by Gav Thorpe
‘We could not save them.’ Agapito’s brow furrowed deeply and his jaw tightened. ‘But they did not need to speak to tell their story. The storms are dissipating – we have all witnessed it. The warp doesn’t boil with the same fury of even a month ago. Not for years have any on this side of the galaxy been able to penetrate the tempest, but now... Forces are coming west, daring the storm. These Ultramarines, and the Night Lords that brought them, must have come from the Five Hundred Worlds.’
‘There is another explanation,’ said Soukhounou. ‘Guilleman’s warriors have been despatched to other postings. They could have been on our side of the storm before the outbreak of the war.’
‘But why so many Night Lords, arriving from where?’ asked Corax. ‘I think Agapito is right. This force that beset us has newly arrived from somewhere else. The war against the Ultramarines would seem a likely source.’
‘But does that mean well or bad?’ said Branne. ‘If the Night Lords have come, does that mean they have won? We saw the Word Bearers and World Eaters go into the east and return. Maybe the Five Hundred Worlds are no more. The enemy have lifted the storm because it’s no longer needed to contain the Ultramarines and Blood Angels.’
‘And Dark Angels,’ added Noriz. ‘When I was at Deliverance there came rumours that the Lion led a great part of his Legion into the warp tempest. It is possible that our loyal brothers have triumphed and in doing so have broken the power of the storm.’
‘If that is the case they will make all speed for Terra,’ said Agapito. ‘We would be wise to join them.’
‘Our intelligence is incomplete,’ said Corax. ‘There are forces on both sides not accounted for. I learned that Horus attacks Beta-Garmon with great strength, but we are low on details. Is the Warmaster himself there, does his Legion battle in the system? Where are the Alpha Legion? The White Scars? The Wolves? My brothers, ally and traitor, each worth an army – where do they fight?’
‘I sense that you have a plan regardless, my lord,’ said Arcatus. ‘You do not summon councils to talk in circles.’
‘I do have a plan,’ said Corax, ‘or more exactly an approach. The time for small action is fast passing. Such as it is, we must fight with all the strength we have. The Raven Guard must come together, and such allies as we have remaining.’
‘You mean the Therions?’ said Branne. He sounded pensive at the thought.
‘Yes, the Therion Cohort. From the last communiqué of the vice-Caesari, they are not so far from here. Depending on how engaged they are, we would not have to wait long for them to join the muster, or perhaps rendezvous with them closer to our ultimate target.’
Branne simply nodded, whatever misgivings he had remaining unvoiced. Corax felt no urge to tease them out of the Raptors commander.
The primarch looked at Noriz and then at Arcatus.
‘I had hoped one or both of you would make representation to return to the Throneworld. I have no inclination to stand behind the walls built by Lord Dorn, but I am open to argument.’
Noriz looked at the others and then at Corax.
‘I do not doubt that I will see Terra again soon enough, my lord primarch, but I am content under your command until the time to return is obvious.’
‘Arcatus?’
‘It is not a time for hesitation, Lord Corax. Once committed, we must remain. I think there is yet time, as Captain Noriz says, to seek further injury of the traitors before we join the final defence. Simple mathematics of war suggest that time spent idle waiting for the enemy to attack diminishes our impact on the course of events. We are few in number and must maximise such multipliers as we can.’
‘True, but if the walls of Dorn are to be a multiplier, then every warrior we save to man them would count a hundred,’ argued Noriz. He smiled wryly. ‘But then I would say that. Even so, arriving in time rather than early would be fine by me.’
‘We need to know more of what occurs around Beta-Garmon,’ said Corax, ‘and the surest way to find out is to go ourselves. The closer we are to the action, the more certain the reports of it.’
‘Your commands, my lord?’ asked Agapito, standing as if eager to depart.
‘We have a while yet, and must make communication with the Therion Cohort before we depart. There are still several of our capital ships that have not yet arrived at the rendezvous, and such sustenance and supplies as we can glean from Rosario will be essential. As I see it, the war at Beta-Garmon will not be decided in days but perhaps months, even years. We can spend two more weeks here. I will assess the ongoing situation and order new movements and dispositions accordingly.’
Corax stood and dismissed them. Arendi lingered for a moment and received permission to remain with a single nod.
‘I did not mean to rebuff the honour of leading a company, Corax,’ he said. ‘I do not think company command best suits my attitude these days.’
‘And what attitude is that?’
‘To kill the traitors whenever and wherever possible.’
‘There is nothing wrong with such desire,’ said Corax. He moved around the table to stand in front of the legionary. ‘We should seek the death of our foes.’
‘But not to the exclusion of other considerations, am I correct?’ Arendi glanced over his shoulder, as if looking at the departed officers. ‘You need to be able to trust your leaders, now more than ever.’
‘What are you suggesting, Gherith?’ Corax demanded. ‘Who can I not trust?’
‘They are not traitors, that is not what I mean!’ Arendi said hurriedly. He cleared his throat. ‘Take Agapito. He’s as hungry for vengeance as I am. You don’t need two commanders spoiling for a fight, perhaps turning a blind eye or deaf ear to orders that might take them out of battle. And Noriz, and Arcatus, they will want to go to Terra at some point, no matter what they claim today. You cannot order them to remain, so what if they choose an inopportune moment to exercise their right to return to the Throneworld? If you are bringing all of us together again, every element of that fleet, every warrior in that force needs to be committed to the same ends as you are.’
Corax was silent, uncomfortable with Arendi’s assertions but not able to dismiss them out of hand.
‘And my place is here, next to you, my lord,’ Arendi concluded. ‘Bodyguard or not.’
He said nothing more and left. Not for the first time Corax’s thoughts were a whirl, an ever-changing universe of factors to ponder. He leaned on the table; the wood creaked under his weight.
It would be so easy to return to his father, to seek comfort and assurance from the Emperor. So simple to stand at the wall and follow the lead of Dorn.
And so weak, to deny the real task that had been set before him.
Four days before the fleet was set to jump from the system, as the twenty-two starships that had been assembled under Corax’s command accelerated towards the outer system, the astropaths and Librarians reported a movement of ships in the warp. Other vessels were in-bound. Arendi was with his primarch in the strategium of the Avenger when Balsar Kurthuri delivered the confirmation.
‘A small fleet, my lord, is our best estimate.’ The Librarian glanced away from Corax, aware that his vagueness was unacceptable, even though it was unavoidable. ‘Half a dozen at least, no more than a dozen.’
‘Warships?’ said Arendi when Corax remained silent. ‘Allegiance?’
‘Impossible to say. We have not broadcast any inquiries. The ships may not be heading to Rosario after all – better to not attract attention.’
‘We outnumber them,’ Arendi said, turning to his lord. ‘And we are in coherent formation. If the Night Lords have somehow followed us they will arrive piecemeal from the warp. Easy pickings.’
‘Do not be so sure,’ said Branne, approaching from the other side of the command deck. He stood next to Corax, who seemed lost in thought. ‘The traitors have a way with the warp tides �
�� we have seen it often. They will come together, I expect, as one fleet.’
‘And they will be destroyed as one fleet,’ said Arendi. ‘We still outnumber them.’
‘Only just,’ the primarch said at last, moving his eyes to Arendi and then Branne, his gaze quickly passing over the Librarian. ‘If we assume they are all capital ships, even a handful at full strength is two-thirds of our frontline vessels. And if they are a dozen... Regardless, it is a confrontation we cannot afford. We must minimise our losses until we can commit to a worthwhile battle.’
‘We run? Again?’ Branne did not wholly succeed in keeping the disappointment from his voice. Corax threw a hard look at the commander of the Raptors.
‘Have all my commanders become so desirous of battle that they would throw away victory to sate their bloodlust?’
Branne stepped back as though struck, stunned by the outburst. An awkward silence followed, into which Arendi ventured a further thought.
‘We might not fully choose the time and place of that confrontation, Corax. The First Axiom of Victory is an ideal, but in practical terms we might just have to fight whatever enemies are presented to us, when we get the chance.’
‘We take whatever fights we can get?’ Corax’s lip curled. ‘That is the nadir of our ambition. I vowed that Horus would rue the day he did not finish the Raven Guard at Isstvan. Time runs short to be true to my word, and I will not waste what might be the last telling blow of my Legion.’
‘Of course,’ said Arendi, suppressing any further dissent.
‘I...’ Kurthuri stopped even before he started. A twitch of the eye indicated that he was listening to his vox bead. The Librarian’s eyes widened with surprise. He sub-vocalised a reply and nodded as he received a response.
‘The omens favour us, my lord,’ he said. ‘Connra Deakon, our most senior astrotelepath, has received a direct communication from the incoming ships.’ The Librarian smiled and looked at the commanders. ‘They come from Deliverance, my friends. The ciphers and countersigns are all correct. Reinforcements from our home world.’
Corax immediately ordered his Chief Librarian to seek further confirmation of the incoming ships’ loyalty and identities and Kurthuri hurried away to comply. For a while neither the primarch nor his officers said anything, contemplating in silence the import of this news.
‘We did put out an encrypted call for all Raven Guard to assemble here,’ Branne said eventually, with a hint of a smile. ‘With the storms weakening, the astropaths’ signal must have reached as far as the Ravenspire!’
‘Or they had already left and were seeking us,’ said Arendi. ‘Even in the best conditions their progress would have to be miraculously swift to arrive so soon.’
‘True,’ conceded Branne. He flexed his fingers as if in anticipation. ‘How many, do you think? It’s been years since any forces arrived from Deliverance. How many legionaries have passed through in that time?’
‘Temper your excitement, commander,’ Corax said quietly. ‘Young, untested troops are of questionable value at this time. Given even the most generous timescale for their induction, enhancement and training, none of them can be more than six months into their black carapaces. And with little experience as Scouts to act as foundation.’
‘We were all such raw material once,’ said Arendi. He looked at his primarch, the immense warrior quizzical in his expression, and could not fight back a short laugh. ‘At least, those of us not personally created by the Emperor. Haven’t we been looking for some good news lately? Let’s be thankful for the small boons we get.’
Corax did not look convinced.
‘We shall see,’ he said. He started towards the portal of the strategium. ‘If all proves well, have the arriving fleet await us at jump distance and call for their commander to report to the Avenger as soon as possible.’
He did not wait for Branne’s affirmative, but strode from the main bridge, jaw set hard. The Raptors’ leader directed a look at Arendi.
‘He has lost too much to count many blessings,’ explained Branne. ‘He dare not allow himself hope.’
‘How can he fight on without hope? It doesn’t make any sense.’
‘Don’t confuse hope with belief, Gherith. Corax believes we will win. He has never doubted that – only the cost that will be paid.’
‘Primarchs, eh?’ Arendi let out an explosive breath. ‘I’ve just realised who he reminds me of. Himself. Before the Emperor came.’
‘What’s that?’
‘The primarch, he was like this before the uprising. Taking nothing for granted. Looking for the worst in any situation. Expecting bad news every day. As though anticipation of it could avoid calamity.’ Arendi stepped close to Branne and dropped his voice. ‘Everything is coming to a head, Branne. If I didn’t think it impossible, I would say our primarch was nervous.’
And with that disquieting thought shared, Arendi left the strategium to seek out the other former Shadow Wardens. He had an idea, which was as likely to get him into trouble as anything else.
Corax reviewed the ranks of black armoured warriors standing perfectly to attention in the main muster hall of the Ravenstrike. Four hundred and twenty-six Raven Guard, armoured in Mark VI war-plate manufactured on Kiavahr, armed with the latest bolter designs and heavy weapons. A similar number awaited inspection on two more battle-barges, freshly refitted at the docks of Natolli Prime. In all, one thousand, one hundred and forty-eight legionaries. With them they had brought four Natollian regiments, some six thousand Imperial Army veterans and the transports to carry them.
Corax remained stern as he strode along the front rank. The armour of the newcomers was painted in the flat black of the Raven Guard and they bore the Legion device and squad markings, but no company or battalion sigils. Arendi followed, just a step behind.
‘You seem eager, Gherith,’ the primarch remarked. ‘You dog my steps like a shadow.’
‘I was thinking, which is perhaps a poor use of my time, I know,’ said Arendi. ‘On what you said, about offering me command of the Falcons. I have reconsidered the offer.’
‘Yes?’ Corax stopped and turned on his heel. ‘You think I would extend the invitation again after being refused?’
Arendi showed no shame, and met his master’s gaze.
‘I don’t want the Falcons. I want these legionaries. My lord.’
Corax’s eyes narrowed.
‘Why?’
‘Fresh meat,’ Arendi replied quietly. ‘I mean, a fresh start. Clean cloth. Whatever you want to call it, a chance to set the future straight.’
‘And you’re the man to do that?’ Corax was unconvinced. ‘I made Branne my Master of Recruits for a reason.’
‘And gave him the Raptors,’ replied Arendi. He continued quickly as Corax’s displeasure increased. ‘Not that Branne had anything to do with... I mean, he is a fearsome warrior and leader...’
Corax’s silent glare forced Arendi to continue. ‘I miss my Shadow Wardens,’ he confessed. ‘It wasn’t about being your bodyguards. Even after the Legion came it was obvious that you were a greater fighter than any company of Space Marines. But we would always be close. Dependable. You trusted us to do whatever you commanded. Your hand, our blades.’
‘You said I could not trust you, only weeks ago. You made a good point. Of all my ranked officers, you are the least stable. Why should I believe you now?’
‘Because I was wrong?’ Arendi’s stare had not moved from the primarch. Corax’s attention flicked to the pale stripes of his facial scars and back to his eyes. The legionary read the primarch’s meaning. He pointed to the claw marks. ‘I said I was after revenge. Perhaps I still am. But there are different ways of getting back at the traitors. It was Agapito who told me you once said “Victory is Vengeance”. Well, maybe leading a thousand new Shadow Wardens against the traitors is vengeance too.’
They reach
ed the end of the line and Corax gestured to the officer at the end to step forward.
‘Name?’ asked the primarch.
‘Shray Chayvon, my lord,’ replied the officer. ‘Provisional lieutenant, my lord.’
‘There are forty-one of my original Shadow Wardens left, scattered through the other companies,’ Arendi continued. ‘A perfect officer corps.’
‘You do not have time to train them in the manner of the Shadow Wardens,’ Corax countered, then turned back to Chayvon. ‘Well turned out, lieutenant. What do you want to do now?’
‘My lord?’ The officer’s expression was hidden by the baleen-snouted mask of his Mark VI armour, but his confusion was obvious.
‘You are a Space Marine of the Emperor, a legionary of the Raven Guard. You aspired to this since you were old enough to know who we were, yes?’
‘Yes, my lord! I have always hoped to serve you in the Legion.’
‘And now that you are a Raven Guard, what do you want to do, Lieutenant?’
The officer reflexively glanced towards Arendi for guidance.
‘Just say what’s on your mind,’ Arendi told him. ‘The truth.’
‘I want to kill traitors, my lord,’ said the officer. ‘That’s what I’ve been trained to do.’
Arendi laughed. Corax was not so humoured. The words reminded him of Halvar Diaro, one of the initial Raptors, those who had come to be known amongst their company brothers as the First Nine. All were dead now. One of the curses of his primarch heritage, Corax’s memory meant he could recall the death reports of every warrior that had ever served under him. Diaro had been split in half by a traitor lascannon at Mourner’s Drift. The primarch motioned for Chayvon to return to the line.
‘You are right of course, my lord – I don’t have time to train them as your Shadow Wardens,’ Arendi said. ‘But then again, we’re not fighting prison guards or orks. We’re going to kill traitor legionaries. I reviewed the armoury manifests. There’s a big consignment of heavy and support weapons from Kiavahr with the reinforcements. New blood might be better used that way than right at the sharp end of an attack or a bodyguard. We’re going to get into a straight-up fight soon enough, Corax. Some big guns never hurt.’
