Ravenwing

by Gav Thorpe

  ‘Thank you, brother,’ said the warrior of the Fifth Company. ‘In your place I would not have lasted a handful of seconds.’

  ‘You are confused, brother,’ said Annael, though he understood Telemenus’s intent. Having fought already, Sabrael could not issue any further challenge. Each warrior could fight only once, to prevent bullying or glory-seeking. ‘I did not act to preserve your honour. I know you Telemenus, and you are not so dissimilar to Sabrael. It was not to save your humiliation that I acted, but in an attempt to forestall Sabrael’s victory. In that, I have failed.’

  ‘Yet you have my thanks again, whether sought or not,’ said Telemenus. Annael said nothing and the other Dark Angel eventually turned away, returning with his brothers to take his place against the far wall.

  Standing next to Sabrael, back to the wall, Annael looked at his neighbour. Sabrael felt Annael’s gaze and turned his head, a smile on his lips.

  ‘I see Telemenus spoke with you,’ he said. ‘No doubt grateful for your intervention.’

  Annael nodded but said nothing.

  ‘I must offer thanks for the interruption also,’ said Sabrael. ‘It was childish of me to seek to spoil Telemenus’s occasion. He has earned his laurels and I should not have sought to mar his moment.’

  ‘I am happy to be of service,’ said Annael.

  ‘Also,’ added Sabrael, nudging Annael with his elbow, ‘fighting Telemenus was just a matter of honour. I actually enjoyed beating you, brother.’

  ‘And I take no shame from the loss,’ said Annael. He extended a hand and Sabrael took it. ‘Brother.’

  Four

  THYESTES

  Guile and Subterfuge

  The situation at Thyestes was painfully similar to events at Piscina. As Sammael started briefing Harahel, Seraphiel and Malcifer, it was clear to him that there was some greater plan at work than first appeared. Methelas’s influence seemed to be everywhere, and the Grand Master had brought his two officers to council directly after he had ended his communication with Lasper Drazinoff, the Imperial Commander of the world. A hazy, static broken hololith of Seraphiel hovered between the Chaplain and Librarian as Sammael paced back and forth at the head of the console desk.

  ‘Thyestes Five is a world embattled,’ the Grand Master told his companions. ‘The Imperial Commander is still loyal to the Emperor and is grateful for any assistance he might receive. There is no guarantee that Methelas has returned here, but someone has been fomenting rebellion for some time, over a decade in fact. Anti-Imperial factions have secretly been uniting for many years, leading to an outright rebellion that started two-hundred-and-forty-two days ago. Much of the populace has been corrupted by an anti-Imperial sect, and according to what Drazinoff has just told me there are remarkable correspondences to the Unworthy and Divine we destroyed at Port Imperial. If not currently leading the insurrection, I am convinced that Methelas must be sponsoring and supporting the uprising in some way.’

  ‘We need to discover whether Methelas is here,’ said Malcifer. ‘As with Piscina, we cannot become embroiled in a prolonged engagement, unless it will serve to capture the Fallen.’

  ‘Harahel, can you provide any assistance in this matter?’ asked Sammael. ‘Any inclination that Methelas may be on Thyestes Five?’

  ‘There have been some reports of psychic activity logged by the local Adeptus Arbites, but nothing upon which to base a solid conclusion,’ said the Epistolary. ‘If you can get me closer to a probable location, I would be able to tell if someone as powerful as a Space Marine Librarian is tapping into the warp. From orbit, there is no way to be sure, not for someone of my limited rank and ability.’

  ‘There still exists the option to send for the Tower of Angels,’ said Seraphiel. ‘Not to abrogate any decision on our part, but to better deal with the forces we are likely to face. Planet-wide rebellion is difficult to counter with less than two full companies.’

  ‘Brother-sergeant, you are correct to be pessimistic,’ said Sammael. ‘Unlike Hadria Praetoris, we do not know the location of the enemy stronghold or command. There is no swift victory for the Dark Angels here. The insurgents are a powerful but dispersed forced, with no central authority or geographic location that has been detected. I believe that Methelas is responsible, and there will be a headquarters somewhere on Thyestes Five, but that is only suspicion. The Imperial Commander has access to sophisticated orbital stations, which have not furnished any usable information regarding the rebels’ lines of supply, strategy or disposition.’

  ‘Surely the planetary defence force have some idea where they might battle their foes,’ said Malcifer.

  ‘The Thyestes Provosts are waging a defensive battle, and losing badly,’ said Sammael. ‘Not knowing where they might be attacked next, the Imperial Commander and his men have been forced into an ever more defensive stance, retreating to keeps and bunker lines while the enemy bring terror to the wider populace.’

  ‘This may prove a challenge too great for the force we have,’ said Seraphiel. ‘I return to my earlier point. The Tower of Angels can be contacted and greater strength, and wisdom, brought to bear upon the problem.’

  ‘Time is against us, and not just in the possibility of wasting precious resources seeking Methelas where he will not be found,’ said Sammael. ‘As soon as the insurgency began, Imperial Commander Drazinoff sent word by astropath of the deteriorating situation. Sooner or later, the Departmento Munitorum will mobilise the Imperial Navy and the Imperial Guard and a military force will arrive.’

  ‘Given that the nature of the threat is rebellion, the matter will come to the attention of at least one inquisitor,’ said Malcifer. He clenched his fists. ‘We stand between the beast and the abyss. On the one hand, if Methelas is here and we delay, we run the risk that one of the Fallen is captured by forces not of the Chapter.’

  ‘That cannot be allowed,’ said Sammael, shaking his head vehemently.

  For ten thousand long years the Dark Angels had kept their secret from prying eyes. Inquisitors came and went, but the truth of the Fallen remained the sole property of the Chapter. Sammael’s name would become as infamous as the likes of the thrice-cursed traitor if he was the first Grand Master of the Ravenwing to allow a Fallen to be taken into the clutches of the Inquisition. It would spell disaster for the Chapter and the Successors. The Unforgiven would be shamed across the galaxy for their failings; perhaps even destroyed for the measures they had taken subsequently to conceal their dark secret. In the eyes of their fellow Space Marines, and before the Emperor Himself, they would be dishonoured.

  ‘An alternative peril is to engage in the fighting here, encountering only delays and casualties while Methelas makes good his escape,’ said Malcifer. He shook his head. ‘This is a decision that you alone can make, Grand Master.’

  ‘Not without counsel,’ Sammael replied. ‘I refuse to choose between vague improbabilities. As with Piscina, we must cut through the fog and seek the heart of the matter. If Methelas is present, he must possess some form of base of operations.’

  ‘Not if he intended Port Imperial to be his base, Grand Master,’ interjected Seraphiel. ‘We would be wiser looking for the ship that brought him here.’

  ‘No,’ said Sammael. ‘Thyestes has considerable orbital augurs and defences. If the Scar committed any warlike act, it would have been easily destroyed. There are no warships currently in orbit, that much is certain.’

  ‘But Scar was not due to return to Port Imperial,’ said Seraphiel.

  ‘Which means that there was something else for the ship and crew to do,’ said Harahel. He cleared his throat, a sign of agitation. ‘It matters not. If Scar was ever here, it arrived under cover and departed the same. The surest route, and the swiftest, will be to locate the enemy headquarters, whomever may be in command, and learn what we must from there.’

  ‘And how do you suppose we succeed where the Imperial Commander a
nd all of his forces have failed?’ said Sammael. ‘If you can find me a target I will lead the strike.’

  ‘The rebels are fighting for an ideal, not territory,’ said Harahel. ‘Their attacks seem sporadic, random. They are perhaps politically motivated, but we cannot deduce from their locations any intent or scheme. Instead, we must lure the rebels into revealing themselves.’

  ‘It must be carefully done,’ said Malcifer. ‘It is my worry that should Methelas learn of our presence here he will flee.’

  ‘With the Penitent Warrior and Implacable Justice on hand, the orbital cordon is solid,’ said Sammael. ‘If Methelas is on the surface, he will be trapped. Brother-Epistolary, I still do not see how we can force the rebels to reveal the whereabouts of any base or headquarters.’

  ‘We must give them something so valuable that they will take it to their most secure facility,’ said Harahel. ‘If we can offer up a prize worthy enough, they will take it back to their lair like ants delivering food to their queen.’

  Sammael considered this for some time, trying to think of alternative courses of action. Eventually he nodded, liking what he heard.

  ‘What do you propose we offer as bait to the trap?’ he asked Harahel.

  ‘We will use the Imperial Commander as the prize.’ The suggestion was met with silence. Harahel looked from Malcifer to Sammael and back again. ‘Why does my suggestion elicit such shock, brothers?’

  ‘You cannot expect me to easily agree to sacrifice an Imperial Commander on the slim chance that his capture will reveal the identity of the rebel leader?’ Sammael leaned on the hololith slab with both hands, shaking his head. ‘The risks are too great.’

  ‘He is only a single man,’ said Malcifer, the words slow and quiet as he came round to the idea.

  ‘The world is unstable enough already, and the loss of the governor could tip more people towards the rebellion,’ said Sammael. The horror of Piscina IV’s collapse was fresh in his mind and he would save Thyestes V that trouble. ‘It might be the case that we leave the matter as it is for the moment. The Imperial Guard will arrive and their numbers will eventually grind down the opposition forces and bring the planet back under total Imperial control. At all times we stand ready to act should Methelas reveal his presence.’

  ‘There is no conflict between the desire to hunt Methelas and the military needs of Thyestes Five,’ said Malcifer. The Chaplain leaned back, clasping his hands in his lap. ‘Regardless of whether the rebel commander is Methelas, if we can locate an enemy stronghold, we can decapitate the enemy command in a single stroke, as we did at Hadria Praetoria. If it turns out that one of the Fallen is leading the rebellion, then we will capture him and take him back to the Tower of Angels to confess his crimes.’

  ‘There is considerable uncertainty in that proposal, Brother-Chaplain,’ said Sammael, though Malcifer’s argument was convincing. The Grand Master straightened and turned away, so that he did not see the eyes of the others upon him. He cleared his thoughts and tried to think objectively about the situation analysing his misgivings.

  Using the Imperial Commander felt dishonourable. Whatever plan he concocted to deliver Drazinoff to the rebels, he could not do so with the compliance of the Imperial Commander. That would mean lying, and quite possibly collaborating with the rebels in some fashion.

  Had he the luxury of this being just any other war, Sammael would have spoken up then, refusing Harahel’s plan outright. As it was, he had a higher duty calling to him; the hunt for the Fallen. There were strong suspicions that Methelas was somewhere on Thyestes V, and if that was the case Sammael was beholden to his oaths as Master of the Ravenwing to use any and all means to bring his prey to account. His predecessors had sacrificed worlds to that cause, was he any less of a Dark Angel?

  ‘How will we do it?’ he asked, turning to Harahel, knowing that to ask the question was to give consent, if only for the moment.

  ‘We will tell the Imperial Commander that we have solid information that his palace has been infiltrated by rebels and that they are planning another offensive soon,’ said Harahel, his gaze distant as he thought through the scheme. ‘You will suggest an alternative location where he will be safe with just a handful of guards. Meanwhile, the nature of this move will be leaked to the rebels. I am sure that the Provosts make unsecured communications all of the time, we simply need to replicate their carelessness.’

  ‘So, Drazinoff will be intercepted by the rebels en route to this new location?’ said Seraphiel. ‘Rather than a few guards, it would be better that he is escorted by some of my squads. I shall take personal command and ensure that he is delivered up to the rebels without them becoming suspicious.’

  ‘You agree with this ploy?’ asked Sammael.

  ‘If we are to do this, it is better it is done properly,’ said the veteran sergeant. ‘My approval is irrelevant, if you give the command, Grand Master.’

  ‘Very well,’ said Sammael. The others were making it abundantly clear that they considered him the final and solitary authority, and by his word alone would the subterfuge be undertaken. In other company he might have suspected that his companions were protecting themselves against reproach, but he knew better. As he faced this almost impossible decision, all three were giving him that unequivocal support, whatever decision he made.

  ‘Once Drazinoff is with the rebels, they will take him to their headquarters, we shall track them and the target is revealed,’ said the Grand Master. ‘Simple, yet effective.’

  ‘There are no certainties,’ warned Harahel. ‘If Methelas leaves his lair to meet his captive we may not be aware of the fact.’

  ‘We have to stay close to the bait,’ said Sammael. ‘You will have to stay close to the bait. If Methelas makes a move, you must be on hand to detect him. I will have the Ravenwing on constant drop stand-by. We strike as soon as we are able. Seraphiel, your Fifth Company will remain on the ground after the failed escort, ready to respond and provide support.’

  Sammael turned away again, conscious of the decision he had made. He told himself that removing Methelas, or whoever was leading the rebels, was the best way to bring peace to Thyestes V. Were he to be offered the choice, Drazinoff might well agree with the plan.

  The Imperial Commander was not being offered the choice, and Sammael knew he risked greater tumult and prolonging the war if the ploy failed. There were too many variables for the plan to be justified in purely military terms: if Drazinoff was killed; if the Ravenwing were unable to track the rebels; if the enemy commander was not killed or captured. Yet Sammael was able to justify his decision all too easily when he considered the honour of the Chapter was at stake. Compared to the loss of a world, the loss of the Dark Angels’ reputation was a tragedy that would endanger many more billions of lives in the longer term.

  Faced with the machinations of the Fallen, Sammael had no other choice.

  The Stakes are Raised

  ‘Entering the forest,’ Sergeant Atleus reported from the lead Rhino transport.

  From his vantage point in the cupola of the fourth and final vehicle in the column, Telemenus could see the woods thickening to either side of the broad highway, the embankments to the left and right growing steeper and more overgrown with bushes.

  Twenty metres behind the Rhino of Squad Atleus was Castigator, a Dark Angels Predator tank armed with lascannons and heavy bolters. The gunners in the turret and sponsons swivelled their weapons to and fro as they searched the woods for threats. Telemenus curled his fingers around the grip of the storm bolter in front of him and swung right in the cupola, sighting up the steep hill to the side of the convoy. He noticed the newly-painted laurels on the badge upon his arm and smiled inside his helm. To return to the Rock with such decoration would be a pleasure, though achieving the marksman’s laurels had not provided the lift to his spirit he had expected. The circumstances surrounding the recent campaign nagged at him.

&nb
sp; ‘Sector clear,’ he announced to Sergeant Amanael in the troop compartment below him.

  Halfway between the rear Rhino and Castigator was Imperial Commander Drazinoff’s personal carrier. Its basic chassis was the same as the Chimera transports used by the Imperial Guard and many planetary defence forces across the Imperium. This particular variant of the ubiquitous design boasted thicker armour plates fixed atop the roof where normally a firing hatch was located. A remote-operated missile launcher dominated the front of the vehicle, next to the rotating dish of an enhanced communications array. Whatever happened, the Imperial Commander wanted to stay in contact with his forces.

  ‘Kaspor Gorge two kilometres ahead,’ said Sergeant Seraphiel. The Fifth Company’s commander was riding below with Squad Amanael. ‘Scanners clear.’

  During his briefing, Seraphiel had made it clear that the narrow gorge, nearly four kilometres long, would be the most likely site of an enemy attack. The vehicles would have little room to manoeuvre, and any ambushing foe would have the advantage of the heights rising up several hundred metres on both sides of the road. The downside of the area, from an attacker’s perspective, was the rough terrain stretching for dozens of kilometres around the gorge; dense forest and a rocky mountain pass barred access to wheeled and tracked vehicles. If the enemy attacked, it would be on foot.

  Telemenus had been confused by the emphasis placed on the gorge, and Seraphiel’s description of it. While highlighting the unlikelihood of any rebel attack on the column, the company commander had seemed almost convinced that there would be trouble at Kaspor Gorge. When Amanael had made inquiry into the under-strength nature of the column, Seraphiel had been keen to point out that secrecy and speed would be the best protection for the Imperial Commander, which accounted for the lack of close support air cover and the small escort.