of the seeker missile mounted to the Devilfish behind it responded to the Demiurg’s request and flared to life, detaching itself from its hull mount. It speared up and then straight back down into the nose of the Sky Ray, tearing the craft apart as it detonated. The resulting explosion engulfed the other skimmer tanks in one huge conflagration, breaking them to pieces or dashing them against the thick ferrocrete barriers of the bridge.

He watched as the few surviving Piranhas at the head of the group wavered and lifted at the rear, like boats caught in a vicious swell. Laughing, he powered up the carbine in his hands and emptied the power cell in a flurry of bright pulse fire before hurling the gun itself out at the speeding shapes.

‘That’s how it’s done, Marines!’ He announced, sliding back into the hold. Torvus withdrew his head back inside the craft and nodded, genuinely impressed.

‘An effective tactic, xenos, though we do still have several light support craft on our tail.’

As if in response to his warning a hail of ringing thuds pattered against the rear hatch.

‘And another Tiger Shark to deal with.’ The Cadian called from the pilot’s seat.

The Demiurg scowled.

‘Hnn. Well then, let’s see you lot do bloody better!’

Codian peered down at the small being before him and then raised the pistol in his hand, issuing a curt nod.

‘My turn, Demiurg.’

He strode over to the large rear hatch and slammed his fist into the release button, causing the armoured disc to fall open with a resounding clang. Through the screen of sparks he watched as the closing Piranhas loomed into view, nose-mounted burst cannons wailing as they spat glowing death his way. Burning energy pulses pinged off the bulkhead around him as he stepped forward and fired his bolt pistol one-handed.

The closest Piranha shuddered as the pilot’s body disintegrated, his fingers wrenching at the controls. It veered away to the left to dash itself against the bridge, sending out a wild spray of pulse-fire that peppered the open hold and staggered the Chaplain. Codian gritted his teeth and bit back a cry of pain as he felt his chest armour and shoulder guard grow red-hot instantly.

‘A fine shot.’ Grungi shouted, pushing past the shaken Marine. His eyes were wild with feral anticipation.

‘Caution, Demiurg…’ Codian began, watching ominously as the three remaining skimmers began to close on them. The trio of craft began to disgorge their complement of gun drones as the surviving TX-42 primed its railrifles, leaving the others to spear forward, intending to draw level with the Devilfish.

‘Caution be damned, Marine! Death’s gaze is too lofty to find a stunty like me!’
Before the Chaplain could offer any more protests, Grungi sprinted forward and leapt clear of the open hatch, his short legs treading the open air. He drew his arm up and out behind him and his metal fist detached, its link chain unravelling.

The ambushed TX-42 unleashed a brace of whining railrifle shots that almost tore the Chaplain’s armour from his body as they flashed past, boring through bulkhead walls and support girders until they exited, pulling everything in the hold unsecured with them, including one of the gun drones unfortunate to find itself in the bullet’s path. Torvus batted the spinning construct aside with his forearm and cried out in anger as he fought the pull of the hypervelocity, the whites of his eyes instantly bloodshot with the pressure.

A second later, Thurgus Grungi landed on the smooth nose of the skimmer and sealed the fate of the Tau crew.

The Demiurg was aflame with murderous zeal. He swung the fist-mace above him and smashed two of the hunting drones into pieces before turning his attention to the craft below. The balled fist ignited and scythed through the armoured roof strut, almost taking the head of the pilot as it swung past.

The skimmer swerved right, throwing Grungi off-balance. He rolled along the smooth hull and landed on his feet on the left wing, arms flailing.

The thin roof strip began to lose integrity and peel away, revealing the two stricken warriors beneath. Grungi snarled and lunged forward, his augmetic hand smashing another drone from the air before quickly retracting. He grabbed the pilot and hauled him from his seat, flinging the hapless Tau out onto the road like a stone.

‘Time to lose some ballast.’ He growled, descending upon the ill-fated gunner.

‘Hard right, Cadian! Cut them off!’

Codian spun sharply to see the assault Marine lurch back, questing pulse-fire shredding the hatch ring before him.

‘They intend to flank us, Chaplain!’ Torvus shouted, arming his powerful hammer. The weapon shuddered as it powered up, a sheen of whispering energy sliding over its solid head.

Codian nodded and jogged toward the crew compartment.

‘Cadian…’

‘I heard, Chaplain.’ The soldier answered, hauling the control stick to the right. The Devilfish tilted as it swung right, so close to the walls that the hull shook and squealed. The entire transport rocked as it struck something less immobile and was pushed violently back, the impact throwing the Chaplain across the hold. He looked out of the rear hatch to see Grungi and his captured skimmer pass beneath the twisting wreck of the rammed Piranha, his fist held high in triumph.

One left, he thought to himself.

Torvus was already halfway out of the hatch by the time he shifted his gaze. The Marine swung from the gap, the fingers of his shield hand embedded in the hatch ring. He brought his thunder hammer down on the Piranha’s hull so hard that the skimmer’s nose crashed into the road, tearing the pulse cannon from its mount. The skimmer flipped violently, its back end turning over to smash into the ferrocrete. Within seconds it was gone, a dull, thunderous explosion quaking the bridge behind them.

‘Only one.’ Torvus hissed, hauling himself back into the transport.

‘What…’

‘Only one of them…in there…’

Codian realised what Torvus was trying to tell him a second or two before he heard the sound of hooves crossing the hull above.

‘Arrogant xenos.’ He snarled, removing his crozius from its strap.

It was then that the grenade fell through the open cupola and rang as it struck the deck at his feet.

[Razor Devil]

Part Thirty.

The Vespid.


Codian saw the grenade land at his feet and in that instant cursed his stupidity. Even as his body reacted to the shock, he knew he didn’t have the chance to do anything, yet still he reached forward unbidden, intending to bear the brunt of the blast…

The grenade exploded and the world turned white. Ultrasonic noise rose sharply until it was far beyond mortal hearing, a fierce, shuddering lance of pain at the brain’s centre. The concussive force blew him back into the hull, yet the detonation was not enough to kill or even injure him.

Blind and deaf despite the protection of his armour, he struggled to right himself, tearing fixtures from their moorings in his bludgeoning attempts. He felt the grilled deck vibrate beneath him as his attacker fell from the cupola, ready to reap the rewards of his successful ruse.

Debilitated as he was, he could do little except cling to his life.

He felt his crozius heavy in his hand and swung it violently, feeling the field-generating weapon spasm as it carved through the Devilfish’s hull, shearing thick armour as easily as paper. Red-hot hammer blows punched into his chest armour, hurling him back to the floor with bone-snapping violence and forcing the breath from his lungs. He was no coward but he found himself dearly wishing that Laenar had been swifter in his efforts to repair his rosarius, if only to provide him with a measure of extra protection while he was in this vulnerable state.

He heard Torvus cry out as if immersed in thick liquid, his powerful voice quickly fading into the rush of the passing air outside the skimmer.

The confounded auto-senses of his helmet began to slowly reconfigure themselves and light soaked into his vision, sound seeping in a second later. He became aware of raised voices and shouted curses ahead of him. The sound of weapons fire sang loudly and the Devilfish rocked, its engines whining. The skimmer touched the road and bounced back up, rattling him around inside his armour.

‘This ends now.’ He raged, the last effects of the photon grenade fading away to reveal the chaos before his eyes.

The Cadian was in clear distress, buried beneath the Tau warrior. The warrior’s pulse rifle was on the floor behind him and he had a short, ornate knife in his hand, the bright metal quivering as he tried with all his might to force it down into the soldier’s flesh.

Codian bounded across the hold and grabbed the Fire Warrior, huge armoured fingers enveloping his neck. The warrior dropped the knife and cried out as the Marine flung him back across the hold and clear out of the Devilfish’s open rear hatch.

The Cadian shouted something back to him that he didn’t catch. His eyes were fixed to the looming mass of the approaching Tiger Shark coming in low and fast over the tops of the bridge supports. This accursed bridge seemed to stretch on forever. He tore his eyes away from the ominous scene and looked out to see Grungi and his stolen skimmer swiftly advancing upon the Devilfish. To his relief, he could see Torvus spread out across the back of the vehicle, holding on for dear life. The surviving drones were far behind them now, unable to maintain the speeds needed to keep up.

Grungi’s skimmer disappeared from view as he accelerated, appearing once more moments later at the open side hatch. Torvus clambered across the vehicle and threw himself into the hold, relief clear on his face. The Demiurg followed straight after, leaving the Piranha behind to its fate.

‘I thought you lost, brother. It is good to see you still with us.’ Codian said to Torvus. The Marine simply bowed his head in reply.

‘Good to see you too, stalk-leg.’ Grungi huffed caustically, dusting himself down. ‘Luckily, your thanks for my efforts are not needed.’

‘I will applaud your efforts once we are out of danger.’ Codian answered, watching as the huge shadow crept over them from the rear and disappeared.

He spun towards the crew compartment and looked at the projected viewscreen before the Cadian, watching as the Tiger Shark’s nose emerged overhead, the rest of its vast bulk following a second later.

‘Will we make it to the end of this damned bridge before they start to deploy the drones?’ He asked the Cadian.

‘Unlikely. Besides, it would seem you didn’t hear what I said a moment ago.’

‘My apologies, Cadian. What did you say?’

‘That it is not a drone carrier. It’s an assault craft configuration.’

‘Assault?’

‘That’s right.’ The Cadian replied ominously. ‘They are carrying Vespid.’

Codian turned to see Grungi and Torvus staring back at him in silence, their faces tight with concern.

‘Damn. They’ve loosed a strain on our bloody arses.’ The Demiurg snapped, glancing up at the open cupola. Torvus reeled back and brought his mighty hammer up, his teeth bared.

‘Then we will see a good fight before we escape this ill-fated planet.’

Vespid. Codian had heard of these creatures but he had never faced them in combat. Stories had filtered in from the Eastern Fringe of insectoid creatures fighting for the Tau, xenos warriors with the power of personal flight and weapons that could drop a Marine with one shot.

Both Torvus and Grungi’s reaction spoke volumes of how feared these creatures must be, even here in this anarchic future.

He could not help but feel apprehension at what was to happen in the next few minutes.

‘Hnn. Here they come.’ Grungi hissed, watching from beneath the cupola. Codian joined him in time to see the underside of the flyer lower and speeding shapes emerge from the space, angular, alien figures with blurs of fluid light at their backs.

‘Mind those neutron blasters, Marine. They make light work of the thickest armour or the toughest constitution.’

‘Noted.’ He replied, readying his weapons.

The first enemy beam lanced through the hull and speared past Torvus with less than a metre to spare, passing through the entire craft without effort. The thick metal warped and glowed yet did not puncture, at least not at first. The plate grew thin and then seemed to dissipate like evaporating water, leaving smouldering holes as an indicator of its relentless path.

‘God-Emperor…’ Codian breathed.

‘Huh, don’t be too impressed, stalk-leg. The armour of these Tau skiffs is like softwood. I could boot by way through this hull if I had the mind to.’

The Demiurg’s quick dismissal did little to assuage his apprehension. If such a blast could cut through vehicle armour with ease, his own carapace would provide little more resistance.

More blasts speared through the Devilfish from above, causing the three warriors to pin themselves to the walls. Within moments the first heavy footfall rang above them, a sound that caused Grungi to bare his teeth.

‘They are down. Time to reap my quota of shell and flesh.’

He made to climb the cupola dais but Codian stopped him.

‘No, Demiurg. Let them come to us.’

He raised his pistol up and fired on full auto, the bolt shells punching through the roof. Something squealed in a resonating, high-pitched tone and a bulky shadow fell from above, tumbling end over end as it landed on the road behind them.

‘We approach the end of the bridge!’ The Cadian shouted from the cockpit. ‘Another few minutes and we will be clear, His will allowing!’

An inhuman shriek carried through the air and the three warriors turned as one, watching as a dark shape descended before the rear ramp, hanging on shimmering wings. The monstrous blue insectoid pointed its strange rifle at them and fired, sending a stream of shimmering green energy scything through the hold.

Codian and the others threw themselves out of the way and the beam lanced straight down the length of the space and through the open cockpit hatch to burst through the Devilfish’s front screen. The Cadian cried out as the projection there stuttered and died, leaving him with a glowing hole where the craft’s meagre physical viewslit had once sat.

The soldier cursed loudly, his voice heavy with pain at the beam’s searing proximity. A good deal of the Devilfish’s control bank had been reduced to sparking ruin by the shot and the skimmer began to sway and shudder as a consequence. The Cadian’s eyes fell upon the flashing warning diodes before him.

‘We’re losing speed and power! As soon as we’re off this Emperor-damned overpass we’re going to have to abandon this crate!’

‘Then make sure you get us there!’ Codian called back as he raised his pistol and put a dead-shot round through the Vespid’s multi-eyed face.

More and more ringing clangs sounded overhead as the Vespid attackers began to land en-masse, inhuman claws driving into the hull in order to gain purchase. If they felt any loss at the death of their comrade, they did not show it.

The situation was becoming desperate.

‘Stand ready! They are preparing to storm us!’ Grungi bellowed, the familiar clang of his metal fist ringing through the hold as it struck the deck.

The first attacker emerged upside down through the cupola, diamond-hard claws gripping the metal ring as the chitinous abomination pushed its way through. Codian spied a multitude of twinkling eyes burning with malice and he watched as the creature thrust its rifle into the hold and then he fired, shattering its inhuman face.

Grungi lunged at the open side hatch and swung his metal fist into the blurred shape descending there. The creature issued a shrill, inhuman shriek and came apart. Pieces of armoured shell and gobbets of flesh were sucked into the Devilfish’s engine intake and the entire thruster shuddered, a horrific grinding reverberating through the engine. Almost immediately the craft began to lose momentum.

‘Stand fast! I am going to try something!’

Codian heard the soldier call out and glanced towards the cockpit in time to feel the transport begin to quiver beneath him. The shrill stutter of heavy pulse fire sang as the burst cannon flared to life.

He was about to ask the question when the answer came as a ringing thud, and he threw his head around to see the long metallic rod of a glow lamp bouncing away down the road behind them, sparks spiralling from it.

The whine of the burst cannon continued to filter through the rush of passing air and there was another explosive crack. The Devilfish shook and sank rapidly, the interior lights flickering. Another glow lamp bounced down the road behind them. Seconds later and another followed, and then a fourth. Despite being rebounded around the interior of the craft, Codian watched with satisfaction as Vespid fell like rain behind them, smashed from the hull by the falling metal rods.

Despite this temporary victory, the Devilfish continued to slow. That, and as the low, resonating hum of alien wing cases filled the air, he realised that there were still Vespid to slay.

Torvus swayed on his feet but bore on as he strode towards the rear hatch, raising his hammer. His storm shield flared brightly as the first neutron blast struck it squarely at its centre, its powerful field activated by the ray’s kinetic impact. He didn’t give his alien attacker the chance to fire again.

He swung the hammer and smashed the alien from the craft with a single mighty blow, shattering its hardened body like glass.

‘Get us to the end of this Emperor-forsaken bridge!’ He roared, feeling the Devilfish continue to slow.
Even as he spoke, the narrow road suddenly widened and spread, branching off into streets and avenues behind them. The tall buildings of Vanphilos sped past.

They had made it.

‘Hold on!’ The Cadian called.

The punished Devilfish began to decelerate sharply, swerving to a halt by the side of the road. Those few citizens brave or desperate enough to find themselves on the streets scattered in abject terror, running for cover as the scene unfolded.

Grungi leapt eagerly from the side hatch before following Torvus out of the rear of the craft, his weapons ready in his hands. The assault Marine lunged towards one of the xenos warriors lying prone in shock before him and brought his hammer down onto its armoured chest, crushing the life from it.
Behind him Codian spun on his heel and raised his pistol up, blowing another from the roof of the craft.

High above, the Tiger Shark began to come about, realising its prey had slowed.

‘Find cover, now!’

The Cadian flung himself out of the craft behind him, a stolen pulse rifle in his hand. He began to scour his surroundings, trying to decide the next course of action. Within seconds he was sprinting towards the nearest building, firing from the hip as he went. Another Vespid fell, shrieking.

The Chaplain watched the soldier’s exit, adrenalin coursing through him. Grungi and Torvus were still engaged in furious combat with the remaining xenos warriors, a storm of flashing energy and twirling weaponry.

He felt his danger sense flare as he spied another of the foul aliens drop from the roof of the Devilfish and advance upon his brother Marine, its powerful rifle ready in its hands. The beast had him dead in its sights.

By the time he had raised his pistol the Vespid was almost upon the assault Marine. Codian fired and put a bolt through the terrible gun, shattering it to pieces. He fired again and the creature’s arm came away in a puff of splintered chitin, and it took a third to finally bring it down.

Torvus ducked low beneath cruel, raking claws and returned with a piledriver blow, turning his opponent’s torso to wet pulp in a flash of bright energy.

His face was set in a rictus of effort and rage as he threw his body around and flung his weapon into another insectiod attacker, the spinning hammer crushing the alien against the hull of the Tau vehicle.

‘These loathsome fiends face us on equal terms now, brother Chaplain!’ Torvus cried triumphantly, quickly retrieving his thunder hammer.

‘They hesitate in using their weapons…’

He never heard the rest of what the Marine said. Even as the words left Torvus’s lips, the exact same realisation dawned on Codian. The Vespid could have brought them down easily before now and yet they seemed almost restrained, unwilling to use their powerful guns to finish their opponents.

They weren’t here to kill the invaders. They were here to capture them.

[Razor Devil]

Part Thirty One.

From an Unexpected Quarter…


Codian looked up to the skies above the city at the distant Tiger Shark, its broad body glinting beneath the sun as it came about.

‘Another attack run.’

He looked to Torvus, whose eyes were also on the approaching craft.

‘Another strain is on its way, Chaplain. This fight is just beginning.’

‘And we will end it.’ Grungi announced, letting the remains of another Vespid opponent fall from his grasp into a heap at his feet.

‘No.’

The others looked at Codian as they heard this, clearly surprised. The Chaplain pointed out in the direction the soldier had headed.

‘I crave a warrior’s death as much as any, but I am not yet ready to die. I will not meet my end here on this forsaken planet, not while I have a mission of such importance to fulfil. Follow me.’

Torvus nodded without any attempt to disagree. Grungi, predictably, voiced a colourful disapproval.

‘That was an order, Demiurg.’ The Chaplain growled. ‘If we must fall, then we will fall together.’

+++

The sound of the Tiger Shark’s engines shook the windows of the hab-rise as the craft passed overhead. The sun dimmed, the resulting gloom casting deep shadows over Codian and the others. The Chaplain watched the swarm of small shapes emerge from the flyer’s belly and then ducked through the doorway and into the building.

Footsteps echoed through the corridor and the Cadian appeared, slowing as he laid eyes on the others.

‘At last! Come, this way. We have to try and lose them.’

The soldier beckoned the others to follow him and they did so, quickly pushing further into the bowels of the building. Within moments they had passed through several doors and found themselves in a small open yard, surrounded on all sides by towering walls. Various glass-fronted elevators lined the yard, as well as several benches and carefully cultivated topiary plants. All four of them glanced up at the skies as the Tiger Shark passed slowly by above, the noise of its engines funnelling down into the small space.

The Cadian pointed in the direction of an open passageway to the right and began to jog that way. The others followed, their outlandish presence clearly startling the small group of citizens that turned the corner.

‘Stay with the Emperor’s light.’ The Chaplain growled as he passed by the cowering figures. The terrified men and women simply squealed in answer and huddled together, bodies quivering as if boneless with fear.

The Cadian rounded the bend and slowed, pushing himself instinctively towards the wall. The group found themselves in an open reception space, quite narrow but long, stretching out as far as the eye could see. Vast windows dominated the right wall, illuminating the many entranceways and elevators lining the left hand side of the hall.

Screams echoed through the air almost immediately as the people there laid eyes on the imposing group, bodies scattering or simply disappearing behind whatever cover they could find.

‘In here.’

The soldier flung the first door open an they ran through, entering yet another corridor.

‘Where are you leading us? By the time the bugs find us we’ll be little more than spent…’

The rest of the Demiurg’s complaint was lost as muted screams filtered through the hall behind them. The Vespid were on their tail.

‘Keep moving!’ Codian shouted, urging the others on. Grungi was clearly more hesitant than the others, his face alight with anger. Codian snatched to small warrior up and broke into a run, carrying the flailing Demiurg like an unruly child.

‘Find us an exit and soon!’ He urged the Cadian, ignoring Grungi’s protests.

The group broke through into a large garage area, a vast cavern filled with civilian transports. The vehicles lay untouched, abandoned by their owners. Given the current status of the planet, it was little wonder that the streets were so empty.

‘This way!’ The Cadian pointed towards the far end of the garage, to where sunlight could be seen illuminating the road to escape.

The Chaplain released the struggling Demiurg and threw his weapons down. He tore a thick length of pipe from the wall and jammed it through the handle of the door, securing it.

‘That should hold them for a brief time.’ He said, water cascading across his armour. ‘Now go…’

The door began to rattle and shake furiously, spurring the others into action. Within seconds the first neutron beam speared through the thick metal and out across the parking bay, melting a widening hole through the door as it went. The beam disconnected and a clawed hand reached through the glowing hole, searching for the source of the blockage. Codian saw this and put a bolt round through the probing limb, shattering it in a spray of arterial matter.

‘We have to leave! Now!’ The Cadian called, breaking into a sprint towards the open end of the vast space. He had advanced only a few steps when the bright sunlight dimmed and a furious humming began to filter down the exit tunnel.

‘No…’ The soldier whispered, slowing to a standstill.

The Vespid swarmed into the garage, a thick cloud of alien malice.

Codian cursed beneath his breath and loosed another brace of bolt rounds, blasting two of the abominations from the air with practised skill. The human soldier before him threw himself down and rolled behind a shining new six-wheel, neutron beams lancing through the air in his wake. He rose sharply and fired a hail of pulse fire into the advancing aliens, their numbers so thick that he could not fail but to achieve a number of successful hits. The return fire hammered into the parked vehicle, quickly penetrating its metal hide and bursting through around the beleaguered soldier.

‘Into them!’ The Chaplain roared, charging forward. He never once paused to consider the recklessness or futility of the charge. He did not allow doubt or reason to stay his advance. Daelo Codian was a Chaplain of the Ultramarines, and his blood was up.

The words of his mentor, ancient and venerable Chaplain Cassius, oldest and greatest of the Chapter’s spiritual leaders, echoed through his mind.

An Ultramarine does not fear death. An Ultramarine does not shy away from the possibility of his own demise. None of us are invincible, nor indestructible. An Ultramarine embraces his mortality. An Ultramarine knows that it is his destiny to die on the battlefield, his enemies lying heaped about him.

Shine, my brethren, when it is your time to die. Shine with the light of the Throne itself, and know that His eyes will bear witness to that final, ultimate sacrifice.

The words were as fire in his veins, invigorating his muscles and resolve. Utterly devoid of fear, Codian charged across the garage, vaulting vehicles as he advanced. Torvus and Grungi were hot on his heels but they could not catch him. In the blink of an eye he was into the Vespid, his pistol roaring, his crozius flashing and sparking as it tore through alien flesh.

Neutron energy flashed across his vision and he spun violently, his shoulder guard shedding ceramite like cinders from burning wood. He came down hard on the engine shield of a grav-carriage, bending the groaning metal as if it were paper. The vehicle shuddered and spun, crashing into the six-wheel beside it.

Vespid fire punched through the vehicle in his wake, tearing strips from the dormant transport. Codian was already gone.

The nearest alien landed heavily on the roof of the grav-carriage and unleashed a withering barrage of neutron blasts down into the place where the Chaplain fell, only for his shots to slam into the bare rockcrete. Codian ascended at the far side of the vehicle and smashed the Vespid from its feet, shattering both its legs with his awesome power weapon. The creature fell back and Codian finished it with a final blow, taking its head from its shoulders with an executioner’s blow.

‘Sell yourselves dearly!’ He cried, killing again and again until his clip ran empty.

Torvus and Grungi charged into the alien mass, roaring their anger out across the garage. The huge Marine’s storm shield flashed and pulsed again and again as it turned the Vespid swarm’s deadly blasts aside. He charged into the fray, swinging his mighty hammer from left to right. Inhuman screams pierced the air as bodies fell, shattered and broken, organic fluids misting in the air.

The Demiurg skipped lightly over the low roofs of the gathered transports, swinging his weapon-fist around his head. He leapt into the enemy without fear, smashing bodies apart.

‘A magnificent day!’ He howled elatedly, his ruddy skin coated with Vespid filth. ‘My tally soars! The Halls of Rememberance will echo with Tales of Thurgus Grungi until the stars themselves dim!’

Grungi leapt up into the air and flipped back, his glowing power weapon arcing brightly through the air around him. He landed expertly on his feet amid a sticky visceral mist and continued to lunge and thrash, each blow seeming wild and yet more practised and precise than it appeared.

Codian waited until the Demiurg Slayer had bounded by and then holstered his spent pistol. He lowered himself onto one knee and thrust his free hand beneath the vehicle. Summoning all his strength, he rose sharply and flipped the car, sending it tumbling into the advancing Vespid.

‘For Ultramar and the Imperium!’ He shouted, vaulting the upturned transport in a single bound. His crozius crackled as it cleaved through armour and shell, its power unstoppable.

The inhuman Vespid were fast and powerful opponents, bred for strength and war, and though they faced a mighty foe, the outcome was inevitable.

The Cadian cried out as his weapon was torn from his grasp by raking claws and sent spinning away. He fell on his back and raised his fists, ready to defend himself. His alien attacker landed above him, its clawed feet digging into the rockcrete either side of him. Strong arms wrapped around his shoulders and hauled him up into the air, the deep humming of his captor’s wings roaring in his ears.

He heard Codian call from within the whirling chitinous mass but he could not see him. Torvus and the Demiurg were also lost in the midst of the Vespid mass, little more than flashes of swirling energy and glinting metal surrounded by alien flesh.

Caught in the vice-like grip of the xenos, he felt himself being carried towards the exit of the garage, captive and helpless. With no other options left to him, he closed his eyes and began to pray.

The air seemed to whisper as it rushed past his ears. He opened his eyes as his alien subjugator shuddered and slowed. A series of wet metallic hisses drew his eyes up and he watched as the Vespid’s head began to vibrate, chitin sloughing away from it in swift, bloodied puffs. By the time he had realised that the xenos was dead he found himself released from its grip to fall to the floor, viscera-mist pattering against his skin.

Grateful and confused in equal measure, he quickly hauled himself to his feet and looked back to the fight behind him, ignorant to the wall of xenos flesh surrounding him. The whine of neutron rifles rose to a crescendo all around him…

Then the grenades came.

A barrage of small projectiles skipped and bounced across the garage towards the Cadian and the surrounding Vespid. Each one of the smooth conical grenades came to rest before the strain, spinning madly beneath their hovering feet. A sea of twinkling eyes fell as one, finding the curious ornate objects as they began to whine in harmony, the tiny runes carved into their surfaces blinking with an increasing regularity.

The Cadian’s eyes widened and he raised his arms instinctively, acting on impulse despite the futility of the action.

The Vespid around him simply looked on as the grenades reached critical mass and exploded.

Vespid tumbled from the air like rain amid the blinding display, dragged down by the fluctuating gravity. Weapons were dragged from their grasp and limbs were pinned to the floor, held fast. Those xenos on the ground stumbled and fell; emitting clicks and screeches as they crashed down.

Codian froze as he watched the attack unfold, his mind racing. The air inside the vast garage grew suddenly colder, a drop of several degrees registering on his helm readout and the base of his skull began to vibrate, his usually keen perception distorting for a moment. He recognised the symptoms immediately for what they represented.

It was the psychic touch of a witch.

Bright, flickering images seemed to bleed from the air itself at the far end of the garage to spread like a wet stain amongst the gathered vehicles. Each time he attempted to focus on any area of activity the phenomenon faded, reappearing several feet away in every direction. An omnipresent whispering saturated the air, indistinct and incoherent and he felt his pulses quicken, sensing the conflict to come.

‘What trickery is this?’ He heard Torvus whisper in disgust behind him.

The Chaplain could not answer. His grip tightened around the haft of his ancient weapon as he started forward, preparing to face this new threat.

A shape ghosted past him and he stalled, catching sight of something he struggled to make sense of. A face, a mask, there one moment and gone the next, its void-like eyes finding his before fading into nothing. A dream-glimpse, a hallucination.

‘Prophet.’ An echoing, ethereal voice whispered from everywhere at once.

A heartbeat later, the Vespid began to die.

[Razor Devil]

Part Thirty Two.

The Masque.


Codian turned, almost ponderously, and watched as the Vespid warriors at the head of the attacking strain began to shudder and break apart, armoured bodies turning to blood-mist before his eyes. The aliens responded almost immediately, loosing bright angry blasts of neutron radiation indiscriminately out into the garage, panicked by the unexpected attack.

The strange colours and shapes flickering at the edges of his perception danced and swirled around the powerful blasts like living, glittering mist. He caught sight of a figure, lithe, tall and agile, weaving and ducking as it avoided the probing fire before sinking back into obscurity, ghosting into nothing once more. The Vespid mass continued to thrash and die before him, shredded by the whispering enemy fire.

He shook himself and gathered his thoughts, fresh adrenaline surging through him. Whatever was happening here, it had provided them with a chance. The Tau-loving abominations were reeling and in disarray.

He started forward, accelerating into a bounding run. A powerful leap saw him carried into the Vespid lines and he swung his crozius arcanum through the packed alien flesh, the powerful field generated by the ancient weapon disintegrating everything it touched. The glowing, bejewelled barrel of an alien gun rose to meet his violent attack and he quickly wrapped his fingers around the weapon. He tore it free of its owner’s grasp and smashed it into the face of the xenos, shattering weapon and visage alike. He swept the beloved power weapon before him and shattered a line of threatening rifles, the crystals contained within their barrels shattering like glass. He kicked out and felt another body break beneath his boot. Every action saw another warrior of the enemy dead.

Something indistinct yet tangible brushed by him and he swung his fist out instinctively, catching the hurtling shape with a glancing backhand blow. The thing let out a cry of pained surprise and skittered across the floor, coalescing as it tumbled end over end. As he watched, the shape came to rest, flickering into being to reveal a slender, kneeling humanoid.

The shock of its sudden emergence caused him to take a step back, raising his weapon instinctively. The creature turned its eyes towards him and spoke, its voice high and melodic, its words incomprehensible.

The thing was a riot of colour and motion, the gaudy design of its tight bodysuit nauseating to behold. Its masked face swam, writhing with glittering light and fluid energy. Several others stepped from the air to surround it and then were gone again in the blink of an eye, little more than broken motes of shifting transparent light dancing around the cumbersome insectoid aliens.

‘What are you?’ Codian growled and stepped forward, his thrumming weapon casting an azure glow over his black armour. The creature responded by quickly removing something from its belt and casting it at his feet. The Chaplain barely had time to look down at the spinning disc before it exploded, sending his world plunging into darkness.

The world flashed briefly and then was gone again, light and sound surging forth only to dissipate. The soundless blackness returned, hot and suffocating. He was on his back and paralysed, his power armour unresponsive and dead. He gritted his teeth and raised his arm, fighting the weight of the thick carapace surrounding him. The ancient suit of armour that had protected him and saved his life in countless was now useless to him, a leaden weight encasing his body.

Light flashed again, and this time stayed, albeit grainy and stuttering. He felt the power pack fixed to his back shudder as it activated once more and diagnostic warning runes began to stream past his eyes, scrolling thick and fast as they listed the affected systems of his armour.

Motive power began to return to the inner fibre bundles, allowing him to begin to move. He rolled onto his chest and retrieved his crozius, its power field deactivated and dead.

He soon came to realise that the explosive device the creature had attacked him with had been some sort of electromagnetic pulse emitter, clearly designed to incapacitate but not harm him.

He did not let this fact dissipate the rising anger within his soul.

Codian hauled himself to his feet as the shadow of Torvus loomed over him.

‘Chaplain?’

He pushed the Marine aside and activated his crozius once again, anger seething in the burning pits of his skull-helm.

‘You waste time, Marine. Never hesitate to end the lives of your enemy.’

He started forward, only to find the haft of Torvus’s thunder hammer barring his way.

‘With respect, Chaplain, hold. This is not our fight.’

Codian’s hand closed around the haft and he wrenched it aside, his anger boiling to the surface.

‘Not our fight? You dare..?’

‘This is not our fight.’ Torvus repeated, his voice taking on a more serious tone. He turned his face aside as a large chunk of Vespid chitin spun past and then thrust his hammer out at the melee.

‘Both the Cadian and the Demiurg are gone, Chaplain. The attackers have taken them. We have to make our escape now if we are to survive this fight. We retreat now or we die.’

Gone? The sudden pang of loss within surprised him. Mourning traitors and xenos, the very suggestion would have would have seen the culprit laid low before he had awoken in this terrible time. For the first time since he had opened his eyes onboard the escape boat, Codian realised he had come to regard the two beings as allies.

‘We fight.’ He uttered, focusing his rage. ‘And if it is our time to fall, then we will fall. I am sick of running from this enemy, Torvus. I will run no longer.’

Before the Marine had time to argue, Codian surged forward and barged into the fight, driving his weapon through the reeling alien swarm. The Vespid were by now in complete rout, hampered by the relentless assault of the mysterious attackers.

‘Prophet.’
He shuddered as he heard the ethereal voice, the sound gusting through his soul like a draught. He heard Torvus cry out in surprise and when he turned to look for the warrior, there was no sign of him.

‘Torvus!’

The assault Marine had vanished from sight. The few surviving Vespid were broken and put to flight, heading for the exit, but Torvus was not held captive among them.

‘Torvus, answer me!’ He demanded, activating his vox. Static hissed in his ear, his only reply. The mysterious attackers had to be the ones responsible for his disappearance.

He sensed eyes burning into him from every angle, whispered voices thick in the air. Now that the Vespid were gone, he knew he would be next.

Codian’s warrior senses were honed by countless years of combat. A mind dedicated to strategy and tactics of combat surveyed the scene, running through every possible scenario.

He had seen how these intangible abominations had torn the Vespid apart. Strength and implacability would not see him victorious here. Whatever these creatures were, they were tricky, agile and incredibly fast. They confounded the eye and the mind with their witch abilities.

No, strength and resolve would not win this fight. Escape was also impossible; he knew that with a grim and utter certainty. The Vespid survivors had fled this place only because this new and monstrous enemy had allowed it.

There was however one single, if precarious, factor for him to consider an advantage in this situation. They wanted him alive. Unseen, the gesture hidden by the flickering spectres surrounding him, Codian smiled a humourless, predatory smile.

‘I will not be taken.’ He uttered, straightening his back. He lifted his crozius and held it out before him, turning in a slow arc.

‘I will not be taken.’ He repeated, stepping forward. ‘I am an Astarte, a son of the Emperor of mankind. I am His word given voice, His vengeance given form. I do not know who or what you are, and I care even less. Return those you have taken and leave. Do not risk my anger.’

The shimmering apparitions before him flickered, but did nothing apparent. He thought he could hear whispering at the very edge of his enhanced hearing, a high, sibilant chatter barely perceptible even to an Astarte.

‘Bring. Them. Back.’ He growled, emphasising each word with a low and ominous tone.

‘Prophet.’ A voice answered in perfect high gothic despite its strange, inhuman tone. ‘Come with us.’

‘I asked you twice. I will ask no more.’ Codian spat, spreading his arms wide in challenge. ‘Take me if you dare.’

The challenge was met.

The living shadows shifted and Codian spun to meet the expected attack, raising his arms swiftly. Something shining and incredibly swift rang as it glanced off his armoured vambraces and he stepped back defensively, sparks flashing before his eyes once again.

He brought the crozius up and parried several lighting-fast blows, impulse and practised deduction bringing success again and again until the ghost-blade glanced off his shoulder guard and turned him aside, throwing his balance.

The Chaplain allowed the momentum to spin him around and he thrust his weapon out like a knife, its winged head flaring as it struck something solid. Shards of glittering multi-coloured light burst before him and swam like liquid into the outline of a humanoid figure, the shape stumbling beneath the blow. The figure fell to its knees and then dissipated once more, its pain a palpable, skin-tingling sensation.

Another attack came, again from behind. Codian fell to his knees and twisted, reaching out to grab the oncoming attacker. His first attempt was turned aside with each, the blow weak in comparison yet executed with consummate skill. He brought the crozius around and attempted to smash the attacker away but struck nothing save for empty air.

‘Cowards!’ He roared, rising to his feet once more. He thrust his fingers through the glass of the nearest vehicle door and, gripping the metal tight, hauled it free of its moorings. He twisted at the waist and hurled the projectile out before him, watching as the swirling, blinking colours swam around and past the spinning metal.

‘Show yourselves! Face me as warriors of honour would! Face me, or I will fight to the death here in this damned place! Do you hear me, coward-filth? Reveal yourselves!’

Something small and hollow-sounding plinked at his feet and he looked to the floor as the grenade skittered to a stop at his feet.

‘Not again.’ He uttered, drawing his leg back and booting the device away. The explosive device slammed into the rockcrete wall at the far end of the garage and exploded, a shockwave of shimmering white light spreading out from it. Even as the grenade detonated more fell at his feet and Codian threw himself over the bonnet of a sleek speeder, the expensive skimmer squealing in protest as he reshaped its lithe curves with his immense weight. They all detonated in sequence, their cumulative effect denied.

Hidden from sight, Codian withdrew his pistol and slammed a fresh clip into the breach. He rose quickly and emptied his magazine out into the space beyond, bolt rounds screaming through the air. Something cried out and fell, coalescing as it crashed to the ground.

‘Keep trying!’ Codian shouted, ejecting the spent clip. ‘I will kill you all or fall in the process!’

He heard a series of light footfalls skipping across the floor and the speeder dipped once, so slightly he barely noticed it.

It was enough.

Codian drew himself into a ball and twisted quickly, feeling the depleted force of the anticipated impact slide across his power pack. He brought the pistol around and drove it down, the thick metal connecting with a satisfying crunch. The broken, shimmering cloud quivered and solidified at his feet and he drove his foot down into the mass, feeling bones snap beneath his boot.

He straightened and glared out at the shifting colours, his red eyes blazing.

‘I can do this all day.’ He began.

‘That would not be wise.’ A voice answered, and he watched as a shape detached itself from the shifting mists and advanced. Glittering ghost lights flickered and swam as they swirled into a central point, colours bleeding together to form the outline of a body. Shards of every colour imaginable were pulled into the materializing anomaly until the creature itself seemed to step from behind reality itself to be revealed, the air bending and sliding over it like a veil.

The tall being glanced either side of it at the surrounding ghost images and then at Codian. The activity behind it faded away to nothing almost immediately, leaving Codian and the mysterious figure to face one another alone.

The creature was tall, almost as tall as the Marine. It was clad in a dazzling bodyglove of multicoloured diamonds, and wore a thick jacket bedecked with ruffles and frills. Its grinning mask shimmered, the leering visage pulse with a living luminescence.

‘At last, a measure of courage.’ The Chaplain sneered.

‘Come with us.’

‘Not a chance. Return my comrades to me and I will allow you and your spectres to leave this place unharmed. Deny me and I will fight until my final breath.’

The enigmatic creature shook its head softly and pointed the tip of its alien blade out at the exit, its every movement fluid and graceful, like those of a dancer.

‘Extend your mind beyond the borders of your own perceptions, mon-keigh.’ The being sang, its voice clipped and melodic.

‘Dissolve those barriers of xenophobic conditioning and unfold. All this…’ The figure gestured about him.

‘Is a puzzle consisting of many parts. The pieces move to complete it. You and I, we are but the foci of a single scene. We are not your enemy, Prophet. We are here to facilitate your deliverance.’

‘Enough riddles.’ Codian snarled. ‘I have been hunted and hounded from the moment I opened my eyes here in this damned time. I will run no longer.’

‘So blunt.’ The creature answered with regret. ‘So blinkered. I leave you a three choices then, Prophet. Fight me, walk away, or follow. We already know the outcome of your decision.’

With that the creature raised his hand and gestured. The shadows surrounding the garage interior warped and flickered then came to life, the outlines of a score of bodies shining as they coalesced. Codian looked on as many more of the alien abominations stepped from the air as one, revealing themselves.

A howl of displaced air and a low, rumbling thud resonated through the cavernous space. A bright, blinding corona of light swirled into being, tearing a rend in the air itself. Once the anomaly had stabilised the figures began to step into it, one by one.

Codian’s jaw tightened as he watched his options fading away. He knew he had no way of leaving the planet alive. His mind swam with indecision as he fought to understand what was happening to him, and why he had been referred to as the Prophet more than once. First the Nicassar, and now this gaudy creature.

He knew, even now, that reinforcements were swarming their way towards his position. His comrades were gone, taken by the deadly spectres.

‘Damn you.’ He whispered, staring out at the slowly-spinning vortex of black light. All other choices gone, Daelo Codian began to walk slowly towards his destiny.

[Razor Devil]

Part Thirty Three.

The Last Bastion.


+++THE PHALANX, FORTRESS MONASTERY+++
+++ALLIANCE IMPERIALIS SOLAR MOBILE HEADQUARTERS+++
+++GEHENNAN SYSTEM+++
+++SEGMENTUM SOLAR+++

The Phalanx shook violently, the tremor causing the eyes of Uriel Ventris to snap open. He attempted to sit up, but found he could not. He swayed as the massive vessel rocked again, another dull, thunderous explosion resonating through every surrounding bulkhead.

‘Ancient. You are awake.’

He heard the strained, augmented voice and glanced to his side to see the towering, black-clad Terminator standing over him.

‘Lord Cassius…’ He uttered, recognising the ancient being standing over him.

Cassius was a truly antediluvian warrior, close to a thousand years old. The Alliance’s Master of Sanctity, it was Cassius who had bestowed the honour of Ancient upon Ventris. Is was Cassius who had masterminded the formation of the Alliance, who had ordered the internment of Calgar and had seen him appointed as the Warmaster.

He had taken the mighty Terminator armour of Calgar’s as his own after the former Chapter Master’s near death defending Ultramar. The centuries of warfare and the countless injuries he had sustained fighting the enemies of the Emperor had taken their toll on the venerable warrior. Now the armour was a permanent fixture, his life-support as well as his protection.

Cassius was a living relic of the Astartes, revered and idolised by all those under him. His mighty form was protected by veritable net of rosarius field generators, each one of the powerful, bejewelled crosses welded to his armour donated from the Reclusium of the various Chapters joined to the Alliance.

The presence of so many rosariae caused the ancient warrior to emit a dry and constant thrumming crackle, the noise deepening with every gesture or movement, the cumulative protective qualities of the generators a testament to how badly the Alliance as a whole needed him to stay alive.

‘Rest, young Ventris.’ The ancient Chaplain said. ‘Allow your body to mend. You have been tested mightily, and you must regain your strength.’

The Master of Sanctity’s voice seemed almost as ethereal as it was mechanical, emanating as it did from the small brass vox speaker set into his larynx. Indeed, most of Cassius’s face had been ravaged by war. By visage alone, he was the epitome of an Astartes Chaplain.

Most of the flesh of his face had been scoured away over the countless centuries and the bone of his skull had been plated over with shining silver. The sockets of his long lost eyes now held deep glowing crimson augmetics, their baleful stare enough to cause the hardiest warrior to quail.

Ventris dismissed the aches and pains saturating his body and tried once more to rise, only to find one of Cassius’ huge hands placed gently on his chest.

‘You are…broken, Ancient. Your back is shattered and several of your organs are ruptured. You will live, though the Apothecaries cannot even begin to restore you until we are out of danger.’

The Ancient let his head fall back against the operating table and he emitted a long, impatient sigh. Everything that had passed before his fall flooded back into his mind. Shame racked his punished body, more painful than any injury.

Cassius turned away, sensing his comrade’s pain.

‘The…the Saint…’ Ventris began. ‘She cheated me. She used her powers to…’

‘I know what she did, Uriel. She saved your life. Cloelia Argaenta has fallen, son. The Endymion gave her life in the defence of Gehenna. She will be mourned by all.’

‘No! She cannot be dead! She was to be the inspiration, the crux of our victory.’

Cassius glowing eyes found the Ancient once again as the huge vessel shook around them, the light guttering and dimming for a moment.

‘No, Ancient. The Endymion’s fate was to fall on Gehenna. It was foreseen in the Tarot. Rest now, warrior. We will need your strength in the coming days.’

Ventris raised his hands to his head and gripped it tightly, fighting the waves of despair coursing through him. Once again, the defence of the Alliance had been denied. Once again the borders of the Imperium had been thrust back.

Gehenna had been the last of the border worlds. Now, only the Terran system remained.

He whispered a quiet oath of fortitude beneath his breath and sought to quiet his reeling mind, struggling to centre his humours. Here, laid immobile and prone as he was, he couldn’t help but feel a helplessness weighing on his soul.

‘Lord Cassius, tell me. What of the forces that were engaged on Gehenna? How do they fare?’

‘We are beaten and bloodied, my son, but our strength remains. Lord Calgar made the decision to withdraw after the death of the Saint in order to facilitate the defence of Terra. The Sororitas, however, would not withdraw. They stayed to fight the Unity unto the death. The demise of the Endymion hit them hard. Their sacrifice allowed the rest of the Alliance to withdraw largely unscathed.

‘We may have lost Gehenna, but thanks to the sacrifice of the Sororitas we move to bolster the defence of Terra. The defences of Saturn will stall the Unity’s advance long enough to allow us to prepare for the final push on our capital world. The majority of the fleet will stay to add their strength to Saturn’s might, allowing us to join the defenders of Terra. They will not take the Throne without a fight.’

Ventris could not begin to take in what he was hearing. He could not believe that they had reached this point. There was nowhere left to run. With Gehenna secure, the damned Tau would soon be crossing the border into the Terran system itself. They were literally at the gates.

It was then that another thought seeped into his mind. He opened his eyes and looked to Cassius, his weathered brow furrowing with consideration.

‘My lord Chaplain.’ He began, his voice fraught with intrigue. ‘What of the Warmaster?’

‘Cassius looked at him as he heard this, the collective fields protecting him fizzing as he moved.

‘Calgar? He is well, Ancient, if not troubled by the desperation of our circumstances. He currently meditates in slumber, awaiting reactivation upon our arrival at Saturn.’

‘Forgive me Chaplain, but you misunderstand. I would have expected to see the Warmaster here. Instead, I open my eyes to see you. I sense that there is more at play here than a simple desire on your part to see how I fare. You are the greatest spiritual leader of all the Astartes, brother. I know why you are here.’

Cassius froze, his mighty form standing rigid as a statue. His terrible eyes blazed, their cold, burning light intensifying. The mighty digits of the twin gauntlets of Ultramar tightened, the ancient metal squealing as it was compressed.

‘Was it him? By all that is sacred, brother, tell me. Was it him? Was it the Primarch?’

After a lengthy pause, Ventris slowly nodded his head. His age-old features creased with sorrow and regret as he spoke, the words tumbling painfully from his mouth.

‘It was him. Blessed Macragge, but it was him. I know this with utter certainty, Chaplain. I have looked upon the face of our Primarch too many times to count. I know our father. I cannot say how it is the damned Tau have resurrected him, or how it is that they have managed to corrupt our most blessed father. All I know is that it was Roboute Guilliman that I faced out there. They have the Primarch, Chaplain. They have him. He fights for the Unity.’

Cassius reeled as he heard this, his back arching.

‘No!’ He cried, spinning around and smashing a medicae console from its mooring. ‘It cannot be! It cannot be him! It has to be a mistake…’

‘There is no mistake. It was the Primarch, Chaplain. They have taken him and perverted his honour. The Unity has somehow convinced him that we are the enemy, that the Imperium has been corrupted in his absence. He fights for the Tau.’

‘No…’ Cassius answered again, this time softer, his voice filled with despair. ‘Damn the Tau. Damn their xenos hides into the warp.’

The giant warrior-priest crossed the chamber and came to rest, his face hidden from view, his mighty fists resting against the bulkhead.

‘What happened, Uriel? In their youth, the Tau were such honourable foes. What happened to change them so? I have fought these aliens since the beginning, and it would seem that they have yet to find a boundary they would not cross.’

He looked to the Ancient once again, his vast black form hidden in shadow, his terrible eyes blazing through the gloom.

‘How is it that they could do what we could not? In just over half a millennium they have all but conquered the galaxy. They have faced and beaten every foe they have encountered, young Uriel, and we are the last. They have done the impossible time and time again. How? The Emperor curse their damned name, how?’

‘They adapt.’ Ventris answered after a lengthy pause. ‘They change, they grow. Do not ask me how they do so, for I could not answer. All I know is that they do. It is almost as if they have the answers already. Somehow, they are able to determine an enemy’s greatest weakness and use it to defeat them. It is as if…as if they are programmed to win.’

‘They have corrupted the blessed Primarch, Ancient. It would seem that no goal lies beyond their insidious reach.’

Ventris felt a sudden shiver of unease pass through him upon hearing the Chaplain’s words. Cassius was the living embodiment of the Astartes’ spiritual strength and boundless resolve. He was a figure that even the mighty Calgar looked to for support and guidance. Uriel Ventris had known Cassius for literally hundreds of years. The venerated Chaplain had always been a figure of awe to him, from initiate to battle brother, to captain and finally to Ancient.

This was the first time he had ever heard the Master of Sanctity speak with sadness or doubt in his voice. There descended a protracted and awkward silence, and Ventris found himself struggling to find his next words.

As it was, he didn’t have to break the silence. After many long moments of personal prayer, with the sounds of the space-borne war raging around them, the Master of Sanctity raised his bowed head and made the sign of the Aquila across his chest.


‘Steel yourself, young Ventris, and prepare yourself for the war ahead. This will be our final stand, warrior. We will need your strength for the final fight for Terra. Ave Imperator.’

‘Ave Imperator.’ Ventris answered, banging his fist against his armoured chest in salute.

With that, Cassius left the medicae chamber and Ancient Uriel Ventris alone with his thoughts.

+++

‘Master Calgar, I woul…peak…ith you.’

The massive blue monolith shifted as the tinny voice crackled over his inbuilt vox system, stuttered and broken by static, no doubt a product of the gunfire assailing the Phalanx.

‘Cassius.’ The Warmaster uttered, his augmetic voice deep as thunder. ‘You have spoken with him?’

‘I have. It…onfirmed. The Un…ve the Primarch. Roub…lliman…’

He never heard the rest of the broken communiqué. Calgar roared in anger and spread his metal arms, rotating his mighty Dreadnought chassis on its axis. Sparks flew amid the screech of squealing metal as he tore through the walls surrounding him, rage exploding from him like a living force.

‘No!’

His mighty voice echoed down the ancient halls of the vast vessel, a voice heavy with disbelief and pain despite its synthetic tone.

+It is true, Warmaster. The blessed Primarch is reborn to the enemy. I have seen it through the eyes of the Ancient.+

The ethereal voice drifted through his mind, stalling his fury with its icy touch. Calgar fell still, turning his sarcophagus toward the pale emerald light emanating from the view slit of the thick chamber door at the end of the dark, featureless corridor.

‘So it is confirmed then?’ He uttered, debris falling around his mighty form. ‘Our worst fears have been realised, brother. The gene-father is awake, restored by the Unity.’

+Yes.+ The voice answered, seeming to come from everywhere at once. +The Primarch has risen, there can be no mistake. Yet there is hope.+

‘Hope? Explain.’

+The Endymion’s death awoke something within him.+ The voice continued, the light streaming from the chamber pulsing softly at each psychic word.

+I cannot explain it, brother Calgar. All I know is that, somehow, her death on Gehenna was necessary, was meant to be. The Saint sacrificed herself intentionally. All this I have divined from the mind of the Ancient, using Cassius’s eyes as my own. I saw it, the imprint left upon his soul. Cloelia left her mark upon him, her legacy. She is gone, her wings spread wide, her soul unconfined. Emperor, did you not feel her release?+

‘I felt…something.’ The Warmaster answered, almost hesitantly. Something passed through the ship. The Astropaths called it an Astronomicon surge. Its like has never been experienced before.’

+Yes. It was this that stirred me from by vigil-slumber. Something is happening to out there, Warmaster. There has been a quickening. Something is awoken.+

Calgar heard this and stomped down the corridor towards the hatch, the floor quaking beneath each mighty footfall. He reached the source of the glow and placed one huge paw upon the thick metal.

‘Awoken? Explain.’

+I cannot, brother. Whatever machinations have been set into motion by the death of the Saint, they are much, much older than even you or I. I sense plans and preparations that have lain dormant since our Emperor walked upon the worlds of the Imperium coming to fruition. Life itself stirs, Calgar. The depths of ancient times stretch out before me, a chasm of possibility. It would seem that my mind was not created to understand its significance.+

The Warmaster’s powerful fingers tightened, driving deep grooves into the inches-thick adamantium. Try as he might, he could make no sense of the voice’s prophetic words. All he could do now was trust, trust in the divinations of his brother and advisor, just as he always had.

‘Tell me then, brother. What is to be our next course of action? Even now the fleet speeds towards Saturn. What can you see of the path ahead?’

+All paths lead to the end, Warmaster. The Unity hammers its fists against the Gates of Terra. It is a challenge every last one of us must rise and respond to. Go now, and prepare. When the time comes I will stand with you, brother, shoulder to shoulder. As it always was.+

‘As it always was.’ Calgar answered, withdrawing his limb. ‘Farewell then, Tigurius. Until we meet again on the soil of Terra to make our final stand.’

With that, the mighty Warmaster shifted his bulk away from the emerald glow, sank into the shadows, and was gone.

[Razor Devil]

Part Thirty Three.

Lost.


He opened his eyes and the nausea hit him like a wall. He dry retched, impulsively reaching up to remove his helmet and then paused, discipline winning over instinct.

His body and mind fought against the effects of the unnatural reality of this place, his eyes watering and aching, his mind churning. He tried as best he could to assess his surroundings and yet found he could not. Even though he could see and hear perfectly, he found his mind unable to process the information it was receiving.

Everything about this place was wrong.

‘Do not fight it. You are not designed to understand, mon-keigh. The geometries of the Webway will settle in time.’

‘The Webway…’ Codian echoed ominously, glancing around him at the swirling energies. As soon as he heard this, a glimmer of recognition formed in his roiling mind. His gaze found the tall creature by his side.

‘So you are Eldar then, xenos. Curious.’

The figure cocked his head quizzically to one side.

‘I was lead to believe the Eldar race had long since abandoned the galaxy.’

‘Truth is never straightforward, mon-keigh. Answers are complex by their very nature. Your species has always struggled to comprehend that.’

Codian sighed deeply and shook his head.

‘Such arrogance. Such contempt. I know little of your kind, Eldar, and I have no desire to learn more. Regard me with all the disdain you like, alien. If you wish to communicate with me, then speak plainly.’

It was the Eldar’s turn to express frustration. The being emitted a harsh hiss of contempt and glared at him, the eyes of his mask flashing a palpably hostile light.

‘There are few of us with patience or tolerance enough to communicate with the brute races…’

‘Khatheir.’

The alien paused and stared out into the abyss of the roiling void-tunnel beyond as he heard the voice. Then he was gone, his body absorbed into the fluid energy of the tunnel walls in an instant.

‘Codian.’

He looked ahead of him to see another Eldar standing at the centre of the ethereal tunnel. The warrior, a female this time, wore a similar brightly-coloured bodyglove over which was draped a loose-fitting, hooded tunic. The Eldar’s featureless mask was a smooth, flawless mirror of quicksilver, shifting and rippling with incomprehensible energies.

A strange, warm sensation crept into his mind, like warm liquid seeping through his brain. He felt his body relax a little, as if the thick layers of hatred and xenophobia his countless years of service had deposited around his soul began to soften and slough away.

‘I feel you in my mind, witch. I will brook no such foul intrusion.’ He snarled.

In response to this the witch waved a hand and the sensation drained away, though a little of the warmth remained.

‘It was merely my intention to render you more receptive to my presence. I apologise for the abruptness of Khatheir. He is unused to dealing with what he deems to be agents of the ‘lesser-races.’ We have gone to great troubles to locate and retrieve you, Codian. We have a great many things to discuss. There can be no room for the old animosities and conflicts of interest that have passed between our two races. Now is the time to unify.’

Codian’s physical response spoke for him. He took a step back, his hands reaching for his weapons. They were gone. In fact, he couldn’t even remember deactivating and holstering his crozius.

‘See.’ The Eldar whispered, opening her hand towards him. ‘If we had wished you harm at any point, you would not be stood before me. Let this gesture show that we two are not at war, Codian. No longer can the Mon-keigh and the Eldar afford to indulge their differences. Ours is a truce forged through necessity.’

‘So, there is an armistice between us? Forgive me, xenos, if I am hesitant to accept such a claim. I have witnessed a great many changes since my reanimation, but a peace between the Imperium and the Eldar? I cannot imagine such a situation.’

The xenos psyker fell silent then, the myriad colours of the swirling Webway dancing across her slender body. She seemed to be regarding him, weighing him up.

‘I see it.’ She finally answered, tilting her head forward slowly and gently. ‘Yes, I see it clearly within you. You are the one, Codian. It is time.’

The Chaplain started forward as he heard this, his fists tightening.

‘Enough of this damned mystery! I will be goaded no longer, xenos sow…’
The tunnel stretched and spread about him, the energies swirling and spinning wildly in the blink of a eye. His breath caught in his throat and he stumbled, taken aback by the sudden change.

He looked on in stark bewilderment as the a wide darkness spread all about him, a featureless void that felt as infinite as it did cold, like being lost in the trackless depths of deep, starless space.

Instinct urged him to call out in shock but he did not. Instead he gritted his teeth and forced his mind to focus, to fight the indescribable confusion assailing him. He would not be laid low by the infernal machinations of the Eldar.

+Codian…+ The alien female’s voice called to him in his mind, the thought-sound distant and cold like hoarfrost draft blowing through his skull.

+Codian-Prophet, centre yourself…You are in no danger…The illusory stuff of the Webway merely shifts to accommodate your primitive mind’s eye…+

He ignored the voice and pushed out, willing his feet to feel solid ground beneath them. The Eldar was still standing before him, hanging there as if in space. Her mirrored face swirled and swam as if in sympathy to his plight, myriad colours playing across its surface like oil slick.

‘What is happening, witch? Answer me!’

+I cannot, Codian, nor was it ever my destiny to do so. No, we each have our place, as was determined millennia ago. Open your eyes if you truly seek answers, Codian. Open your eyes to the truth ahead. He would have an audience.+

Relentless waves of confusion battered against his mind, threatening to tear his very sanity from its moorings. This was all too much to take in, to assess with the cold, analytical mind of an Astarte…

He froze, the thought echoing through his brain. Perhaps he was the problem. Perhaps it was his own, logical mindset that was causing this maelstrom of chaos around him to intensify. He realised then that to fight, to struggle to find reason or sense here, was utterly futile. There was no sense to be made of this damned, Emperor-forsaken place, he could see that now.

He relaxed his mind and let go, allowing the turmoil around him to thicken and intensify, no longer fighting its inconceivable geometries.

‘Brother Chaplain. At last. At long last.’

Codian opened his eyes and the endless screaming stopped. He had never even realised the presence of the terrible sound until it was gone, replaced instead by the cold, deafening void of silence.

He blinked. Stupefied, he blinked again. Everything had changed.

‘Emperor, bolster my fortitude.’ He whispered, staring out at his surroundings.

The Webway was gone. The cold, endless void too. Incredibly, he found himself within the gloomy confines of the escape boat, the same vessel that had seen him saved from the destruction of the Guilliman’s Wrath.

Several things had changed since had had last been onboard the vessel. The ring of escape chairs now empty and clean, the remains of his comrades long gone. There was no patina of age or dust within the cramped confines of it interior. Everything seemed sterile, untouched.

Not real.

The voice. He came to life with a start, as if the presence of the voice had only just registered within him.

‘Who speaks? Show yourself.’

‘Open your eyes, Chaplain. I am here.’

Codian did not answer immediately. Almost as soon as the rebuke entered his mind, the figure was there. The man was standing directly in front of him, one hand resting upon the headrest of the chair Berolinus had taken. It was as if the figure had been stood in the same place for some time, and the Chaplain’s eyes had only just registered his presence.

The figure was human, there was no doubt about that. Codian found he couldn’t determine his age, though judging by the lines around his eyes and mouth, he wasn’t a young man.

His long raven hair was swept back, a single white stripe running from the left-hand side of his forehead right back to simple knot at the base of his skull. He wore a neat, trimmed beard grown to a sharp point

His garb was uninspiring, if not recognisably Imperial. He wore a loose suit of black with silver trim, and on his gloved fingers he sported a number of elaborate silver rings, each one set with a different coloured stone.

‘What new trick is this?’ Codian growled. ‘Do you think me so dim? You assume a human appearance in order to better coerce me.’

‘I assure you, friend, that I am all I appear to be.’ The man answered, taking a step forward. He placed his hands upon the back of the seat before him, and Codian recognised it to be the very same seat he had taken on the lifepod.

‘My appearance is my own, Chaplain, though everything else you see here is illusion, an illusion created by your own mind. A place of safety, perhaps, or a place of awakening? I cannot answer that.’

‘Then answer me this, stranger. Why am I here?’

The man smiled softly at this, the lines around his eyes deepening. Despite the masking qualities of his helmet, Codian visibly bristled.

‘Forgive me, Chaplain, but you cannot truly know how complex an answer such a question requires. Why indeed?’

He gestured around him at the familiar, if out of place, surroundings.

‘In many ways, I empathise with you. All this, the journey you have unwillingly found yourself undertaking. So many emotions locked within that adamantine Astarte soul of yours. Every which way you turn, conspiracies abound. Factions hunt for you, but for what end? Why you, Daelo Codian? Why you?’

He lowered his arms again and placed a hand upon his chin, his eyes narrowing.

‘You can trust me, Chaplain. I have been waiting to meet you for a very long time. For over half a century I have lingered here in this timeless realm, awaiting the call. Now, at long last, here you are.’

Codian shook his head and twisted slowly, his eyes finding the small viewing port and the twinkling stars beyond. He knew them to be false, yet they seemed so implicitly real. He was surprised to find a measure of comfort in the familiarity of their presence.

‘You claim to be human, yet you answer with enigmatic riddles. Just like an Eldar. It would be unwise of you to continue to test my patience, stranger. Return my comrades to me and allow us to leave this cursed place.’

‘We will, Codian, I promise you that. As I have said, we are not the enemy. I am not the enemy. I am as loyal to the Emperor as you. My being here is one of necessity, my goal, the survival of our race. You must believe that.’

The Chaplain did not answer. He leaned forward so that his helm touched the thick glass. Ceramite squealed as his fists tightened.

‘Very well.’ The man said after a pause. He let go of the seat’s backrest and folded his arms, his eyes narrowing. He issued a long sigh, and then began to speak.

‘Over six centuries ago, this small vessel saved your life. Your fleet came under an unexpected attack by the Eldar. Your Strike Cruiser, the Guilliman’s Wrath, suffered critical damage and had to be abandoned. You and two of your brethren were the only survivors.’

Codian’s head began to slowly rise from the glass as he heard this.

‘The lifepod contained the command squad of your Company, including yourself. Captain Eupheis Artemon and Epistolary Lorn Kreusus, the other two commanders of your Company, never made it out of this chamber alive. Only three of you survived.’

‘How could you know this?’ The Chaplain snarled, pivoting sharply.

‘We know many things, Chaplain. We know you were on your way to engage a powerful Tau expansion force headed for Brimlock. After the destruction of the Guilliman’s Wrath, the Eldar attackers disengaged and the rest of your fleet continued on to engage the Tau in war. This was to be the beginning of the end, Codian. The Tau had already begun to change. Shadowsun’s true power was revealed, and the rest is history.’

Codian’s rage was apparent, the crimson lights shining in the pits of his eye sockets intensifying.

‘Explain how you know all this, traitor.’

‘Know it? I have borne witness to this and more. There are forces in this galaxy that cannot be known to men such as you, Codian. Powerful, ancient forces. The Eldar attack on your vessel was no coincidence. Had you gone on to Brimlock, you would have perished, along with the rest of your Company. At great cost, your death was averted.

‘This small vessel was guided into the shifting tides of the Protea Wash deliberately, Chaplain. Your centuries-long entombment, your discovery. It was all planned. Planned by the Eldar. Your being here is the result of machinations that stretch across millennia. Can you imagine what it is to be part of a grand design as large and timeless as this?’

‘How can you know all this?’ Codian raged, repeating his question. He twisted and smashed the nearest chair free of its moorings with a single backhand blow, sending it tumbling across the small chamber.

‘Part of a grand design? Your precious grand design saw the deaths of my brethren! Your grand design saw brothers closer to me than flesh or blood rot and turn to dust within the damned eddies of the warp! Someone, somewhere, will die to avenge their loss! You…’

He thrust an accusing finger out at the stranger.

‘You will be the one to satisfy that debt.’

The man unfolded his arms and held his hands up in supplication, though his unchanging expression betrayed neither concern nor fear for his own well-being.

‘I understand your anger, brother Astarte, and I sympathise with your loss. The ways of the Eldar are enigmatic and unfathomable to most. Events were set in place that were necessary, however abominable they may seem to you now. Believe me when I say this, it could have been no other way. Fate follows a very complex but specific path, Codian. Every single facet of existence is linked, no matter how insignificant it may appear. Only the Eldar are able to see this. Only they have the power and the foresight to change even the most manifest of destinies.

‘Yours is a destiny that had to be directed to be realised. You had to be protected. You had to be taken from your life and your duties and preserved, safeguarded, brought here to this dark period. You, Daelo Codian. You are the one. The Prophet.’

Codian thundered across the hold like a living storm of wrath, smashing everything in his way aside. He lunged for the man and wrapped his armoured fingers around the stranger’s neck, lifting him clear off the ground and slamming him into the bulkhead.

The man began to choke and claw at the Chaplain’s fingers instinctively, his eyes bulging.

‘I am the Prophet, xenos-lover. You are right about that. I carry the word of the Emperor to the darkest places of the galaxy. I am His voice, His sword. His retribution. There is nothing so foul in His eyes as a traitor.’

The Chaplain held him there for a few moments more before releasing his grip and letting him fall to the floor in a heap.

‘A foul, despicable traitor, who would consort with xenos creatures, who would even stoop so low as to do their bidding.’

It took the stranger several moments to regain his breath, the sounds of choking and gagging finally giving way to a whistling, harsh wheeze.

‘There is…nothing so…foul…in His eyes than a traitor.’ He echoed, slowly stumbling to his feet once more. ‘An interesting…philosophy.’

He cleared his throat and rubbed his neck, his teeth bared in pain.

‘Interesting, considering the current state of the starscape. Have you seen nothing since opening your eyes here, Codian? Do you have even the most vague concept of how many human beings serve the Tau? Of course you don’t. Don’t speak to me of treachery, Chaplain. If I were a servant of the Unity I would have already tried to kill you.’

‘And you would fail…’

‘Look beyond that immoveable wall of xenophobic, monodominant hostility and see the bigger picture!’ The man raged, baring his teeth. Codian found himself genuinely surprised by his counterpart’s change of emotion, his anger subsiding a little.

‘I only speak for the Eldar, Chaplain. I do not serve them. I serve the interests of the human race as a whole. Do you still not see? This is bigger than both our species. I was brought here to learn, to prepare. To pave the way for you. We have a war to win, Astarte.’

Codian emitted a harsh grunt of a retort turned his back on the man.

‘I have a war to win. I care nothing of your involvement in this, nor the Eldar’s. I have a mission to complete, and in all my years of service I have yet to fail in my duties. Release m…’

‘So you have it, then? The Caesus?’

Codian froze. Behind him, the man smiled.

‘Ah. That would be a yes, then.’

‘So you know of the Caesus. Is this why you brought me here, to determine its whereabouts?’

‘No, only to confirm that you have it. That is enough for now. I confess, brother, I already knew as much. I know you felt the death of the Endymion. We all did.’

‘I know nothing of any ‘Endymion’. Again, you speak in riddles.’

‘My apologies, Codian. I know that if you have the Caesus then you must have met Ankarzoth, its fabricator.’

He waited for an answer, but their came no reply. He continued regardless.

‘Kryptman, perhaps? Come, Chaplain, open up a little. I know he commands the Deathwatch now, and I have seen for myself the colours your Astarte friend wears. Ankarzoth. Kryptman. The Endymion. Even myself. We all had a hand in creating it. The Caesus, our Imperium’s last hope.’

Codian thought back to the incident onboard the Proscriptus Rex, when the powerful psychic burst he experienced had bowled him from his feet.

I know you felt the death of the Endymion, the stranger had said. He was in no doubt that the event this man was talking about was connected to that strange and powerful happening.

‘You claim to have been involved with the Caesus? Who are you?’

At that, the man stepped forward and extended his hand.

‘Czevak.’ Came the reply.

[Razor Devil]

Part Thirty Five.

Czevak.


‘Though I have seen within the Black Library and spoken to its most terrible guardian, I can never reveal what happened there; not to any man nor even the Emperor Himself for I am so foresworn to powers beyond your knowledge. I can only say that a time of inconceivable horror is about to begin. A time when mankind with all the might of the Imperium cannot endure when the strength of the Eldar fails.
Even now, our doom stalks us across the stars.’

Inquisitor Czevak at the Conclave of Har.



‘Czevak.’ Codian breathed, recognising the name immediately. ‘Inquisitor Czevak? I know you. The Teachings of the Unholy are…were…standard doctrine in the scholas of Ultramar.’

‘Good.’ Czevak replied, bowing his head a little. ‘It is good that you know of me, Codian. Better even that you know of my work. You must know then that I am no heretic.’

‘Perhaps. You do however seem to somewhat lionise the Eldar in your writings, Inquisitor.’ Codian replied.

‘Little wonder I find you here.’

Czevak’s hand lowered as he heard this, his expression hardening.

‘Lionise? No, Chaplain, I assure you that is not the case. I respect the Eldar, yes, for they are a race that must be respected. I am no fawning sycophant to the Eldar race. One who has learned such terrible and astounding secrets as I have would understand the precedence with which I place them in the schemes of this universe.’

At that, the Inquisitor sighed and lowered his gaze.

‘Can you imagine what it is to have wallowed within these warp tunnels for so long, Codian? I sense it, the question lingering at the forefront of your mind. I am no psyker, yet here amongst the shifting energies of the Webway, one finds their powers of perception augmented, over time. Yes Chaplain, I am the same Czevak of that lost era. The laws of time and space hold little meaning here, for otherwise my bones would long be turned to dust. Like you I have been kept, preserved if you will, so that I may be abroad to see this final, grand plan. We have more in common than you would care to admit, Astarte.’

Codian shook his head and pushed past the Inquisitor, heading towards the lifepod’s single access door. He slammed his palm against the activation rune and the hatch hissed open. Shifting, lurid colours swam across his armour immediately and he cursed, looking out into a void of churning, vivid energy.

‘So this is a prison.’ He said, punching his fist into the rune once again.

‘No. Yours is a mission that must be realised, Codian. You were saved from capture so that you can may continue your holy work. The Eldar…’

‘The Eldar. The damned Eldar! I am tired of hearing their accursed name spilling from your lips, Inquisitor! I was told the Eldar had fled the rising power of the Unity.’

‘There is a measure of truth in that, though there are many facets to the Eldar race. Centuries ago the mighty Craftworlds turned their prows toward the void and headed out into the unknown regions. Those that brought you here, the Harlequins as we know them, did not. They cannot. They could not abandon the Black Library, Chaplain.’

‘Ah yes.’ Codian uttered, facing the Inquisitor. ‘The fabled Black Library. Many are the tales told of that secret place. You yourself mention it many times in your works. So, is this where we are, Czevak?’

The Inquisitor shook his head, his face darkening.

‘No, and you should be thankful for that. To even stand within its walls is to risk your sanity. There is no other place I know of so utterly inimical to the human psyche than the Library. What I saw and learned there changed me, Chaplain. Sometimes I wish that I had never been allowed to enter its gates. Still, many are the secrets I have learned, not least of which is the very reason I was allowed to enter in the first place. To learn and to prepare for this very meeting, and for the journey ahead.’

‘So, you claim that you are here to help me, Inquisitor. Fair enough. Help me. Return my comrades and set me on a path that will lead me back to my people, to the ship that even now journeys towards Terra. Do that, and perhaps I will begin to believe you.’

Much to his surprise Czevak smiled and nodded his head.

‘That was always the plan. Preparations are being made as we speak to return us to realspace. I only ask that you allow me to join your quest, so that I may act as your guide in these coming days. I have waited centuries for you, Daelo Codian. The death-scream of the Saint was a call, the call to arms. It is time for the enemies of the Tau to respond.’

Again, Codian felt the uneasy presence of great and unknown machinations at work. He hated the thought that his own actions were being guided by some force or power other than that of the Emperor Himself. He knew with all his heart and soul that he would never allow himself to trust the Eldar, no matter what lay ahead for him.

The mission. The mission was all that mattered. To complete it would be his rock, his centre. It would be the lynchpin that would anchor him to sanity and purpose when all about him seemed to be chaos.

‘Only the lost understand true terror.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘You wrote that, inquisitor. Don’t you remember? Strange that I should recall those words here and now. Perhaps you would attribute such coincidence to the meddling of the Eldar?’

Czevak did not answer the question. Instead he raised his hand and swept it out before him, a gesture that caused the air itself to shimmer and distort. Codian stepped back as a swirling light expanded from a central point and spread like glittering dust, taking on a scene he found immediately familiar.

He looked on as a miniaturised, three-dimensional vista of the galaxy unfolded before him, the spiral arms spreading as they unfurled.

Entire regions of the vista were shaded in red, like vast angry lesions spanning entire systems and sectors.

‘The stars are ours no longer, Chaplain. See for yourself how far the Unity have spread. See for yourself how small the borders of our Imperium have become. The net tightens with the passing of each moment. The end is coming, Codian.

‘Trust me. Trust me and we may yet see victory here. Hope remains, and while ever it does, we must fight to preserve it.’

Czevak paused and walked slowly through the illusion, his passing causing constellations and systems to swirl about him as they were displaced, only to realign themselves as he passed. He cast a furtive eye over the shadows at the edges of the chamber and then looked back at the Chaplain, his features pleading and genuine.

‘The Harlequins of the Red Masque saved my life centuries ago. In the midst of the Despoiler’s thirteenth attempt to storm the Cadian Gate I was captured by one of the sons of Magnus…’

Czevak’s words died in his throat as Codian loomed toward him and tore his helmet free amid a hissing of escaping stream. The Chaplain eyes met his for the first time and Codian spat at his feet. The Chaplain’s burning eyes lingered there for a single moment more and then they were gone, buried once more beneath the gleaming death mask helm.

‘Never utter those names in my presence again, Inquisitor. To even hear them spoken is anathema to me.’

‘As it should be, faithful Chaplain. It was, however, through the actions of one of the Fallen Sons that I came to be held here these past centuries. Even then, the Ruinous Powers suspected something of these dark times. The servants of the Changer of the ways sought to use the onset of the Black Crusade as a screen, a distraction that would allow them to break this Webway wide open and advance upon the Black Library itself…

‘Still, all this is irrelevant to you. What I am trying to make you understand is this. Yes, I have spent many, many years in the company of the Eldar. And yes, everything we do is affected in some way, however subtle, by the unknowable machinations of that ancient race.

‘But all that is immaterial to me. No matter what you believe, I am not privy to everything they know, nor will I ever aspire to be. I do not care for whatever distant future goal it is that they seek to attain, and they know that. They have reached into the furthest depths of my mind and they see the truth. I serve their cause but for one reason, and that is to see the Imperium of our Lord restored. The extermination of the Tau is all that matters at this point, Codian. To halt the Unity’s advance and collapse their damned star-spanning empire is my goal. Whatever lies beyond that is a concern for another time.’

Codian paused as he heard this and glanced about him, his eyes searching for things he knew he could not see.

‘They are still here, aren’t they? They surround us.’

‘Yes, of course. I care nothing either for their presence or their intentions. I know what the Caesus was created to achieve and I would give my life to see its function realised.’

He held up a hand as if presenting the invisible beings surrounding them.

‘They know of the Caesus too. Had they any choice, they would see it destroyed as an abomination. Yet they dare not. They fear it, Codian, and yet they fear what is destined to happen should it not be used far more. Do you see? We are not the only ones bound to events and situations we detest and yet know are necessary to survive. We are not the only ones forced to dance with the figurative devil. They need us and we need them, no matter how bitter a taste it leaves in the mouth.’

Czevak finished and stepped away, sweeping his hand before him. The ‘galaxy’ shuddered and disappeared, dissipating into the air.

‘What now?’ Codian asked.

‘We leave. There can be no further delay. Much preparation has been put into place to assist our efforts. Given that we have no direct way to join with your vessel, we will be deposited on the world closest to its path that is free from the presence of the Unity. A planet named Ornsworld located at the southern edges of the Segmentum Obscurus. There we will establish contact with your people and, once retrieved, will begin the next stage of our journey.’

‘I see. The others who were with me?’

‘They are safe and they will be joining us.’

‘Good. The sooner we are back on course for Terra, the better.’

Czevak heard this and paused, rotating his neck slowly so as to look at the Chaplain.

‘We are soon to leave, Codian, but before we do, you must understand something. The Caesus is not yet ready for use. Before we begin the final leg of our journey, the journey that will take us to Terra, there are other plans that must be set into motion.’

‘Czevak…’

‘I apologise, Chaplain.’ The Inquisitor answered, the small hold of the lifepod softening and starting to distort, as if running fluid.

‘But that is the way things have to be. Try to relax…’
The rest of Czevak’s words became fuzzy and indistinct as the Webway dissolved the illusion around him and the sickening colours of its insubstantial walls leaked in, causing his mind to thicken and turn to soup. Next came blackness…

+++

Light. He opened his eyes with a start and was up onto his feet even before his mind had begun to assess the situation. The ground beneath him was soft and malleable and he looked down to see vivid emerald grass reaching up to his armoured shins.

The Webway was gone. He looked out over endless, rolling hills capped with clear blue skies. The only hints of civilisation he could make out were sparse and scattered columns of distant grey smoke snaking lazily into the skies.

‘Gorthun’s Guild! Bone-priest!’

He twisted as he heard the voice to come across Grungi, standing almost waist-deep in the grass carpet. The Demiurg swept his flame-coloured tresses back over his head and waded forward, glancing about him in obvious bewilderment.

‘Well, I won’t even pretend to have a clue about what happened to us back on Vanphilos, but I’ll wager we’re no longer there.’

Even as Codian made to answer he noticed the rising forms of Torvus and the Cadian ascending behind the short alien, both their faces slack with waking confusion.

‘Czevak…’ He uttered quietly, his thoughts quickly gathering.
‘What’s that? A stalk-leg swearword?’

‘Perhaps so.’ He replied, making his way over to the others. He greeted the Marine and the soldier briefly and then, satisfied that they were unharmed, turned his attention to the surrounding countryside.

They were at the edge of a woodland, standing meters away from the where the rolling grasslands met the dense tree line. There was no sign of how they had come to be here.

‘Chaplain? What happened to us?’ Torvus asked, shaking his head. ‘What is this place?’

‘Ornsworld.’

All eyes turned to the trees as the four figures heard the voice. Czevak emerged from the shadows, carrying with him a heavy-looking cylinder of clearly xenos design. Torvus and Grungi responded with equal speed, faces tightening as they started forward. A flicker of apprehension crossed the Inquisitor’s face and he looked expectantly toward Codian.

‘Hold.’ The Chaplain growled. ‘He is with me.’

The two warriors paused, anger fading from their expressions.

‘What do you mean, with you?’ Grungi snarled, eyeing the aging man suspiciously. ‘And where in the warp is Ornsworld?’

Czevak placed the strange device onto the ground and held up his hands.

‘Please, let’s all of us allow ourselves a moment to balance our thoughts. Transition is never easy for those unused to the shifting energies of the Webway…’

‘Webway?’

Codian flinched as he felt Torvus attempt to barge past him, and he grabbed the Marine’s arm, slowing his advance.

‘Be calm, all of you. It would seem that there is much to explain…’

[skarsnik]

I'm realing enjoing this, please post more of it.

[Razor Devil]

Part Thirty Six.

Reunion.


Czevak observed at a distance as Codian explained the current situation to his comrades, one hand resting intently on his bearded chin. Curses and oaths carried through the air at regular intervals, accompanied by gestures of disbelief and outrage.

He continued to scrutinize the exchange until one of the figures, the Deathwatch Marine, broke free of the group and strode towards him, his fists bunched in anger.

‘The Eldar? The damned Eldar brought us here?’

He closed on Czevak and thrust an accusing finger out at the Inquisitor.

‘You consort with xenos witches and yet you claim to be a member of the Emperor’s Inquisition? You allowed heretical alien sorcery to transport us to this place…’

‘Sorcery? Hardly, Astarte.’ Czevak answered. He raised his fist and slammed it against what looked to be empty air, causing a dull, solid thud. This action in turn caused a ripple to pass through the air and the others looked on, stupefied, as the air seemed to literally burn away like singed paper, the glowing ‘hole’ spreading quickly to reveal a towering half-whalebone arch.

The others stepped back instinctively as the construct towered above them.

‘An Eldar Warpgate. It would surprise you to learn just how many of these artefacts lay undiscovered on Imperial worlds. This is…was…how the Eldar transported themselves between spheres.’
Codian was the first to break the following silence and respond. He left the others and made his way over to the Inquisitor, casting a furtive eye over the ancient relic before the air swallowed it once more and it sank back into the trees, the woodland appearing to thicken and envelop it.

‘I have explained our situation, Inquisitor, now I see no further reason to delay. What happens from here?’

‘We await the arrival of your vessel. The Harlequin Seers have already taken steps to inform your Astropaths of our location.’

‘It is not that simple. We have security codes…’

‘I know, Chaplain, I am an Inquisitor. The codes were obtained from the mind of your Deathwatch companion. Now it is a simple matter of awaiting the arrival of your colleagues.’

He gestured towards the trees behind them.

‘All your weapons and equipment are stowed in the tree line. You are all free to retrieve them.’

The others hurried past as they heard this, eager to rearm. Only Codian remained where he was, his eyes fixed on the Inquisitor.

‘There are still many questions that require answers, Czevak. You will answer them if you hope to join us.’

Czevak met his steel gaze and bowed his head.

‘That is my purpose, Chaplain. I am to be your oracle on this journey. I will answer your questions, but will tell you only what you need to know.’

‘Alright. This world, Czevak. Why here?’

‘Ornsworld? As I explained, this was the safest point of exit from the Webway in this sector. This planet is a Ratling homeworld, meaning its orbital defences are almost nonexistent. The Unity swept through here and conquered the population almost overnight. Over ninety five percent of that population are gone, Chaplain, absorbed by the Tau war machine. Given the relative desolation of this place, your comrades should encounter no resistance when they come to retrieve us.’

‘Fair enough. How will they know where to find us?’

‘Coordinates were sent. They will find us Chaplain, I promise you that.’

Codian glanced over to where the others were still busy retrieving their personal equipment. Sure that they were out of earshot, he turned his attention back to the Inquisitor.

‘The Caesus. No one has yet revealed to me its purpose.’

‘Nor will I.’ Czevak answered all too quickly, his face darkening. ‘For your own good, I cannot. I told you that I would reveal only what you need to know, and you will learn of its function in due course. I trust you, Codian, for I have been shown your destiny. It is a destiny, however, that can be affected by any number of unforeseen circumstances. If you were to be captured by forces that seek to prevent that destiny then they would…’

‘Enough.’ Codian growled, waving his hand. ‘I have heard all this before. I know that I can be trusted to deliver it but not trusted to know what it does. Enough of this damned mystery, Czevak. I do not wish to know how to use the Caesus, I just want to know what it does. Tell me. Tell me now or I go no further.’

Czevak glanced nervously towards the others, watching as faces turned his way in response to the Chaplain’s raised voice.

‘Please, Chaplain, chasten yourself. Walk with me.’
Codian heard this and scowled. Nonetheless, as the Inquisitor folded his arms beneath his robes and began to head out in the direction of the endless, sprawling hills, he followed.

+++

‘You have yet to answer me.’ Codian said, glancing behind him at the shrinking specks far behind the. Czevak did not answer at first but continued on a little further, his face raised to meet the cool breeze. The Chaplain maintained his pace beside the inquisitor, and was finding it difficult to keep his stride short enough to stay alongside the smaller man.

‘Inquisitor…’

Czevak slowed, taking a deep, appreciative breath of fresh, unpolluted air.

‘They did not join the Unity willingly.’

‘What?’

‘The Ratlings of this world.’ Czevak answered, facing Codian. ‘They did not fall beneath the yoke of the Tau without protest. They fought, in their millions they fought. Alone and without Imperial aid, they nonetheless fought the invading xenos even though they knew they could not win.’

‘I fail to see what that has to do with anything, Inquisitor.’

‘Faith.’ Czevak answered with a short affirming nod. ‘Faith has to do with everything. Loyalty and faith. Some would call the inhabitants of a world like this lesser creatures. Ab-humans. Tolerated, yes, but impure. And yet they loved the Emperor with all their hearts and souls.’

‘And now they serve xenos masters.’

‘Yes. That would make them traitors and heretics, turncoats of the foulest calibre. Yet they did what they had to do to survive, as a populace. They knew the Tau would exterminate them should they fail to comply. In short, they have forever damned themselves in the eyes of the Imperium.’

Codian snarled and shook his head, feeling his anger rising.

‘Again you divert and prattle. What does this have to do with the Caesus?’

Czevak smiled and reached into the folds of his robes.

‘Desperation, Codian. Fear. Self-preservation. Sometimes a man has to go to lengths he would never have dared dream of just to stay alive, to ensure his survival. Such were the reasons we created the Caesus. To survive the inevitable coming of the end, no matter what the ramifications. I have two gifts for you, chaplain. Here, take them.’

Czevak handed the Chaplain two items, placing each one gently into the huge open palms of the Marine. Codian glared in bemusement at the ‘gifts’, feeling a fresh surge of confusion wash through him.

One was a large oval jewel, its smooth surface flawless and shimmering with a curious internal light. Even through the protection of his gauntlets he could feel a pulsing warmth. The other was a scroll of obvious age, bound by a crimson ribbon.

‘Place the gemstone somewhere safe, Chaplain. Guard it with your life, for it is to play an important part soon enough. As for the scroll, untie the ribbon and read it. Perhaps it will provide some of the answers you so crave.’

Annoyance and intrigue warred within the Marine. Eventually he gave in to the enigma and, watched intently by Czevak, secreted the gemstone in his belt pouch and untied the ribbon.

He began to read.

Time most distant, future’s zenith.
In tears, the star-sea mourns.
Isha’s children lament. All is lost to arrogance, grand designs soured by success, dreams are dust.
Shattered and done, the progeny set sail for the forever-beyond, flight borne on the tides of shame.
To dwindle and expire, forever denied.
The New Star burns too intense to douse, unchecked, untamed. Gods despair.
Tide surges, the end time is come.

Future’s path runs red as Khaine-blood, Hate-Winter rages, the portents scream their siren song. The song of Ulthanash is silent, Isha’s eye closed in slumber. Asuryan’s Shrine-light flickers and dies. The Cosmic Serpent reveals the truth and sheds his final skin. The Rebirth is denied. The Doom of Eldanesh comes to pass, the Red Moon rises.
The Rhana Dandra is come, let young and old cower before the chaos of the end.

The New Star will rise unprecedented, all the dread despoilers of the old kingdom quail beneath its fire.
Dead-King shivers on his maggot-throne as the Tide assails his walls, his kingdom lost.
Locust flees, no longer to plague creation-fields, feast denied.
Slave-puppets, once free, now lie in chains, conquered anew, rebellion’s essence bound in blood.
Long-Dead are exhumed, tombs razed. There shall be no flight, no peace in death. Their gods shall tremble.
Damned Shores become bastion as Dark Souls return. Exodus-flight before the rising swell. Denizens of Under-Kingdom cower behind its gates as the Tide surges.
Shame-Kin be damned in the bowels of the Webway, vermin scuttling in filth and terror, afraid of the ragescream storm above. Let them gather souls in shame and desperate haste, past sins quail as the All-Thirst is quenched. The brightest hope may lie amongst the darkest of shadow, the Learned Mongrel-Soul exhumed to see a destiny fulfilled.
Many Mighty Kings shall offer their swords to the Tide. None shall escape. None shall escape.

Skeins divided, hope defiant. Light and darkness heed, else collide and be damned. Fractured is as death, no other path leads to hope.
Existence-Tree be razed to its roots, bitter leaves cleansed. Then can hope’s light flicker. All forgotten to the core of creation. Then can hope’s flame catch the breeze.
Let the Lost Princes of the Young gather, shoulder to shoulder they alone may weather the Hate-Winter’s wrath.
Bright Hope’s flame still burns deep in the shadows of the Dead Land, too powerful to extinguish forever. Soul Beacon, the Horn of Kurnous will sound the call to war. They shall gather, let but some of their names be known.
The Revenant. The First-And-Ever Lords of War. The Lost Princes. The Wrathful Masters. The Reapers of Light. The Stolen Giant. The Prophet. The Last Avenger. The Entombed Ancient. The Oracle. The Blazing Rebel.
All these names and more shall stand ready as the Rhana Dandra dawns and the light of the Final Day casts her glow upon armour and weapon.

Maelstrom, life and death gather for war, old and young collide beneath the Red Moon. Origin revealed, too sour a taste to accept.
It matters not, what is, is.
Gods splintered reform in deed to counter the twilight. The children rise, menagerie gather in bitter winds of division’s death. Choice is murdered for all time, no longer sustainable in revealed irrelevance.
Diversity is power, the only power left unconsumed. Youth’s vigour an appetite insatiable above all else, desperation will rule the firmament. There can be no more old-thought. Every shadow will shift, writhe with hidden stirring. Life’s last breath must be deep.

Let them stand on the Final Shore as one, faces turned to the Tide. I have seen future’s zenith. I have seen crux and apex. Past, present and future united. Enmity is not survival. History rewritten at its very core, primeval puzzle complete.
One must tell the tale. Paths cannot be altered, only destinations revealed.
Unity. When the ash-wake clears, no more division, only Unity.
The Great Unity will prevail.

Done, he rolled the scroll back up and clutched it in his fist, his eyes finding the Inquisitor.

‘What is this, Czevak? Yet another riddle?’

‘Much more. You hold in your hands a translation of an ancient Eldar prophecy, one of the oldest in existence. It describes the rise of the Tau to ultimate dominance in this galaxy. More so, it hints at the course the war will take and the heroes who will rise to meet the Unity in those final days. Here, let me show you.’

He took the parchment and unravelled it. Codian followed his finger as it pointed to a certain word on the ancient scroll.

‘The Prophet. That is you, Codian. There can be no mistake. The original tablet this is translated from is older than anyone can guess, and yet, there you are.’

‘Let me see that.’ Codian answered, snatching the parchment.

‘The Oracle.’ Czevak continued. ‘I believe I fill that role. You see, I am to be your oracle, your liason to the clues of the past, as I am given to understand it. Read on, Chaplain, you should recognise more.
The Last Avenger? This has to be your Demiurg comrade, the last of his kind, honour-bound to avenge the extermination of his people. It would seem he too has an important part yet to play.’

Codian found himself reading the entire thing again, and though he would not have admitted a such to Czevak, the words intrigued him.

‘This first section.’ He began, lowering the paper. ‘Isha’s children?’

‘The Eldar.’

‘As I suspected. It describes the Eldar’s exodus. It seems to suggest that they fled the galaxy in shame.’

A sudden and icy silence descended upon Czevak. His face darkened immediately, and he raised a hand and placed it on Codian’s arm.

‘Keep the scroll safe, Chaplain. Use it as a guide in these coming days.’

‘All is lost to arrogance, grand designs soured by success. Flight borne on the tides of shame. What does this mean, Czevak? What did the Eldar do? What did they do that was so terrible they fled these stars in shame?’

Czevak issued a long sigh and looked to the horizon, the breeze catching his raven hair. It was as if he dared not meet the Chaplain’s gaze.

‘They made a mistake, Codian. Armed with the best intentions and more than enough of that legendary Eldar arrogance to match, they decided to try an play at being gods. Creation assumed the role of creator, yet they were far from ready.’

‘Creation? Creator? What mistake?’

‘The Tau. Don’t you see, Codian? Haven’t you worked it out yet? It was the Eldar. The Eldar created them. The Eldar created the Tau.’

[Razor Devil]

Part Thirty Seven.

Revelations.


+++THE PROSCRIPTUS REX+++
+++THREE WEEKS LATER+++

‘Chaplain?’

He lifted his head as he heard the voice. It was Andrasi who stood in the open doorway of the small reclusium. The Rogue Trader’s eyes fell upon the slip of yellowed parchment in the Chaplain’s hands and a look of intrigue crept across his face.

Codian’s fist tightened around the parchment and he quickly secreted it before rising and fixing his almost omnipresent helm back into place.

‘What is it captain? What is it that is so important you would disturb my meditation?’

Andrasi was obviously taken aback by the Chaplain’s curt retort and hovered there for a moment, his jaw working in silence. He finally plucked up the courage to step through the arched doorway and into the chapel, quietly taking in the serenity of the small, holy space. The way the young man glanced about him at the friezes and reliquary, it was clear that he had never spent long, if at all, in an Imperial chapel.

‘My humble apologies, Chaplain. I was asked to come and find you. Your link seems to be down.’

‘It is. I was meditating.’ Codian repeated, quickly rolling the paper back up and sliding it into the pouch at his waist.

Andrasi nodded, wringing his hands.

‘It…it is good to see you back here alive and in one piece, brother. We feared the worst when we heard you had been left behind. It is nothing short of a miracle that you all made it back alive.’

Codian stiffened as he heard this. He looked at Andrasi, his glowing eyes burning into the Rogue Trader’s flesh.

‘A miracle? Eldar techno-sorcery is no miracle, Captain. We only escaped from Vanphilos thanks to the Eldar. My soul feels laden with filth at the thought of this.’

Andrasi made no reply at first. He moved further into the chapel and sat down on one of the small pews, his actions furtive and hesitant. His skin softened and glowed in the light of the flickering candles spread out on the altar before him and he flicked his long fringe away from his face.

‘My family have had dealings with the Eldar in the past, Chaplain. In my line of work such things carry a measure of inevitability. My family history contains many, many documentations of trade with the old Craftworld dwellers. They are a lofty species, aloof and mysterious, yes, but…’

‘But?’

Andrasi shrugged.

‘Ah, I don’t know. I just…I just can’t understand why you hate them so much. They saved you, Chaplain. You would have died or been taken by the Tau if they had not come for you.’

Codian took a single step forward and issued a long, rumbling growl. Andrasi flinched, his arms drawing tighter to his chest.

‘Hate? I am required to hate them, Rogue Trader. They are xenos and they are counted amongst the great enemies of the Imperium. My attitudes are right and they are just. Besides…’

He paused, a measure of his anger dwindling.

‘The sins of their past are grave indeed. How little you truly know.’

Andrasi hastily made to stand and issued an instinctive bow to the golden effigy set into the wall above the alter before facing the doorway. He reached the arched opening and slowed, looking towards Codian.

‘I will consider myself chastised.’ He answered, sweeping a hand over his unruly hair. ‘I just came to tell you that your presence is required on the bridge. Your Inquisitor comrade is holding a private conference with Kryptman as we speak. It would seem that your colleague is most eager to contact the Alliance. You are formally invited to attend.’

The free captain finished and bowed respectfully before shifting into the sterile light beyond the reclusium entrance.

‘Andrasi?’

The Rogue Trader paused, one hand falling upon the doorframe.

‘Tell them that I am unable to attend at this time. I have to speak with Kryptman.’

‘Kryptman will be present via the internal link…’

‘I have to speak with him alone, Andrasi. Tell them to conduct the meeting without me. That is all.’

Andrasi nodded and stepped through into the light.

‘Please try to forgive my ignorance, Chaplain.’ He said over his shoulder. ‘Perhaps it is a product of my background and upbringing, but I just don’t have the capacity to abhor that which I do not understand. I tend to reserve my detestation for those who are my enemy through circumstance and action, not those who do not share my racial origins. Perhaps I am naïve, and that is my failing. Unlike you, it would seem that I do not have an endless reserve of hate.’

With that he left swiftly the way he had come, leaving Codian standing alone in the flickering candlelight.

‘Better for you that you do not learn the truth.’ He whispered, but Andrasi was already long gone.

+++

The semi-living slabs of flesh and metal that were the Praetorians shifted as the door slid open, the floor creaking beneath their weight. Codian thundered into the chamber, his crimson cloak billowing behind him.

‘Chaplain.’

The voice echoed through the chamber around him, tinny and overtly acoustic. He stepped into the glow emanating from the powerful life support field before him, his eyes finding the figure seated beyond its crackling protection.

‘I have been expecting you since you arrived back on the Proscriptus, Codian. I know why you are here.’

‘Is it true?’

He retrieved the parchment and thrust it out at the Inquisitor, the edges of the aged paper fizzing as they caught the shimmering field.

‘I know that Czevak has been here, and I know of your history. The Inquisitor told me many things, Kryptman. I need to know if they are true.’

‘What did he tell you?’ Kryptman asked.

‘Don’t patronise me!’ Codian roared, slamming his fist against the field. The Praetorian servitors mobilised immediately, pivoting as one to face the angered Chaplain. They all took a few lumbering steps forward and then froze, weapons systems and motive servos dying in a heartbeat. As one, each of the massive constructs deactivated. The Chaplain watched all this unmoved.

‘There. Now you may rage uninterrupted, if that is your desire. Or, if you wish, we can hold a civilised discussion.’

Codian growled with displeasure and backed away a little, the scroll still clutched tightly in his fist.

‘You and Czevak are comrades of old, Kryptman, I know that. He revealed many things to me, supposed facts that I suspect you would have kept to yourself.’

‘Perhaps. Then again, he would have only told you what you were ready to hear. Exactly what is it that is troubling you, Chaplain? I assume that you are aware we are about to attempt to make contact with the Alliance for the first time…’

‘That can wait. I would know the truth, Kryptman, and I will not leave this chamber until I am satisfied. Is it true? Are the Eldar responsible for all this?’

Kryptman fell silent. Codian could see the ancient Inquisitor’s expression beyond the field, and it was one of dark displeasure. It was clear that the Inquisitor felt great discomfort with the prospect of disclosing what he was about to reveal.

‘Very well, Chaplain.’ Kryptman finally uttered. ‘I will tell you all I know, but before I do, I will give you this warning. You must not allow the facts I am about to reveal to cloud your better judgement in the days to come. If we are to survive this war then we must do so by whatever means we can, even if those means will ultimately damn us in the eyes of the masses. Do you understand?’

‘Yes.’ Codian answered simply.

Kryptman nodded.

‘Then tell me what you know.’

Codian lowered his gaze and began to pace slowly around the room like a caged animal. From his body language it was apparent that he was hesitant to speak of what he had learned.

‘Czevak claims that the Eldar created the Tau. Is this true?’

Kryptman’s reply came after a lengthy pause.

‘Yes.’

Codian nodded and continued to pace up and down the chamber, slowly and purposefully.