Galaxy in Flames

by Ben Counter

  'What of the saint?' asked a voice from the crowd. 'We want to see her!'

  Sindermann held up a hand and said, 'The saint is fortunate to be alive. She is well, but she still sleeps. Some of you have heard that she is awake, and that she has spoken, but regrettably this is not the case.'

  A disappointed buzz spread throughout the crowd, angry at Sindermann's denial of what many of them desperately wanted to believe. Sindermann was reminded of the speeches he had given on newly-compliant worlds, where he had used his iterator's wiles to extol the virtues of the Imperial Truth.

  Now he had to use those same skills to give these people hope.

  'The saint still sleeps, it's true, but for one brief, shining moment she arose from her slumbers to

  save my life. I saw her eyes open and I know that when we need her, she will come back to us. Until then we must walk warily, for there are those in the fleet who would destroy us for our beliefs. The very fact that we must meet in secret and rely on armed guards to keep us safe is a reminder that Mal-oghurst himself regularly sends troops to break up the meetings of the Lectitio Divinitatus. People have been killed and their blood is on the hands of the Astartes. Ignace Karkasy, Emperor rest his soul, knew the dangers of an unchecked Astartes before any of us realised their hands were around our throats.

  'Once, I could not believe in such things as saints. I had trained myself to accept only logic and science, and to cast aside religion as superstiВ­tion. Magic and miracles were impossible, simply the invention of ignorant people struggling to understand their world. It took the sacrifice of the saint to show me how arrogant I was. I saw how the Emperor protects, but she has shown me that there is so much more than that, for, if the Emperor protects His faithful, who protects the Emperor?' Sindermann let the question hang. 'We must,' said Titus Cassar, pushing his way towards the front of the crowd and turning to address them. Sindermann had placed Cassar in the crowd with specific instructions on when to speak – a basic ploy of the iterators to reinforce their message.

  We must protect the Emperor, for there is no one else,’ said Cassar. The moderati looked back at Sin-dermann. 'But we must stay alive in order to do so. Is that not right, iterator?'

  'Yes,’ said Sindermann. 'The faith that this conВ­gregation has displayed has caused such fear in the higher echelons of the fleet that they are tryВ­ing to destroy us. The Emperor has an enemy here; of that I am sure. We must survive and we must stand against that enemy when it finally reveals itself,’

  Worried and angry murmurings spread through the crowd as the deadly nature of the threat sank in. 'Faithful friends,’ said Sindermann, 'the dangers we face are great, but the saint is with us and she needs shelter. Shelter we can best achieve alone, but watch for the signs and be safe. Spread the word of her safety,’

  Cassar moved through the congregation, instructВ­ing them to return to their posts. Reassured by Sindermann's words, they gradually began to disВ­perse. As he watched them go, Sindermann wondered how many of them would live through the coming days.

  The Gallery of Swords ran the length of the Andro-nius like the ship's gilded spine. Its roof was transparent and the space beneath was lit by the fire of distant stars. Hundreds of statues lined the gallery, heroes of the Emperor's Children with gem-stone eyes and stern expressions of judgement. The

  worth of a hero was said to be measured by how long he could meet their gaze while walking the length of the Gallery of Swords beneath their unforВ­giving eyes.

  Tarvitz held his head high as he entered the gallery, though he knew he was no hero, simply a warrior who did his best. Chapter Masters and commanders from long ago glared at him, their names and noble countenances known and revered by every warrior of the Emperor's Children. Entire wings of the Andronius were given over to the fallen battle-brothers of the Legion, but it was here that every warrior hoped to be remembered.

  Tarvitz had no expectation of his visage ending up here, but he would strive to end his days in a manner that might be considered worthy of such an honour. Even if such a lofty goal was impossible, it was something to aspire to.

  Eidolon stood before the graven image of Lord Commander Teliosa, the hero of the Madrivane Campaign, and even before Tarvitz drew near he turned to face him.

  'Captain Tarvitz,’ said Eidolon. 'I have rarely seen you here,’

  'It is not my natural habitat, commander,’ replied Tarvitz. 'I leave the heroes of our Legion to their rest,’

  Then what brings you here now?' 'I would speak with you if you would permit me,’ 'Surely your time is better spent attending to your warriors, Tarvitz. That is where your talents lie,’

  You honour me by saying so, commander, but there is something I need to ask you.'

  'About?'

  The death of the Warsinger.'

  'Ah,’ Eidolon looked up at the statue towering over them, the hollow eyes regarding them with a cold, unflinching gaze. 'She was quite an adversary; absolutely corrupt, but that corruption gave her strength.'

  'I need to know how you killed her.'

  'Captain? You speak as if to an equal,’

  'I saw what you did, commander,’ Tarvitz pressed. That scream, it was some… I don't know… some power I've never heard of before,’

  Eidolon held up a hand. 'I can understand why you have questions, and I can answer them, but perhaps it would be better for me to show you. FolВ­low me,’

  Tarvitz followed the lord commander as they walked further down the Gallery of Swords, turnВ­ing into a side passage with sheets of parchment pinned along the length of its walls. Accounts of glorious actions from the Legion's past were meticulously recorded on them and novices of the Legion were required to memorise the many different battles before their elevation to full Astartes.

  The Emperor's Children did more than just remember their triumphs; they proclaimed them, because the perfection of the Legion's way of war deserved celebrating.

  'Do you know why I fought the Warsinger?' asked Eidolon.

  my?'

  Yes, captain, why,’

  'Because that is how the Emperor's Children fight,’

  'Explain,’

  'Our heroes lead from the front. The rest of the Legion is inspired to follow their example. They can do this because the Legion fights with such artistry that they are not rendered vulnerable by fighting at the fore,’

  Eidolon smiled. 'Very good, captain. I should have you instruct the novices. And you yourself, would you lead from the front?'

  Sudden hope flared in Tarvitz's breast. 'Of course! Given the chance, I would. I had not thought you considered me worthy of such a role,’

  'You are not, Tarvitz. You are a file officer and nothing more,’ said Eidolon, crashing his faint hope that he had been about to be offered a way of proving his mettle as a leader and a hero.

  'I say this not as an insult,’ Eidolon continued, apparently oblivious to the insult it clearly was. 'Men like you fulfil an important role in our Legion, but I am one of Fulgrim's chosen. The pri-march chose me and elevated me to the position I now hold. He looked upon me and saw in me the qualities needed to lead the Emperor's Children. He looked upon you, and did not. Because of this, I understand the responsibilities that come with

  being Fulgrim's chosen in a way that you cannot, Captain Tarvitz,’

  Eidolon led him to a grand staircase that curved downwards into a large hall tiled with white marble. Tarvitz recognised it as one of the entrances to the ship's apothecarion, where the injured from Isstvan Extremis had been brought only a few hours before.

  'I think you underestimate me, lord commander,’ said Tarvitz, 'but understand that for the sake of my men I must know-'

  'For the sake of our men we all make sacrifices,’ snapped Eidolon. 'For the chosen, those sacrifices are great. Foremost among these is that fact that everything is secondary to victory,’

  'Comma
nder, I don't understand,’

  'You will,’ said Eidolon, leading him through a gilded archway and into the central apothecarion.

  'The book?' asked Torgaddon.

  The book,’ repeated Loken. 'It's the key. Erebus is on the ship, I know it,’

  The ashen darkness of Archive Chamber Three was one of the few places left on the Vengeful Spirit where Loken felt at home, remembering many a lively debate with Kyril Sindermann in simpler times. Loken had not seen the iterator for weeks and he fervently hoped that the old man was safe, that he had not fallen foul of Maloghurst or his faceless soldiers.

  'Abaddon and the others must be keeping him safe,’ said Torgaddon.

  Loken sighed. 'How did it come to this? I would have given my life for Abaddon, Aximand, too, and I know they would have done the same for me,’

  'We can't give up on this, Garviel. There will be a way out of this. We can bring the Moumival back together, or at least make sure the Warmaster sees what Erebus is doing,’

  Whatever that is,’

  Yes, whatever that is. Guest of the lodge or not, he's not welcome on my ship. He's the key. If we find him, we can expose what's going on to the Warmaster and end this,’

  'You really believe that?'

  'I don't know, but that won't stop me trying,’

  Torgaddon looked around him, stirring the ashes of the charred books on the shelves with a finger and said, Why did you have to meet me here? It smells like a funeral pyre,’

  'Because no one ever comes here,’ said Loken.

  'I can't imagine why, seeing as how pleasant it is,’

  'Don't be flippant, Tarik, not now. The Great CruВ­sade was once about bringing illumination to the far corners of the galaxy, but now it is afraid of knowledge. The more we learn, the more we quesВ­tion and the more we question the more we see through the lies perpetrated upon us. To those who want to control us, books are dangerous,’

  'Iterator Loken,’ laughed Torgaddon, 'you've enlightened me,’

  'I had a good teacher,’ said Loken, again thinking of Kyril Sindermann, and the fact that everything he

  had been taught to believe was being shaken to its core. 'And there's more at stake here than a split between Astartes. It's… It's philosophy, ideology, religion even… everything. Kyril taught me that this kind of blind obedience is what led to the Age of Strife. We've crossed the galaxy to bring peace and illumination, but the cause of our downfall could be right here amongst us.'

  Torgaddon leaned over and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. 'Listen, we're about to go into battle on Isstvan III and the word from the Death Guard is that the enemy is led by some kind of psyВ­chic monsters that can kill with a scream. They're not the enemy because they read the wrong books or anything like that; they're the enemy because the Warmaster tells us they are. Forget about all this for a while. Go and fight. That'll put some perspective on things,’

  'Do you even know if we'll be headed down there?'

  'The Warmaster's picked the squads for the speartip. We're in it, and it looks as if we'll be in charge, too.'

  'Really? After all that's happened?

  'I know, but I won't look a gift horse in the mouth,’

  At least I'll have the Tenth with me,’

  Torgaddon shook his head. 'Not quite. The War-master hasn't chosen the speartip by company. It's squad by squad,’

  'Why?'

  'Because he thinks that confused look on your face is funny,’

  'Please. Be serious, Tarik,’

  Torgaddon shrugged. The Warmaster knows what he's doing. It won't be an easy battle. We'll be dropВ­ping right on top of the city,’

  What about Locasta?'

  'You'll have them. I don't think you could have held Vipus back anyway. You know what he's like, he'd have stowed away on a drop-pod if he'd been left out. He's like you, he needs to clear his head with a good dose of fighting. After Isstvan things will get back to normal,’

  'Good. I'll feel a lot better with Locasta backing us up,’

  'Well, it's true that you need the help,’ smiled TorВ­gaddon.

  Loken chuckled, not because Torgaddon was actually funny, but because even after everything he was still the same, a person that he could trust and a friend he could rely on.

  You're right, Tarik,’ said Loken. 'After Isstvan everything will be different,’

  The central apothecarion gleamed with glass and steel, dozens of medical cells branching off from the circular hub of the main laboratory. Tarvitz felt a chill travel the length of his spine as he saw Captain Odovocar's ruined body susВ­pended in a stasis tank, waiting for its gene-seed to be harvested.

  Eidolon marched through the hub and down a tiled corridor that led into a gilded vestibule domiВ­nated by a huge mosaic depicting Fulgrim's victory at Tarsus, where the primarch had vanquished the deceitful eldar despite his many grievous wounds. Eidolon reached up and pressed one of the enamВ­elled chips that formed Fulgrim's belt, standing back as the mosaic arced upwards, revealing a glowВ­ing passageway and winding spiral staircase beyond. Eidolon strode down the passageway, indiВ­cating that Tarvitz should follow him.

  The lack of ornamentation was a contrast to the rest of the Andronius and Tarvitz saw a cold blue glow emanating from whatever lay below as he made his way down the stairs. As they reached the end of their descent, Eidolon turned to him and said, This, Captain Tarvitz, is your answer.'

  The blue light shone from a dozen ceiling-high translucent cylinders that stood against the sides of the room. Each was filled with liquid with indisВ­tinct shapes suspended in them – some roughly humanoid, some more like collections of organs or body parts. The rest of the room was taken up by gleaming laboratory benches covered in equipВ­ment, some with purposes he couldn't even begin to guess at.

  He moved from tank to tank, repulsed as he saw that some were full of monstrously bloated flesh that was barely contained by the glass.

  "What is this?' asked Tarvitz in horror at such grotesque sights.

  'I fear my explanations would be insufficient,' said Eidolon, walking towards an archway leading into the next room. Tarvitz followed him, peering more closely at the cylinders as he passed. One conВ­tained an Astartes-sized body, but not a corpse, more like something that had never been born, its features sunken and half-formed.

  Another cylinder contained only a head, but one which had large, multi-faceted eyes like an insect. As he looked closer, Tarvitz realised with sick horВ­ror mat the eyes had not been grafted on, for he saw no scars and the skull had reshaped itself to accomВ­modate them. They had been grown there. He moved on to the last cylinder, seeing a mass of brains linked by fleshy cables held in liquid susВ­pension, each one with extra lobes bulging like tumours.

  Tarvitz felt a profound chill coming from the next room, its walls lined with refrigerated metal cabiВ­nets. He briefly wondered what was in them, but decided he didn't want to know as his imagination conjured all manner of deformities and mutations. A single operating slab filled the centre of the room, easily large enough for an Astartes warrior to be restrained upon, with a chirargeon device mounted on the ceiling above.

  Neatly cut sections of muscle fibre were spread across the slab. Apothecary Fabius bent over them, the hissing probes and needles of his narthecium embedded in a dark mass of glistening meat.

  'Apothecary,’ said Eidolon, 'the captain wishes to know of our enterprise,’

  Fabius looked up in surprise, his long intelligent face framed by a mane of fine blond hair. Only his eyes were out of place, small and dark, set into his skull like black pearls. He wore a floor-length med-icae gown, blood streaking its pristine whiteness with runnels of crimson.

  'Really?' said Fabius. 'I had not been made aware that Captain Tarvitz was among our esteemed comВ­pany,’

  'He is not,’ said Eidolon. 'Not yet anyway,в�
�™

  'Then why is he here?'

  'My own alterations have come to light,’

  'Ah, I see,’ nodded Fabius.

  What is going on here?' asked Tarvitz sharply. 'What is this place?'

  Fabius cocked an eyebrow. 'So you have seen the results of the commander's augmentations, have you?'

  'Is he a psyker?' demanded Tarvitz.

  'No, no, no!' laughed Fabius. 'He is not. The lord commander's abilities are the result of a tracheal implant combined with alteration in the gene-seed rhythms. He is something of a success. His powers are metabolic and chemical, not psychic,’

  You have altered the geneseed?' breathed Tarvitz in shock. The gene-seed is the blood of our primarch… When he discovers what you are doing here…'

  'Don't be naive, captain,’ said Fabius. Who do you think ordered us to proceed?'

  'No,’ said Tarvitz. 'He wouldn't-' That is why I had to show you this, captain,’ said Eidolon. 'You remember the Cleansing of Laeran?' 'Of course,’ answered Tarvitz. 'Our primarch saw what the Laer had achieved by chemical and genetic manipulation of their biologВ­ical structure in their drive for physical perfection. The Lord Fulgrim has great plans for our Legion, Tarvitz, the Emperor's Children cannot be content to sit on their laurels while our fellow Astartes win the same dull victories. We must continue to strive towards perfection, but we are fast reaching the point where even an Astartes cannot match the standards Lord Fulgrim and the Warmaster demand. To meet those standards, we must change. We must evolve,’

  Tarvitz backed away from the operating slab. The Emperor created Lord Fulgrim to be the perfect warrior and the Legion's warriors were moulded in his image. That image is what we strive towards. Holding a xenos race up as an example of perfecВ­tion is an abomination!'

  'An abomination?' said Eidolon. 'Tarvitz, you are brave and disciplined, and your warriors respect you, but you do not have the imagination to see where this work can lead us. You must realise that the Legion's supremacy is of greater importance than any mortal squeamishness,’