Warhammer 40K - Farseer

by William King

  'And perhaps not,' said Kham Bell. He did not sound hopeful. 'Is the ship an enemy?'

  'It is a Chaos vessel and apparently belongs to the fleet that attacked our convoy at Conovar. At least it carries the same symbols as the survivors reported.'

  'There were few enough lived through that attack,' said the sergeant. 'I do not like this at all, captain.'

  'Nor I, Kham, nor I.' Janus had begun to see a pattern in these things. He did not think it was coincidence that a ship of the fleet that helped reduce him to near penury was in position overhead. There was a connection here, if he could just find it.

  'What's the plan, captain?' asked Harker. The man obviously needed reassurance badly. Janus was sorry not to be in a position to give it to him. All he could do was make the best of a bad situation.

  'We will proceed as before. Once we've got what we came for, Simon Belisarius will come back and take us off. With the other shuttles if need be.'

  'What if he can't come back? What if the enemy ship destroys the Star of Venam?'

  'It won't,' said Janus, wishing he was as confident as he sounded.

  Simon studied the tactical screens carefully. It looked like the Chaos commander was playing this one cautiously. The ship had not pursued. Instead it was going into a holding orbit directly over the southern city where Janus Darke had set down. It had not taken them long to find the energy pulse of the shuttle. It was almost as if they had known where to look.

  Simon was uncertain what to do now. He had thought the Star would have made a much more tempting target than any landing party.

  After all, without the starship, no one would be leaving this system anyway. It seemed the Chaos commander did not think like he did, though. Or perhaps there was something else at work here.

  Perhaps there was something on the planet that they did not want us to find. Or perhaps they were looking for something specific, like the eldar. Simon knew enough about eldar culture to know that capturing a farseer would make a fantastic prize for someone.

  More than that, he was disturbed by the fact that the ship belonged to the same fleet as attacked the Valediction off Conovar. The symbols on its side, and the configuration of the hull, were exactly the same as the men rescued from the escape pods had described. What was it doing here?

  The Eye of Terror was a massive base for Chaos raiders, but getting in and out was problematic to say the least. What were the chances that the same raider would show up in both places? Very low, Simon thought. Those raiders had shown uncanny knowledge of their ships' cargoes and routes. They had always suspected there was a traitor in Darke's company feeding them information. This appeared to confirm it. Who else had known they were coming here?

  Impossible, he thought. No one except Janus, the eldar and myself knew our destination until we got here and none of us are likely to be traitors. The crew did not even know where we were till a few hours ago. It was impossible for them to have got a message out, not unless there was a rogue psyker aboard.

  Could the enemy ship have ridden our probability wake without me noticing? That was possible, but then why wait until we got here to attack unless they wanted us here for some reason of their own? Not a particularly reassuring thought under the circumstances.

  Simon was too much in the dark, he needed to come up with a new plan. He was not going to be able to draw the enemy ship out of position. Armoured landing shuttles were already dropping from the raider to the planet's surface and their course would put them pretty much exactly at Janus's location.

  The ship was going to have to be destroyed. He did not relish the prospect of a head-on attack but could not see any other way around it. It would be pointless trying to rendezvous with Janus's shuttle otherwise. The enemy ship would reduce it to so much slag as it made the sub-orbital boost, and that was not taking into account any damage the Chaos raider might do to the Star of Venam as it approached. Almost any plan he could think of had too many risks.

  He sat back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the control panel. 'Gentlemen,' he said, 'prepare for battle.'

  TWENTY

  THE WAY IS OPEN

  'Ah, the worlds of the eldar,' said Zarghan loudly, as he strode the courtyard of the Temple-Palace of Asuryan. Behind him scores of mutants, tattooed cultists and monstrous abhumans poured out onto the crystal streets of the eldar city. 'Nothing quite like them for filling you with the urge to destroy something. Makes you feel quite Khornate sometimes.'

  His troops laughed loudly at his little joke. The followers of Slaanesh prided themselves on being as little like the devotees of the Lord of Blood and Skulls as it was possible to be and still remain Chaos worshippers, but they knew when to humour their leader.

  Zarghan was not joking, however. There was something about this place that really did fill him with the urge to demolish things. He would have liked nothing better than to order a strike from the Pride of Sin on this accursed city, and he decided that as soon as the prize was taken that was exactly what he would do. He did not ask himself the reason for this extraordinary hatred; he just knew it was so.

  Smashing this place to fragments, reducing it to rubble, would give him great pleasure, and that was all a follower of Slaanesh needed to know.

  Apparently some of his troops felt the same way. Some of them were already testing their weapons on the statuary or blasting away at the large luminescent moths that floated against the still star-lit sky. Only a dozen or so of the hundred warriors were wasting ammunition though and he did not feel the need to make an example of any of them.

  Let them have their fun, Zarghan thought; he had other things to do. It was time to locate their prey and he knew just the way to do it.

  'Things do not look good,' said Janus Darke. Kham Bell nodded his head in agreement. As soon as they had received Simon's message they had rushed to join the sentry they had set on this vantage point. From the high oval window of one of the towers above the courtyard, they had watched the shuttles arrive. They were evil-looking craft, encrusted with obscene gargoyles, forged from black steel and brass, bearing the runes of Chaos.

  With mounting unease they had watched dozens of enemy troops disembark. These were the worst dregs of humanity mixed with abhumans, mutants and other things, but they looked fierce and well armed. Even as Janus watched through his night-vision magnoculars, one of them pissed on the banner he had planted earlier.

  'What do you reckon?' asked the sergeant.

  'I don't think we'll take them head-on,' said Janus in an attempt at humour. Both men knew how desperate things were. Both understood the implications of Simon Belisarius's tight beam message telling them he was being forced out of orbit. They knew they were trapped on the surface and desperately outnumbered.

  'It's good to know that you haven't lost your keen appreciation of tactical realities,' said Kham Bell sourly. 'Think the aliens will be any help?'

  Janus considered Auric's psychic powers and Athenys's deadly combat skills. He had no idea of the full extent of the farseer's abilities, but they must be considerable. They would certainly help, but he doubted that they could sway a battle against such overwhelming numbers. All it would take would be one stray bolter shell and the eldar would be dead, the same as any normal warrior. Athenys and Stiel might be put to good use though. There were certainly enough places for ambushes within the temple complex. A pity they had not brought more explosives and anti-personnel mines, he thought.

  'They might be, but I would not count on it,' said Janus. There are just too many Chaos worshippers out there and unless I am mistaken, they are being led by a Chaos Marine from one of the Lost Chapters.'

  Janus focused the magnoculars on the mighty figure leading the degenerates. He was certainly impressive. His armour was luridly coloured in bizarre patterns of purple, crimson and lime and as baroquely ornate as the shuttles that had brought him. One of his hands was a cyborg attachment of gleaming silvery metal. He held a chainsword of ancient design in one hand and a bolter in the
other.

  'He's one of the Emperor's Children, judging by that disgusting armour,' said Stiel, his quiet voice carrying across the empty chamber. Janus did not ask him how he knew. The assassin's mastery of a vast collection of esoteric lore had long ago ceased to surprise him. 'Let's hope there are no more of them. One will be bad enough.'

  Janus scanned the darkness. 'Doesn't seem to be. Maybe a renegade of some sort.'

  'They are all renegades here,' said Stiel. 'This is the Eye of Terror.'

  'I am glad you told us,' sneered the sergeant. 'I would never have known otherwise.'

  'What's the plan, captain?' asked Stiel.

  'We find what we came for. We get out.'

  'You make it all sound so simple,' said Bell sarcastically.

  'All the best plans are,' said Janus, wondering why his head was starting to hurt. His sense of the darkness within himself increased. Never mind, he thought, it would be dawn soon. Even that thought did not lift his spirits.

  'We've faced worse odds,' he said to the sergeant. 'Remember Crowe's World.'

  Of course, there was no relief force coming from the Imperium to save them this time.

  'So the followers of the Great Enemy have arrived,' said Auric. It wasn't a question. Janus nodded and squatted beside the two eldar. They sat cross-legged beside each other, looking perfectly relaxed and at ease. Janus wished he could duplicate their manner but it was impossible. He found the ancient crystalline structure deeply disturbing. There was something about it he just did not like.

  'They've come in force,' said Janus. 'Far more than we can handle in a fight.'

  'Then we will just have to avoid a confrontation until we are ready,' said Auric.

  'That might prove easier said than done. There are a lot of them.'

  'This is a large place,' said Athenys. 'And the temple-palace is a labyrinth.'

  'How long do you think it will take to get what you came for?'

  'It is located deep within this building. I must open the vault and activate the ancient power source,' said Auric. 'Then we shall see.'

  'That might be a bit of a giveaway that we are here,' said Janus.

  'There is no avoiding it, Janus Darke. We must go in.'

  'Then what?'

  'Then we will kill those who would desecrate this place,' said Auric.

  'I wished I shared your confidence,' said Janus.

  The corridor lit itself ahead of them. It was eerie, Janus thought, almost as if the building was alive and knew they were here and sensed their needs. Behind them as they marched the glow dimmed. Auric strode ahead, leading the way, pausing every now and again when they came to a junction, touching the runestones in his pouch as if communing with them over the correct direction.

  'Malarys, step forward!' Zarghan commanded, staring around the entrance to the temple-palace. The old psyker did so. He had obviously been at the wine again. The Chaos Marine could smell it on his breath.

  'As you desire, sire.'

  'Find them for me. Find our prey!' Zarghan was gratified when the psyker did not ask how. It should be easy enough, after all. Aside from his own warriors, the ones they sought must be the only sentient beings on this continent.

  Malarys closed his eyes and prepared to share his flesh with the daemon. He did not look too pleased, which was understandable since doing so would age him a year in a day, but he was not foolish enough to offer any protest to his master.

  He began to chant, swaying from side to side, in a manner that reminded Zarghan of a serpent. His motions took on an odd sinuous quality and fire began to burn within his eye sockets. The glow was visible through the flesh of his eyelids. His body seemed to expand as the daemon filled him, but as it did so Zarghan sensed that something was wrong. The old man began to scream.

  His flesh took on a ruddy tone. Lines of light played over his body, as the energy that filled him raced through his veins and lit his skin like a web of fire. An odd musky scent filled the air, at once repellent and alluring. Zarghan heard the old man's bones crack as he grew taller and watched the flesh stretch and reconfigure itself into a new and more beautiful shape. The aura of power that cloaked him was palpable. When he spoke the creature's voice was lovely, thrilling, ultimately commanding, filled with ancient evil and barely concealed malice.

  'Abase yourself, Zarghan Ironfist, you stand before Shaha Gaathon, Prince of Chaos,' he said.

  Such was the daemonhost's aura that, despite himself, Zarghan dropped to one knee, barely believing that he stood in the presence of one of the mightiest of the Lord of Pleasure's daemons. All around his men hurled themselves to the ground in a frenzy of adoration.

  'I have come to lead this hunt myself,' said the daemon prince. 'Let us proceed.'

  'As you desire,' said Zarghan, regaining his self-control.

  The thing that had been Malarys sniffed the air and stretched his arms wide. 'It is good to breathe this air once more,' he said.

  'Soon we will arrive at the-' said Auric. Suddenly the farseer's words were cut off. He clutched at his head with his left hand. Janus looked up from where he lay propped against the wall. All around him his men sprawled, taking their rest for the fifteen minutes he had allotted them.

  'What is it?' Janus asked. He glanced uneasily about. He was far too aware of the awful weight of the city that lay above them, and how deep below it they were. This tunnel seemed to go on forever.

  'He has come,' said Auric. 'Far sooner than I expected. I did not foresee this at all. Gather your men, Janus Darke. We must leave this spot at once. Time is running out.'

  'Who has come? What is wrong? Talk to me!'

  'Shaha Gaathon is here. He has found a host and taken flesh. It would appear that he is keener than I ever imagined to take possession of your flesh, Janus Darke. Either that or he had some inkling as to why we are here.'

  Fear filled Janus. He had no desire to confront the daemon prince now or ever. He leapt to his feet and began shouting orders for the men to gather their gear. There was a lot of grumbling, for the soldiers were tired, and looking forward to rest and some food. Janus cursed them into action. He knew somehow that their enemy would be closing fast. For one thing, they did not have to wait to have all of those huge warded gates opened. Auric had already done that for them.

  'Move, damn you! Or I'll make you wish your sorry mothers never bore you!'

  He already wished his mother had never borne him.

  The chamber was huge. Bizarre engines lined the walls. At least Auric had assured him they were engines but Janus was not so sure. They might have been statues or plants or some strange form of abstract art. They were towering shapes: sleek, smooth concave pillars. They looked as if they had been moulded from many-coloured glass and twisted in ways that caught the eye and tricked it. Trying to follow their lines for too long gave you a headache. They seemed to fold in on themselves and disappear. Janus could sense the power in them.

  'Unshielded spirit engines,' said Auric, in a voice that Janus now knew was not a voice, but within his head. It held a note of horror and awe that was quite chilling. 'They draw psychic power from the very fabric of the immaterium, and yet they have no safeguards. For all their great knowledge, my ancestors were fools, playing with fire in a house made of wood and lacquered paper. And yet, how could they have known the dangers? By the time they understood them it was too late.'

  'Very good,' said Janus. 'But what does it mean?'

  'It means that in order to open the vaults, we must activate these engines, and that will be very dangerous. It will be like lighting a beacon for the one who follows us. It will know where we are and what we do.'

  'Excellent, that is all we need,' said Janus. 'Could it get any worse?'

  'Indeed it could, Janus Darke. It will get much worse before we are done.'

  'Can't you recognise a rhetorical question when you hear one?'

  'Hush, human. I must work the rituals that will revive the engines. They must be recalled to life.'

  'Be
my guest,' said Janus.

  The eldar did not need to be told twice. He strode between the massive, intricate columns and confronted the huge rune-encrusted door of the vault before them. He spread his arms wide and began to chant. As the eldar did so, the hairs on Janus's head began to lift. His men fell back towards the exit. Janus could feel their fear even through the shielding of the dreamstone. It was not a good sign.

  A ball of fire appeared between the farseer's outstretched fingers. It hovered there for a moment and then began to spin. As it did so, tentacles of lightning flickered out to strike the pillars. The smell of ozone filled the air. Janus could see a number of runestones orbiting the farseer now. They glowed with their own internal light. He looked away, not wanting to be sucked into contact with Auric again, and yet feeling their irresistible tug.

  The monstrous pillars on either side sprang to life. Fire burned within them, dim at first, but growing in intensity with every passing heartbeat. Janus saw a look of wonder appear on Athenys's face. Despite himself, he felt the triumph that filled Auric over the link that they shared. The farseer's cloak writhed around him now as if shifted by a strong breeze, although there was no wind. The runestones swung in ever wider orbits around him, leaving trails of fire that burned into Janus's field of vision.

  It was like witnessing the waking of a sleeping giant. A sense of awful potency grew around them. He knew that energies lurked within those pillars that were capable of levelling this city or sinking the continent. The great doorway dilated. A smell of death filled the chamber, as air that had been held within for ten thousand years was released.