[Space Wolf 05] - Sons of Fenris

by Lee Lightner - (ebook by Undead)

  “That’s one of the things I find odd about this whole situation,” Ragnar added.

  “They ran away like the cowards they are,” Haegr scoffed.

  “No, Ragnar is right,” said Torin. “I’m puzzled by that and by the fact that they fired upon us without any provocation. The history between our Chapters is well-known; neither trusts the other. However, they are Astartes and nothing in that history justifies their actions tonight.”

  Lady Gabriella stepped forwards, hands clasped behind her back as she mulled these events over in her mind. “I agree. There is something bigger going on here, something beyond a simple production slowdown. I sense that the events of this evening are bigger than just promethium production. I’ll inform the governor of the situation. Perhaps you should ensure that the palace is secure and then assist the commander in his search,” Gabriella instructed.

  “Very good, my lady,” Ragnar replied.

  “Magni, let me tell you about the time that my mere presence alone drove six Dark Angels into hiding underground,” said Haegr.

  FIVE

  Escalation

  The Dark Angels kill team had been moving through the abandoned mines since their escape from the Space Wolves and the Hyades defence forces. Jeremiah had kept them moving to ensure that their escape had been secured, in case there was anyone following them. He had also kept them going to give him time to prepare for the inevitable discussion that would take place. He and his brothers were Dark Angels, Adeptus Astartes, Space Marines. They had just retreated from a fight, and if that was not enough, their retreat had been from a pack of Space Wolves, ancient enemies of the Dark Angels Chapter. His brothers did not take kindly to retreat, and since he encouraged and valued their opinions he knew that they would have some thoughts on the recent events, thoughts that would need to be addressed.

  A room off one of the tunnels provided a convenient stopping place.

  “We’ll stop here, brothers, and assess our next move,” said Jeremiah to his team. “Elijah, Marius, stand watch at the door.”

  The rest of the team took positions throughout the chamber. Empty barrels and crates were strewn about, and ancient lighting systems hung from the walls. Their internal power source was still intact, and generated minute amounts of light, casting the chamber in an eerie twilight glow.

  Jeremiah watched as Sebastian paced back and forth across the room, a mix of anger and disappointment etched onto his face, looking up occasionally as if ready to speak, but changing his mind at the last minute. Nathaniel was standing next to a large metal vat against the opposite wall from Jeremiah, arms folded across his chest as he leaned back against the wall. His expression was one of composure and control. Jeremiah knew that he would never openly speak against him.

  However, he also knew that he had some concerns. The rest looked at the other three, and feeling the tension that was building, they waited the inevitable confrontation.

  “Sebastian, you wish to speak?” Jeremiah inquired.

  “With respect, no,” Sebastian stated.

  “Sebastian, we all have an equal voice within Lion’s Pride. You know that. Jeremiah will hear your words,” Nathaniel prompted.

  “I’m uncomfortable with retreating, regardless of the reason. There is no honour in such an action.” Sebastian stated.

  “Do you share Sebastian’s concerns, brothers?” Jeremiah made eye contact with each member of his team, and they all nodded their agreement until he reached Nathaniel.

  “And you, Nathaniel?” Jeremiah asked.

  “Let’s just say I understand it, brother,” Nathaniel replied.

  “As do I, Nathaniel, as do I. However, there are more important things than personal honour, Sebastian.” Jeremiah’s words drew the air from the room. He again scanned the room gauging their reaction. “Yes, we retreated, but we did not retreat in fear of defeat. We retreated to protect what we could not afford to lose.”

  Jeremiah watched as his words began to take hold. Sebastian lifted his eyes from the floor and looked him squarely in the face. Nathaniel stood, unfolding his arms, looking like the warrior that he remembered.

  “We sacrificed nothing. The honour was ours because we had to protect something much greater than ourselves: the honour of our Chapter. The success of our mission is paramount. We gain honour by keeping that oath, my brothers.”

  With those words the team was whole again, ready to continue its mission. Jeremiah looked to Nathaniel his oldest and dearest friend. Nathaniel simply nodded his head, assuring him that he was right.

  A dagger of light ripped through the black canvas of stars, leaving a jagged tear in the fabric of space and time. Imperceptibly the tear expanded, until it became a hole filled with light. Time stood still, making mere moments last an eternity, until something emerged from the light.

  The bow launch bay of the starship entered normal space first. A robed winged figure thrusting a sword upwards stood above the bay opening, challenging all that lay in her path. With a ripple, the remainder of the Space Marine battle-barge cleared the tear and completed its entry into real space. The hole of light shuddered to a close in the vessel’s wake.

  The starship’s dark green colour made it almost invisible against the blackness of space. After a moment, running lights flickered on and off, outlining this monster of Imperial technology. Along its bow, the words “Vinco Redemptor” became visible. The winged sword emblem of the Dark Angels was clearly displayed above them.

  Interrogator-Chaplain Vargas dominated the bridge of the battle-barge. His mere presence seemed to control every function of the vessel. His gaze panned from control station to control station, ensuring that all was in order. Any variance would be unacceptable. He was the master of all things aboard his vessel.

  “Lord-chaplain, we have successfully transferred from warp space into real space. We have now entered the Hyades system.” The adept’s voice revealed his relief.

  Vargas caressed the large tome that hung from his belt: an ancient book with a gold binding, on its cover the symbol of his Chapter. Its contents were for his eyes only. A gold rosarius hung from a gold chain around his neck. His robes covered almost all of his dark green power armour, partially obscuring the Imperial eagle emblazoned on his armour’s chest plate. Although the hood of his robe shadowed his face, his bionic eye gave off a gentle red glow beneath it. His crozius arcanum, the ancient weapon of his order, hung from the left side of his belt.

  The Chapter Master had dispatched Vargas to Hyades to retrieve one of the Fallen. He had inserted a kill team in secret, hoping to avoid unnecessary conflict and retrieve the traitor without incident. The kill team had instructions not only to capture their target, but also to assess the extent of the contamination.

  Vargas studied the comms podium confirming that there had been no word from the kill team since insertion. His men could find no signal from the Thunderhawk that had been left for emergency withdrawal of the team. Vargas could only surmise that the kill team had been compromised or destroyed outright. Their fate would be determined in time.

  Vargas turned, walking the length of the bridge until he stood just behind the helm station. The adept quickly glanced towards the interrogator-chaplain in an effort to acknowledge his presence before turning his attention back to guiding the Redemptor.

  “Distance to Hyades?” the interrogator-chaplain asked. His raspy voice had a metallic quality to it.

  “Approximately twenty-five million kilometres, lord-chaplain,” replied the helmsmen.

  Vargas nodded. “Comms, contact our kill team on Hyades. See if they respond.”

  Vargas strode over to the comms console. “We have high levels of interference, lord-chaplain, but I think, yes, we have a signal,” the relieved communications officer stated.

  Vargas took the main comm. “Captain Jeremiah, this is Interrogator-Chaplain Vargas aboard the Vinco Redemptor. Respond.” Vargas paused for a moment.

  “Captain Jeremiah Gieyus of Interrogator Kill Team Lio
n’s Pride, respond.” Vargas’s impatience was apparent through his metallic tones.

  Static answered him.

  “Comms, are you certain we have enough signal strength to get through?” asked Vargas.

  “Yes, lord-chaplain we—” He was cut short by the response of the kill team.

  “This is Captain Gieyus of the Kill Team Lion’s Pride, reporting, Interrogator-Chaplain Vargas.” Jeremiah’s voice burst through the comm speakers.

  “Captain Gieyus, may I assume that you have subdued your target and are awaiting extraction?”

  “Negative, lord-chaplain, we encountered unexpected obstacles in our mission,” Jeremiah stated.

  “I am confused, Captain Gieyus. What ‘unexpected obstacles’?”

  “We gained access to the governor’s palace when we were engaged by a small force of Space Wolves. To avoid capture we escaped into the mines below the city,” Jeremiah explained.

  “Space Wolves?”

  “The Space Wolves are in the service of House Belisarius, administrators of Hyades. Their presence was unexpected,” Jeremiah said.

  “The presence of the Space Wolves is unexpected but not a cause for great concern, considering the area of space we are in. Have you located the target?” Vargas tried to hide his frustration.

  “No, lord-chaplain.” Jeremiah replied.

  “Well then as with my original plan I will deploy several squads of Dark Angels to secure the city and we will root out our objective, street by street, building by building.”

  Vargas sounded almost pleased. The interrogator was well known within the ranks of the Dark Angels. He had never failed when hunting down the Fallen. He ran them to ground each and every time. He was also known for using any and all means at his disposal to accomplish his task. The ancient secret of the Dark Angels could never be revealed. This above all else was his goal.

  “The target must be captured and brought to justice, captain; everything else is secondary.” Vargas attempted to hide the annoyance in his voice.

  “I understand that, my lord, but once again I respectfully submit that we do not need to secure the entire city for one heretic, no matter how dangerous. Lion’s Pride will locate and subdue the Fallen. We simply need more time,” pleaded Jeremiah.

  “Captain Gieyus, you have already failed in your mission. However, let it not be said that I am not a fair man. How much longer will you require?”

  “We will only need another twelve hours to locate and secure our objective, Lord Vargas. We will not fail again.” Jeremiah replied.

  “See to it that you do not, captain. You’ve had ample time. Another failure will not reflect well on you in my report.” Vargas’s statement was clear.

  “My lord chap—” Jeremiah’s reply was cut short as a high pitched whine broke through the comms, forcing several adepts to quickly cup their hands over their ears.

  “Things are dramatically different with the Sons of the Lion than I remember.” The strange augmented voice burst through. “In my day failure such as this would not have been tolerated.”

  “This is Interrogator-Chaplain Vargas of the Dark Angels. Identify yourself,” Vargas commanded.

  “So I am addressing the great Interrogator-Chaplain Vargas. I am honoured, your reputation precedes you. However, you have disappointed me, Vargas, disappointed me greatly.” The unknown voice laughed.

  “I say again, identify yourself.” Vargas repeated.

  “I thought that would have been obvious to one of your reputation, again I am disappointed. Very well if I must: I am the one you seek.” Laughter once again filled the bridge.

  “I will not bandy words with the likes of you! I will simply offer you this one chance to surrender to receive just punishment, or we will use ultimate force.” Vargas’s voice was strained with anger and disdain.

  “As I said, Vargas, you have disappointed me. Sending down a simple six-man kill team, delegating subordinates to do your job, I mean really Vargas, I had hoped for better from you.” Venom dripped from the voice of their persecutor.

  “You have an expanded perception of your own importance. A simple kill team is more than sufficient to apprehend you.” Anger grew to rage in Vargas’s voice.

  “Do you think I am some terrified refugee cowering in a corner?” The voice laughed. “I am prepared for you and your fellow Astartes, but I do not think that you are prepared for me.” Again laughter filled the bridge.

  Suddenly defensive alarms sounded throughout the ship drowning out the hideous laughter. Vargas quickly turned to the tactical screen. Adepts and servitors reacted furiously to identify the new threat.

  “Lord-chaplain, several orbital defence platforms just went active. I’m detecting laser batteries and torpedo bays.” The adept was shouting to overcome the alarm sirens.

  “Lord-chaplain, I’m detecting launch. We have an inbound torpedo salvo!”

  “You see Vargas! Do you finally see what a great disappointment you are to me?” With its final assault the voice cut off.

  Vargas felt his anger growing, but he was too experienced to allow that anger to completely take over.

  It was time to bring this to an end, to bring it to an end his way. He turned to give his instructions when a single voice came from the comm. It was the voice of Jeremiah Gieyus.

  “Lord Vargas—” Vargas cut off Jeremiah in mid sentence.

  “The target must be located, captured and brought to justice, captain. All other concerns are secondary. Do what you must to secure him. The threat of contamination is too great, and the time for covert operations is over. I will be sorting this my way.” Vargas gestured to the communications officer to close the channel.

  “Guidance, bring us within assault range. Activate shields and all weapons batteries,” his metallic voice commanded.

  Weapon and defensive system adepts repeated Vargas’s words back to him as they accomplished each command with lightning precision. The bridge access doors sprang open as two Dark Angels entered the bridge, taking positions on either side of the door. Should the ship be boarded they along with the adepts, servitors and Vargas would defend the bridge.

  Activating the inter-ship comms, Vargas continued, “Forward launch bay prepare and launch Thunderhawk Squad Alpha for defensive cover. Drop-pods prepare for immediate launch.”

  Returning his attention the bridge, he continued his commands, “Tactical control, display the current position of the Redemptor and all other vessels in the system.”

  Vargas turned to the tactical screen. A holographic image sprang to life. The planet Hyades was at the centre. Several ships floated at various orbits above the planet. The orbiters were mostly transports and cargo vessels in standard docking orbits. These ships posed no threat to the Vinco Redemptor. The defence platforms however were another matter.

  “How is it you missed the platforms on your initial scans?” Vargas demanded, clenching his gauntleted hands.

  “Their power grids must have been down as we approached, Lord Vargas, and we were too far away for visual confirmation,” the tactical officer replied, failing to hide the stress in his voice.

  Vargas was troubled by the fact that the defence platforms were left powered down. Not to mention that these defences had not been included in the intelligence reports. It wasn’t uncommon for planets like Hyades to have planetary defence platforms, but to leave them powered down to hide their presence was unheard of. Was it possible that the Fallen had set a trap for them? Well if it was a trap, the fools were about to catch far more than they could have imagined.

  “It would appear that we are in for a bigger fight than we expected. So much the better,” said Vargas, the anticipation in his voice coming through the metallic tone.

  Vargas stroked his rosarius and let his hand rest on the two black pearls hanging there. An interrogator-chaplain earned one black pearl for each Fallen who confessed his sins and sought redemption before his death. Today, he was determined to capture the Fallen that would bring him his
third pearl.

  The interrogator-chaplain stormed across to the bridge’s observation deck. From his vantage point, the massive ship stretched out before him. He could see its weapon batteries spring to life, powerful weapons capable of punching through a ship’s hull with ease. Planetary bombardment cannons rose from their enclosed bays, primarily used to soften a target prior to Space Marine deployment by orbital bombardment. However, that would not be their purpose this day, since there was no need to lay waste to the capital city… yet.

  Doors covering the massive torpedo bays retracted in preparation of their impending salvo. Vargas knew that within his ship’s hull, her crew moved to their assigned combat stations. Cybernetic servitors, half-man and half-machine, lumbered through their programmed duties, moving within areas of the ship where radiation, heat and the harsh bite of vacuum would not allow others to venture.

  The Dark Angels commander looked out from the pulpit on the observation deck as the battle-barge closed on Hyades. Small pinholes of light flashed through space towards the great vessel. The incoming torpedo salvo was almost upon them. Subconsciously he grabbed either side of his pulpit, preparing for the inevitable engagement.

  “It begins,” Vargas said to himself.

  “Lord-chaplain, impact with inbound torpedo salvo in twenty seconds,” the tactical adept declared.

  Twenty-four torpedoes cut across the void on a collision course with the Redemptor. The civilian transports and cargo ships between the torpedoes and their target banked and turned, making dramatic course changes and showing manoeuvring abilities more akin to warships in avoiding the oncoming wall of destruction. Weapons turrets aboard the battle-barge vomited a hail of defensive fire against the unexpected onslaught. Several torpedoes unable to alter course exploded while others fell horribly off course as they passed through the Redemptor’s defensive salvo. Four passed through the hail of defensive fire unscathed. Onboard klaxons trumpeted the impending collision.

  “Four torpedoes remain inbound,” the adept shouted, attempting to be heard over the alarm klaxons.