Ashkanez stalked back and forth as he addressed the gathered supplicants, his hands balled into fists at his sides.
‘The Second Purge came a century later, after our blessed lord, the Urizen, had been reunited with his Legion; after our glorified primarch’s eyes were opened to the lies of the golden-tongued so-called Emperor of Mankind,’ said Ashkanez. He spat in loathing, as if expelling a foul taste from his mouth, before continuing.
‘With realisation came the understanding that the old beliefs of Colchis were the only truth in the universe; that the old gods were the only powers worthy of our faith and worship. There were those amongst our blessed Legion that would not have understood these things, brainwashed and conditioned as they had been in their formative years. Our lord Lorgar once more reformed the Brotherhood, again with great mourning and remorse. Thus were the Legion’s ranks cleansed and unified. In one week, thus were all warrior brothers of Terran birth eradicated, leaving only those of Colchis blood behind.’
Ashkanez licked his lips and glared around at his audience, his eyes blazing with passion.
‘Great was the Urizen’s lamentation, for those warriors slain were his sons, his flesh and blood, children of his own gene-code. And yet, through no fault of their own and as a direct result of being raised in isolation from him, they had to be removed. Their will had been utterly corrupted by the lies of the False Emperor. Their souls had been closed off to the great truth.’
Burias leant forward, absorbing every word. For millennia, such knowledge had been denied him, denied all those who had not themselves taken part in the great cleansing. He himself had been born and raised in the monastery-prisons of Colchis but only indoctrinated into the Legion during the first great influx, once the old beliefs had been re-embraced wholeheartedly. He had only ever known of the Great Purge – of the second, he had only ever heard insinuations. Now that this knowledge was being freely given, he was soaking it all in like a sponge. Truly, he could not understand why the Council had forbidden it.
Even Marduk, his oldest comrade and faithful friend – who had, he had learnt, been an active part of the Brotherhood itself during the Second Purge – had kept these secrets from him, holding him back with ignorance.
‘Ignorance is control. Ignorance is slavery,’ Ashkanez had said to him when he had broached the subject with the First Acolyte, and Burias had long pondered the words.
‘We move towards a grim time in our Legion’s history, my brethren,’ said Ashkanez. ‘Once more, the Brotherhood has been reformed, at the will of Lorgar himself. The third purging of our ranks approaches, brothers, and it us, you and I, who have been chosen to enact it.’
Flanked by warriors of the Anointed, Marduk stood on one of the cavernous launch decks of the Infidus Diabolus, his arms folded across his chest.
An ancient Stormbird was crouched before him like an immense, predatory beast. Its assault ramps were lowered, and a score of warheads were being carefully emptied from its hold on tracked crawlers, under the supervision of Kol Badar. Just one of those warheads would have crippled the Infidus Diabolus. Dozens more had already been stowed away within the ship, delivered to them by a score of separate shuttle runs.
However, Marduk’s attention was elsewhere: his focus was on the Nexus Arrangement. The xenos device and its weighty housing unit had been loaded onto a similar tracked crawler unit, and it was slowly being led towards the now empty hold of the waiting shuttle. The hulking form of Darioq-Grendh’al moved ponderously alongside it, physically attached to the crawler unit by a swathe of cables and fleshy pipes.
‘I am not happy about this,’ said Marduk.
‘And your opinion has been noted,’ replied Kol Harekh, Ekodas’s Coryphaus. ‘Nevertheless, the Grand Apostle has decreed that the device will be taken aboard the Crucius Maledictus, for safekeeping.’
‘Safekeeping,’ sneered Marduk. ‘Ekodas wants the device for himself, so that he can claim its success as his own.’
‘Think what you will, Apostle,’ said Kol Harekh. ‘The device is being requisitioned. He is Grand Apostle, and has a seat on the Council. You have no authority to refuse him.’
‘It is mine,’ said Marduk. ‘My Host has bled for it. I have bled for it.’
‘The Grand Apostle thanks you for your loyal service. You do your Host proud. However, the device belongs to the Legion, not to you. And the Grand Apostle feels that it will be safer aboard the Crucius Maledictus. The death of the Black Legion envoy, Inshabael Kharesh, has made the Grand Apostle doubt your ability to keep the device secure.’
‘I did not know that Ekodas was already aware of the sorcerer’s death,’ said Marduk.
Kol Harekh smiled coldly.
‘I am merely here to supervise the safe passage of the device,’ he said. ‘Is there going to be a problem here, Apostle?’
Kol Harekh appeared unconcerned that he was standing upon the deck of Marduk’s own ship and heavily outnumbered. On Marduk’s word, Kol Harekh and his entourage would be butchered where they stood.
Marduk did not answer Ekodas’s Coryphaus. Kol Harekh shrugged his shoulders and broke eye contact, turning and ordering his warriors to ready the Stormbird’s engines.
Marduk watched in silence as the Nexus Arrangement was loaded aboard Kol Harekh’s Stormbird. Sitting atop the slowly moving crawler unit, the Nexus Arrangement continued to spin smoothly, its silver rings revolving in mesmerising arcs. The air vibrated with each turn, like the huffing of some immense infernal beast. Where they crossed they blurred together like quicksilver, only to reform themselves instantly on the other side. The green light exuded by the alien device was held in thrall by the harsh red light projected into it from the daemon-machine that the fallen magos had constructed, creating a malignant, diffuse glow.
The corrupted magos stepped onto the Stormbird’s ramp. It groaned under his weight.
‘Darioq-Grendh’al…’ said Marduk.
‘That is the last of the warheads,’ said Kol Harekh. ‘You have established the teleportation link?’
‘Of course,’ said Marduk.
‘Kol Badar’s plan is a good one. See that it is enacted successfully.’
Marduk glared at Ekodas’s Coryphaus.
‘You have what you came for,’ he said. ‘Now get off my ship.’
Coadjutor Gaius Aquilius of 5th Company looked back and forth between the gathered White Consuls, reading the tension upon their faces. While he knew rationally that, as Coadjutor of Boros Prime, it was only right for him to be involved in the discussions of its defence, he still felt out of his depth amongst the senior battle-brothers and captains, let alone in the presence of one of the Chapter Masters and a high-ranked Librarian.
The discussion was taking place high within a three-kilometre-tall spire that protruded above the Kronos star fort, orbiting Boros Prime. Floor-to-ceiling observation portals granted a panoramic view across the orbital bastion. From here it resembled an immense cathedral city, bristling with defences. More than twenty-five kilometres from side to side and octagonal in shape, it was the largest construction of its kind in the entire sector. Hundreds of shuttles and transports darted over its superstructure like tiny bees around their hive. Docking arms extended outwards around the orbital fortress, coupled to more than a score of battlecruisers and heavily armoured mass transports. For all the majesty of the view, none of the White Consuls paid it any mind, intent as they were upon the holograph. The tension in the room was palpable.
‘Relays confirm it,’ said Chapter Master Titus Valens. ‘It is the Sword of Truth. It is approaching at combat speed, bearing directly upon us.’
‘The Sword of Truth was lost. This is clearly a ploy,’ said Ostorius, his arms folded across his chest. ‘We should target it and bring it down as soon as it comes into range.’
‘It is one of our own,’ protested Aquilius, ‘One of the three battle-barges of our noble Chapter. We cannot destroy it out of hand.’
Ostorius threw him a glance.
‘You have much to learn, Coadjutor,’ he said. ‘The enemy are cunning. This is a trick.’
Aquilius bristled to be spoken to in such a manner in front of the senior Consuls.
‘We must be wary, but I will not authorise its destruction out of hand,’ said Chapter Master Titus Valens. ‘We have had no confirmation of its loss to the enemy, and it is one of ours. Marcus? Your view?’
‘I agree with Ostorius,’ said Marcus Decimus, Captain of 5th Company, stroking his grey beard thoughtfully. ‘We have to suspect this is a ploy. Our hubris has already lost us too many battle-brothers.’
‘Agreed,’ said Titus Valens. ‘We underestimated the foe. I do not intend to do so again. The Trajan Belt massacre shall forever tarnish my honour. And yet, we feared the Sword of Truth lost. Now, it appears before us. If there is a chance that there are battle-brothers aboard, I dare not destroy it out of hand.’
‘The last we saw, Brother-Captain Augustus was attempting to disengage by manoeuvring the Sword of Truth into the Trajan Belt,’ said Sulinus, Captain of 3rd Company. ‘As unlikely as it seems, there is a chance that he managed it.’
‘And successfully evaded destruction in the last month?’ said Captain Decimus. ‘Without making any contact with us in the intervening time? I cannot see that happening.’
‘Perhaps her communications were knocked out in the engagement,’ suggested Sulinus. ‘I know it is unlikely, but it is possible. Do we take that risk?’
‘It’s a fool’s hope, Sulinus,’ said Captain Decimus.
‘For all we know, Captain Augustus is still onboard and alive, along with Throne-knows how many battle-brothers. Can we in all faith destroy the ship if there is even the slimmest chance of that?’
‘Epistolary Liventius?’ said Chapter Master Valens, turning towards the blue-armoured Librarian stood alongside him. ‘Can you confirm that for us?’
Liventius nodded, and closed his eyes, touching the fingertips of one hand to his temple. Aquilius felt a disconcerting prickling sensation at the base of his neck, and he shivered involuntarily.
Aquilius held all Librarians in awe and reverence, for they were masters of powers the like of which he could barely conceive. Liventius’s face was heavily lined and drawn, as if all the moisture had been drained from his flesh. He leant upon a tall force-halberd, a weapon charged with a portion of his awesome psychic mastery. His hairless scalp was pierced with diodes and wires connecting him directly to his psychic hood.
Holding the rank of Epistolary, the highest attainable for an Astartes Librarian barring Chief Librarian, Liventius was held in high regard amongst the Chapter, both for his fearlessness and skills in battle and his potent psychic abilities. His wise council was greatly respected by battle-brother and Chapter Master alike.
The Librarian opened his eyes a moment later, and Aquilius felt the prickling sensation dissipate.
‘There are battle-brothers alive onboard,’ he confirmed.
‘Captain Augustus?’ said the Chapter Master.
‘I am not sure,’ said the Librarian. ‘Maybe. Something clouds my vision.’
‘More proof that this is nothing but a ploy of the enemy, surely,’ said Ostorius.
‘Perhaps,’ said Liventius, ‘but there are White Consuls alive onboard the Sword of Truth. Of that there can be no doubt.’
‘How many?’ asked Chapter Master Valens.
‘More than thirty,’ said Liventius.
‘Are they in control of the Sword of Truth, or are they imprisoned upon it? Has the enemy kept them alive merely to use them as living shields?’
‘I cannot say,’ said the Librarian.
Aquilius looked out of the towering observation window, but the Sword of Truth and the ships closing in behind her were still well beyond even his enhanced vision. In his mind’s eye he imagined the White Consuls battle-barge ploughing towards the Kronos star fort, explosions and coronas of light flashing upon her flank as the enemy targeted her. Even considering firing upon the noble vessel felt like sacrilege, let alone doing so if there were any White Consuls still alive on board.
‘Sword of Truth closing at eleven hundred kilometres,’ blurted a mechanised servitor hardwired into the operational panel of the Kronos deck.
Aquilius’s gaze took in the expanse of the Kronos star fort, bristling with laser batteries, cannons and torpedo tubes. Its architecture was studiously practical, yet still pleasing to the eye with its militaristic, classical aesthetic. Protected as it was with immense armour and copious layers of void shields, Kronos was virtually impenetrable, and with such potent defences, nothing short of an entire battlefleet would pose a threat.
The curve of Boros Prime could be seen out of the observation window, and its beauty briefly distracted Aquilius. Blue atmosphere gave way to the sprawling continents below, which the Kronos station watched over like a benign god, ready to unleash its fury upon any who wished the planet harm.
It was unfathomable to Aquilius that the enemy would dare attempt a frontal assault upon the planet or the star fort itself – Kronos would obliterate any such attempt, surely.
Aquilius’s gaze moved back towards the holo-screens. They showed the Sword of Truth being pursued by one massive battleship – the Crucius Maledictus – three strike cruiser-sized vessels and a handful of smaller craft. The enemy were harrying the valiant White Consuls battle-barge, and he saw flashes of colour that indicated the Word Bearers ships firing upon the Sword of Truth.
One of the smaller enemy ships disappeared from the screen.
‘Look!’ said Aquilius. ‘The Sword of Truth retaliates! One of the enemy ships has been brought down!’
‘Sacrificial,’ said Ostorius. ‘They seek to fool us.’
‘Even if that is the case, I do not believe that we can risk it,’ said Brother-Captain Sulinus.
‘White Consuls battle-barge is in range of orbital cannons,’ said one of the grey-uniformed Kronos personnel. ‘Do we take it down, sir?’
Chapter Master Titus Valens balled one of his hands into a fist in frustration.
‘Damn them,’ he said. ‘They know that we cannot gun down one of our own, not with battle-brothers still living on board.’
‘They know that, and use it to their advantage,’ said Ostorius. ‘They are banking on us having just this dilemma. If we shoot it down now, then we take back the advantage. It is what the enemy would do were they in our situation,’ said Ostorius.
‘And that is what sets us apart from them,’ said Epistolary Liventius severely.
‘I do not believe that Augustus would want us to compromise Kronos for his wellbeing, nor those of any of his brothers,’ said Decimus.
The Chapter Master sighed, the weight of responsibility falling to him. While Ostorius was the Proconsul of the Boros Gate system, in the presence of his captain and one of the White Consuls Chapter Masters, his authority naturally deferred to them.
‘Let it get closer,’ said Chapter Master Valens after a moment, ‘Lock gun batteries on the ship. One false move, and we destroy it. But I will not order its destruction until we know, not with battle-brothers on board.’
‘The closer the Sword of Truth gets, the more damage it could potentially achieve,’ said Ostorius.
‘Our shields can absorb anything that she could unleash,’ said Sulinus.
‘What damage could the Sword of Truth do to this installation if it rammed it?’ said Decimus. ‘That would bypass our shields, wouldn’t it?’
‘The damage would be negligible,’ said one of the Kronos officers.
‘Scan the Sword of Truth for evidence of atomic warheads,’ said Chapter Master Valens.
‘The scan reads negative,’ said the officer a moment later.
‘Are you sure?’ said Ostorius.
‘One hundred per cent accuracy, sir,’ said the officer.
‘Thank you,’ said Ostorius. ‘At least that is something.’
‘Send a flight wing out to meet the Sword of Truth,’ said Titus Valens. ‘Or
der them to cripple her engines if she does not slow her advance.’
‘Incoming transmission,’ announced another of the Kronos personnel.
‘Bring it up,’ said Ostorius.
The screen crackled with static before the bloody face of Captain Augustus of 2nd Company flashed up. The linkup was rough with interference, but it was irrefutably the captain.
‘…under heavy fire… immediate assistance…’ came the accompanying vox-stream, as patchy and unclear as the visual feed. ‘…immediate assistance, repeat… half company still live… transmissions failure…’
‘Well, that settles it, then,’ said Sulinus as the link dropped.
‘With respect, brother-captain, I think you are mistaken,’ said Ostorius.
Aquilius could scarce believe that Ostorius was so bold as to speak in such a way to a captain. Ostorius was an honoured veteran, true, but he was far down the line of command from a company captain.
‘That was Captain Augustus, Proconsul,’ said Sulinus hotly. ‘We were inducted into the Chapter from the same sub-hive. I’ve known him since childhood. I’d recognise him anywhere.’
‘The Sword of Truth is within firing range,’ came a warning report.
‘Continue to hold, but keep scanning her for any evidence of weapons powering up,’ said Chapter Master Titus Valens. ‘I will not fire upon our own until it is beyond doubt that this is an enemy trick.’
‘The Word Bearers continue to fire upon the Sword of Truth, but their ships are holding back,’ Sulinus noted, nodding at the vid-screens. ‘They are wary of our weapon systems, as they should be.’
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