Word Bearers

by Anthony Reynolds

  Thousands died in the first moments of the fusillade. Tens of thousands died in the next.

  None of the ships of the Hosts had yet entered the asteroid belt – only the sacrificial slave vessels of the cultists had advanced into that deadly arena. Now, as they drew nearer, the Word Bearers unleashed the power of their battleships. An indiscriminate blanket of fire was directed into the asteroid belt. The weight of ordnance was staggering, destroying everything in its path: mines, asteroids, concealed lance batteries and slave ships alike were ripped apart.

  The wretched slave-ships had done their duty. Singing praises to their XVII Legion benefactors and with prayers of thanks upon their tortured lips, their crews had gone to their deaths willingly, desperate to serve their infernal masters. Their deaths had cleared a path for their masters and revealed the hidden guns of the Imperials.

  ‘We are being hailed,’ said Kol Badar.

  ‘Bring it up,’ ordered Marduk.

  The image of Ekodas reappeared, the five-metre-high vid-screen free of interference and filled with his glowering face. His jet-black eyes were filled with reflected hellfire.

  Marduk began running through conditioning exercises and mantras, trying to seal his mind against intrusion. He didn’t know if Ekodas were capable of penetrating his thoughts from afar, but he wanted to be prepared.

  ‘Activate the device on my command,’ ordered Ekodas.

  ‘I know the plan, Apostle,’ snapped Marduk. ‘What happened to the Mortisis Majesticatus?’

  ‘Transferral error,’ said Ekodas. ‘The Mortisis Majesticatus made realisation into a minefield. Sarabdal’s death has not unnerved you, has it, Marduk?’

  Ekodas’s eyes were mocking, and Marduk seethed inside. Ekodas was barely making an effort to conceal the fact that he had been responsible for the death of Sarabdal.

  ‘Not at all, Grand Apostle,’ said Marduk. ‘One must always be vigilant for attack. From any quarter.’

  ‘Indeed,’ said Ekodas. ‘Sarabdal was a fool. He did not even realise the danger he found himself in until too late. I would hope that one such as yourself would not make such a mistake.’

  ‘As would I,’ said Marduk. He could feel the leech-like tendrils of Ekodas’s mind worming their way into his thoughts, probing his defences.

  ‘The enemy fleet advances, confident of their reinforcements,’ said Ekodas. ‘I want the device activated the moment we engage. Be ready for my word. I do not want any of them escaping.’

  Marduk could feel the defences of his mind slowly crumbling. In seconds, they would be bypassed. Marduk was certain that Sarabdal had been killed to silence him. Doubtless Ekodas was seeking to learn what, if anything, Marduk already knew.

  ‘I will await your order, my lord,’ he said and slammed his fist down upon a glowing blister upon his console. The transmission feed was instantly severed, and Ekodas’s glowering visage faded to black. The invasive tendrils of Ekodas’s mind instantly receded, and Marduk clutched at his console in order not to stagger as they scraped at the inside of his skull, clawing to maintain their hold.

  ‘My lord Apostle?’ said Ashkanez, stepping forward to aid him.

  Marduk shrugged off his First Acolyte’s attentions. His mind was whirling. What was it that Sarabdal had stumbled across?

  He snarled in frustration, knowing that whatever it was, it was now lost to him.

  The Chaos fleet contracted its width as it entered the asteroid belt, moving into the breach it had created with the force of its bombardment. Rock dust, spinning chunks of shattered asteroids and twisted metal hung in that gap, repelled by flickering void shields as the battleships of the dark crusade passed through the breach without slowing.

  The flanks of the twelve remaining Word Bearers battleships were guarded by a second wave of smaller cult ships that had been ushered forward as sacrificial lambs into the mine-riddled field. They were poorly maintained, and their overcharged and unshielded reactor cores burnt fiercely, slowly irradiating their crew in order to maintain the speed of the battleships they guarded. These ships were mostly ex-transports, mining ships or rogue trader vessels that had been claimed by the Legion over centuries of raids, their crews slaughtered. Now they served the crusade as its ablative armour.

  Occasionally, one of the sacrificial vessels that guarded the crusade’s flanks was destroyed in a blazing corona of light and fire as isolated mines that had yet to be detonated latched on to their hulls. Sporadic fire stabbed from deeper in the asteroid belt, off to either side of the gateway the Word Bearers had created. Blazing white lance strikes took their toll on the cult vessels, but in doing so exposed their own position and were dutifully targeted by the Word Bearers battleships, immense cannon arrays blasting them apart.

  The light of the system’s twin suns could be seen now that the way before the fleet was all but clear of obstruction, making the dust of the destroyed asteroids glow a rich orange. Shafts of light speared through gaps in the asteroid belt, the light glinting off the spires and castellated fortifications of the Word Bearers battleships as they ploughed through the thick dust clouds. The sight was breathtaking in its beauty. It looked as if the light of the gods was shining upon the crusade fleet. A good omen, thought Marduk.

  ‘The enemy is advancing at combat speed to engage,’ said Kol Badar. ‘Main cannons are running at full power, and boarding parties are ready.’

  ‘Transfer power to the forward shields,’ said Marduk.

  ‘Clear of the belt in ninety seconds,’ said Kol Badar. ‘We’ll have a better idea of the enemy positioning then.’

  ‘No indication of Imperial warp transfer as yet?’ said Inshabael Kharesh.

  Kol Badar glared at the sorcerer, then glanced at Marduk who nodded.

  ‘Nothing yet,’ said Kol Badar. ‘We’re advancing right into the mouth of one of the wormhole exit points though. If and when they do appear, they will have us completely surrounded.’

  ‘Encoded transmission inbound,’ croaked a servitor.

  Marduk tapped his console. A message appeared on screen.

 

  Marduk prayed that the magos would be ready.

  The enemy was emerging from the Trajan Belt and expanding its frontage to face the incoming Boros Defence Fleet, which looked pitifully small in comparison, despite the addition of the two White Consuls strike cruisers.

  Proconsul Ostorius felt frustrated as he watched the three-dimensional hololith that showed the two fleets closing with each other. His brother Space Marines were out there preparing to face the brunt of the enemy’s attack. Even now the company Chaplains would be conducting their blessings, readying the minds and spirits of the Chapter’s warriors for battle.

  Ostorius missed the rituals of pre-battle. He missed the surge of adrenaline as the moment of combat drew near. He should be standing with them.

  Focussing on the flashing icon that represented the cruiser that held 5th Company in its entirety, Ostorius clenched his fist. He was Company Champion of the 5th – his place was by his captain’s side. No, he corrected. He was Company Champion no longer; that duty was now that of another. He was Proconsul of Boros Prime. This was his place now.

  Still, he felt a sense of guilt that he was not standing alongside his brothers, regardless of the fact that he had never enjoyed fleet engagements. He disliked them for the same reason that he always felt a vague unease being carried into the thick of battle within the Rhinos, Land Raiders, Thunderhawks and drop-pods of the Chapter. He understood this unease. In the mayhem of the battlefield, amidst the roar of chainswords, the screams of the dying and the rumble of weapon fire he was master of his survival, but in a fleet engagement, or while being ferried into battle, he was at the mercy of dangers beyond his control.

  He could sense Aquilius’s excitement as the fleets closed with each other. He could understand his Coadjutor’s emotions, for the enemy should be annihilated in the forthcoming battle. The trap was set. As soon as the enemy were e
ngaged, the full force of the Adeptus Praeses would descend on them like a hammer.

  ‘How long, do you think?’ said Aquilius.

  All contact with the incoming ships of the Adeptus Praeses, Battlefleet Gorgon and the battle-barge of the Grey Knights had been cut, so as to give the enemy as little forewarning as possible. Most of the reinforcements were ready for transference, anchored just beyond the veil of reality. They merely waited the order to come through, and fall upon the enemy.

  Yet Ostorius could not help but feel a sliver of apprehension, as if there was something at play here that he, that all the members of the caucus, had missed. He prayed to the Emperor that he was wrong, but he could not shake the pervading sense of doom that was descending upon him.

  ‘Not long,’ said Ostorius.

  Alone, the hulking monstrosity that held the Titans of Legio Vulturus hung back within the protection of the asteroid field, guarded by a flotilla of smaller vessels as the bulk of the Word Bearers fleet advanced to meet the incoming Imperial fleet head on.

  The Maledictus Confutatis was at the centre of the formation, with the other eleven battleships of the XVII Legion forming an arc to either side of it, reaching out to envelop the smaller defence fleet.

  Hurtling towards the foe out in front were the last remnants of the cult ships, their reactors reaching dangerously critical levels as they expended the last of their energy reserves to close the distance. Not much was expected of them, but the enemy could not ignore them. Even unarmed they posed a threat; a ship could suffer serious damage if it were rammed by one of the slave vessels.

  The Imperial fleet swung towards one of the advancing wings of the XVII Legion battleships so as not to advance into the centre of their formation, and the first shots of the engagement were fired. Massive torpedoes were launched from cavernous tubes sunk into the armoured prow of the Imperial vessels, the missiles speeding through the emptiness of space towards the Crucius Maledictus. The Chaos battleships responded in kind, launching torpedoes of their own as the right arm of its force swung around in a wide arc to engulf the enemy.

  Hundreds of thousands of kilometres separated the fleets, yet prow-mounted laser batteries opened up, stabbing lances that shredded dozens of cult vessels. Several more exploded in blinding detonations as they advanced into the paths of incoming torpedoes.

  The barrage of fire intensified as the Imperial fleet split into two and unleashed the power of its broadsides upon the slave vessels caught stranded between them. Within minutes of ferocious firing, immense cannon batteries laying down an impenetrable blanket of fire, the cult ships were gone.

  Swivelling defence cannons mounted upon the battleships of both fleets swung around and began to rain fire upon incoming torpedoes. Fleets of fighters were exhaled from gaping launch bays like angry insects rising to protect their hive.

  The fleets banked and turned, altering their trajectory as they reacted to the torpedoes and the movement of the enemy. Within minutes the symmetrical lines of the fleets were disrupted as the battleship commanders manoeuvred their ships into the best attack position.

  Dozens of torpedoes were scythed down by the weight of fire from the Crucius Maledictus and the other Word Bearers ships. Others flew wide, exploding upon the walls of the Trajan Belt behind the Chaos fleet. A handful found their mark, exploding upon the monstrous battleship’s forward shields.

  The Imperial fleet came back together and swung around to form two fronts, turning their flanks into the face of the advancing Chaos fleet. The ships of XVII Legion ploughed on into the broadsides of their foes, and the battle began in earnest.

  The Imperial fleet consisted of a single Retribution-class battleship, the Dawn Eternal, four Lunar-class cruisers and a host of escorts, and was bolstered by the two strike cruisers of the White Consuls. The enemy still heavily outgunned them. Regardless, it unleashed its fury into the face of the Chaos fleet, stripping void shields and crippling one battleship, the Dominus Violatus of Ekodas’s Host.

  Flights of Starhawk bombers hurtled from the yawning launch bays of the Imperial fleet, accompanied by Fury interceptors. The boxy shapes of Thunderhawks and larger, heavier armed Stormbirds spat forth from the Chaos ships to meet them.

  A furious exchange erupted as the fighters and interceptors engaged. Thousands of las-beams stabbed through the mayhem of battle like needles of light, and bank upon bank of cannon unleashed their salvos, their firepower growing ever more destructive as the fleets closed.

  The two strike cruisers of the White Consuls veered off from the Imperial line to target the Dies Mortis, Dark Apostle Belagosa’s ship. They started stripping its void shields with concentrated bombardments. The powerful Chaos vessel began turning on its axis, attempting to bring them under its broadsides.

  The nova cannon of the Crucius Maledictus roared like an angry god, and a massive blaze of light comparable to the output of a small sun surrounded its barrel as it fired. The beam of blinding light tore through the Imperial line, engulfing two cruisers and an escort, ripping them apart with seeming disdain.

  ‘Confirmed kill on the starboard wing,’ droned a servitor.

  ‘Shields holding at eighty per cent stability,’ said another.

  A horrific wailing sounded within the bridge of the Infidus Diabolus.

  ‘The enemy fleet is making transference,’ growled Kol Badar.

  ‘Lorgar’s blood,’ said Burias, looking over Kol Badar’s shoulder. ‘There are thirty-two vessels zoning in!’

  An evil grin split Marduk’s face. They had the Imperials by the throat. By the time they realised their reinforcements were not going to make the jump from warp space, they would have no chance of extracting themselves from the engagement. The slaughter would be glorious.

  ‘Patch me a link through to the magos,’ said Marduk.

  ‘Link established,’ gargled a servitor.

  ‘Be ready, magos,’ said Marduk.

  ‘Darioq-Grendh’al is unable to comply,’ came the reply.

  ‘What!’

  ‘Regretfully that action cannot currently be performed,’ returned the corrupted magos’s voice.

  ‘Enemy fleet realisation in progress,’ drawled a servitor on the bridge of the Infidus Diabolus.

  Marduk swung around and slammed his fist into the servitor’s face. Its skull collapsed like a moist shell, the Dark Apostle’s fist pulping the rotting brain within.

  ‘That was helpful,’ commented Kharesh. Marduk glared at him.

  ‘Darioq-Grendh’al,’ said Marduk. ‘Activate the device, now!’

  ‘Re-calibration is required of the support brace X5.dfg4.234g enshrining the device designated “Nexus Arrangement” – recovered from xenos pyramidal structure classified c6.7.32.N98.t3, upon planet c6.7.32 “Tanakreg”, suspect of mech-organism species NCT.p023423.2234.x, “Necron-tyr”, origin incomplete – due to binaric system atmospheric inload frequency disparity–’

  Now! came Ekodas’s order.

  Marduk took a deep breath

  ‘Darioq-Grendh’al,’ he snarled, exerting his power over the possessed magos. ‘Activate the device now, or we are all dead.’

  ‘Summary: Darioq-Grendh’al regrets to inform Marduk, Dark Apostle of the 34th Host of the Word Bearers Astartes Legion, genetic descendant of the glorified Primarch Lorgar that the xenos artifice device designated “Nexus Arrangement” will take longer to activate than previous estimation.’

  ‘We do not have time to fire up the warp engines for transference,’ hissed Kol Badar. ‘We are committed to this engagement.’

  ‘How long, Darioq-Grendh’al?’ growled Marduk.

  ‘Re-calculated estimate: the device will be active in 1.234937276091780 minutes. Clarification: this is an estimated supposition only, and has a variance of 0.00000234 seconds.’

  ‘Too long,’ said Kol Badar, shaking his head. ‘The Imperial fleet could be ten times its size by then. We should never have put our trust in the cursed magos or that damned xenos device. This crusade is
going to end in disaster.’

  ‘No,’ said Marduk forcefully. ‘I have come too far.’

  The Word Bearers within the bridge of the Infidus Diabolus waited in tense silence.

  ‘Incoming transmission,’ warned Kol Badar. ‘It’s Ekodas.’

  ‘Block it,’ said Marduk, foetid ichor dripping from his knuckles. ‘Darioq-Grendh’al – get that damned thing operational, now!’

  ‘Regretfully that action cannot currently be performed, Marduk, Dark Apostle of the 34th Host of the Word Bearers Astartes Legion, genetic descendant of the glorified Primarch Lorgar,’ returned the corrupted magos’s voice. ‘There is a type XP3.251.te5 code error that requires calibration adjustment of the–’

  ‘It will not end like this!’ said Marduk. ‘Magos, I am sending Burias down to you. If the device is not active by the time he gets there, he will tear you limb from limb. Get it working. Now!’

  He swung towards Burias.

  ‘Go,’ he said.

  The change came over the Icon Bearer in an instant, his features blurring with those of the daemon Drak’shal.

  ‘Launching attack craft,’ said Kol Badar as a wave of enemy Starhawks rose to greet to Infidus Diabolus. ‘Defensive turrets engaging.’

  Another incoming transmission from the Crucius Maledictus was rebuffed.

  ‘How close are the enemy from making realisation?’ said Marduk.

  ‘Close,’ replied Kol Badar, his eyes filled with accusation. You have brought us to this precipice, they said.

  ‘The gods of Chaos shall deliver us,’ said Ashkanez. Alone on the bridge, he seemed unaffected by the tension, as if resigned to whatever fate the gods decreed.

  A pair of Imperial Cobra frigates were torn apart by concentrated broadsides, and the Infidus Diabolus shook as impacts from incoming Starhawks struck home.

  ‘It shall not end like this,’ snarled Marduk. ‘This is not my fate.’

  ‘Enemy fleet realisation commencing,’ said Kol Badar.