“What in the name of the Urizen?” snarled Marduk from his command pulpit on the bridge as a chunk of twisted metal the size of a hab-block glanced off the prow of the ship with an unnerving squeal of the forward shields. “Report.”
“Systems coming online,” drawled a servitor hardwired into the control hub of the ship. It was little more than the armless torso of a skeleton, with a thick bundle of pulsating tubes, wires and cables protruding from its ruptured skull, connecting its exposed brain to the cogitation units in front of it. It drooled yellow syrup as its blackened lips moved. “Scanning in progress… scan complete at 10.342… 13.94…. 18.2343…”
“Plasma core at 85% and rising,” barked another servitor unit, a thrashing creature that jerked back and forth, pulling at the leaking plugs that connected its limbless torso to the humming banks of sensor arrays to either side of it.
“Internal comms established, external pulse ignition in five,” intoned another in a mechanised voice.
“Port battery cognition online.”
“Establishing fleet contact.”
Screens of data-flow filled with scrolling diagnostic reports and internal mechadialogue as the systems of the Infidus Diabolus slowly came online. A ship was always at its most vulnerable before its navigational and comms arrays were up and running.
Scanning the bewildering array of codeform and binaric data inloading across dozens of screens, Kol Badar frowned.
“Well?” said Marduk.
“I’m reading heat signatures and plasma bleed. Something is wrong,” growled Kol Badar.
“Is it us?” said Burias.
“No,” said Kol Badar. “Our readings are fine.”
“Where did all this come from?” said Marduk in rising concern as the grating squeal of the shields continued. “We were meant to realise two hundred thousand kilometres from the asteroid belt.”
“We did,” said Kol Badar, scanning the inloading data being transferred onto the console in front of him. “This is something else.”
“Where is the Mortisis Majesticatus?” said First Acolyte Ashkanez, accessing the in-flood of data via a nerve-spike inserted into a plug in his left vambrace.
Marduk looked out through the viewing portal that dominated the bridge. The Infidus Diabolus was positioned towards the rear of the fleet, and he could see the shapes of the other Word Bearers ships beyond, flickering immaterium residue still clutching at their hulls. They had come through in battle formation, wary of potential attack, with the crude proselyte slave ships on the outside, and the hulking monstrosity that held the Legio Vulturus protectively in the centre.
Ekodas’ immense Infernus-class battleship, the Crucius Maledictus, was located to the fore, but of the Dark Apostle Sarabdal’s strike cruiser, the Mortisis Majesticatus, he could see nothing.
Kol Badar’s brow furrowed, and he studied the data floods, eyes scanning quickly.
“Well?” snapped Marduk. “Where is it?”
“It’s not here,” said Kol Badar.
“It didn’t make realisation?”
Kol Badar shook his head.
“It came through before us. It should be here.”
“Could it have veered off course?” said Burias. “Made realisation elsewhere?”
“Not possible,” said Marduk. “Well, my Coryphaus? Where in the name of the nine hells of Sicarus is Sarabdal and the 18th Host?”
“The Moribundus Fatalis is here,” said Kol Badar, stabbing a finger against a data-slate showing the positioning of the fleet. “So half of Sarabdal’s Host is with us. Wait…”
Kol Badar traced the flow of information with one ceramite-encased finger, before turning to face Marduk. His face was grim.
“Spit it out,” snapped Marduk.
“The Mortisis Majesticatus is all around us,” said Kol Badar finally.
“What?” said Burias.
Marduk leant backwards and licked his lips as more wreckage was repelled by the shields of the Infidus Diabolus.
His mind reeled. He had not thought that even Ekodas would go that far, at least not so blatantly. He realised how much he was relying on his alliance with Sarabdal. Without him, he felt exposed and vulnerable. Worse, whatever secret that Sarabdal had uncovered regarding Ekodas’ plot had died with him.
“The murderous bastard,” he hissed.
“Surely you do not suspect one of our own being responsible, my Apostle?” said Ashkanez.
Marduk glanced over at his First Acolyte, but did not say anything.
“I’m reading heat discharge from the cannons and torpedo tubes of the Crucius Maledictus and the Anarchus,” said Kol Badar.
“Ekodas and his wretched toad, Ankh-Heloth,” murmured Marduk.
“No, First Acolyte,” he said, his voice thick with derision. “I would never dream of suspecting one of my brothers.”
“The Mortisis Majesticatus had been destroyed?” said Burias.
“Very good, my Icon Bearer,” said Marduk. “As you can see, Ashkanez, I keep Burias around for his cutting, fierce intellect. Nothing gets by him.”
Burias scowled, and Marduk felt the daemon within the Icon Bearer straining to be released.
“Is there such disunity within the XVII Legion that brother fires upon brother?” said a deeply resonant voice, and all hostility within the room was suddenly directed towards this newcomer. First Acolyte Ashkanez flexed his fingers, and Marduk knew that he longed to reach for his weapon; he felt much the same way.
Kol Badar, ignoring the sorcerer, continued to survey the incoming data.
“There is an Imperial fleet moving towards our position from co-ordinates X3.75 by 9 from the inside the asteroid belt. Advancing at engagement speed.”
“Warmaster Abaddon would be disturbed to learn that his favoured brother Legion was fractured,” continued the new arrival, the Black Legion Sorcerer Inshabael Kharesh.
“If there was any disunity within the XVII Legion,” said Marduk coldly, “then it would be the business of the XVII Legion, and no one else, sorcerer.”
Kharesh merely smiled in reply, a thin-lipped grimace exposing his bloodstained teeth.
“Incoming transmission,” said Kol Badar. “From the Crucius Maledictus.”
“Bring it up,” said Marduk.
The crackling image of Ekodas filled the view-screen. The comm-link was dropping in and out, perhaps as a result of the shrapnel interference surrounding the Infidus Diabolus.
“…brothers… regret to inform you of the tragic loss… Mortisis Majesticatus… suffered catastrophic… destruction at the hands… enemy… mine-field… tricks, dishonourable and ignoble. Sarabdal and all hands… joined with Chaos almighty.”
“A minefield, of course,” said Marduk mockingly. He saw Ashkanez’s frown deepen.
“…advocate that the remainder of…” continued Ekodas’ broken transmission. “…Host be transferred under… Belagosa’s wing, becoming… brothers of the 18th.”
“He’s disbanded the 18th,” said Kol Badar. “He’s amalgamating them into Belagosa’s Host.”
“A bribe?” said Burias.
Marduk did not answer. His mind was whirling. Ekodas must have learnt that Sarabdal was close to uncovering his plotting, and taken measures to silence him. The Brotherhood, Sarabdal had said. Marduk had believed that the Dark Apostle had been misled somehow, for the Brotherhood had not been in existence since the cleansing of the Word Bearers ranks, before Horus had turned. Why would it have been reformed? He realised now that Sarabdal knew something. Marduk had lost the support of that powerful Dark Apostle. He was alone.
“…arduk, the Nexus Arrangement… ready to be activated on my command?”
“Yes, Grand Apostle,” said Marduk, sending the vox to all receiving channels. His words would be broadcast to the bridge of each Dark Apostle within the fleet. Each remaining Dark Apostle.
“Good… Continue as planned…” came the crackling order from the Maledictus Confutatis. “…in attack formation, penetra
ting the… belt at co-ordinates FZ3.503.M… combat speed…”
“No turning back now,” murmured Burias.
The ships of the Word Bearers fleet began to advance, engines burning with the white-hot intensity as they moved towards the asteroid belt in the distance. The outer region of the binary solar system was in perpetual shadow, for such was the density of the asteroid belt that it virtually blocked out all light from the two suns at the system’s epicentre.
“What is your order?” said Kol Badar, belligerently.
“You will refer to the Dark Apostle by his Council-ordained title at all times, Coryphaus,” rumbled Ashkanez.
“Or what, First Acolyte?” snapped Kol Badar, glaring down at Ashkanez.
“Or you will be duly chastened,” said Ashkanez, his gaze unwavering.
“By who?” snorted Kol Badar. “You?”
“If such is the Dark Apostle’s will,” said Ashkanez. Marduk could smell the adrenaline coming off the First Acolyte’s skin as his body readied itself for combat.
“Enough,” snapped Marduk, conscious of the cynical smile that had appeared on the pale face of the Black Legion sorcerer as his underlings bickered. “This is not the time. The Infidus Diabolus shall continue on course. Maintain formation. But re-route additional power to the shields. A precaution against… further enemy attack.”
“The disposition of the enemy defence fleet has been confirmed,” said Kol Badar, consulting his information feed. “They have been bolstered by two Astartes strike cruisers. White Consuls.”
“Good,” said Marduk. “It has been too long since I have killed any sons of Guilliman.”
“Those two cruisers will be just the start,” said Kol Badar. “The defence fleet is heavily outnumbered—they will be hoping that we plough headlong through the asteroid belt like blood-crazed savages to engage them. As soon as we do, their reinforcements will drop in via the wormholes, coming through en masse. That is what I would do. There will be no chance of retreat. We will be annihilated.”
“Except it will not be us who are annihilated when their reinforcements fail to appear,” said Marduk.
“I shall believe that when I see it,” said Kol Badar.
“Have faith, my Coryphaus,” said Marduk.
“My faith in the gods is not in question,” said Kol Badar. “It is my faith in the magos and that xenos device that is weak.”
“The engagement is beginning,” said the Black Legion sorcerer. He was staring through the viewing portal. Marduk followed his gaze.
A thousand kilometres in front, the lead elements of the Word Bearers fleet had reached the immense wall of asteroids. The hulking slave ships were expelling vast clouds of smaller craft, poorly armed shuttles and transports for the most part. Like a swarm of insects they entered the asteroid belt, urged on by the whim of their Word Bearers masters. The first explosions lit up the darkness.
From within the asteroid belt, scores of self-powered mines accelerated towards the intruders, drawn to their heat-signatures like flies to a corpse. Each was half the size of a Thunderhawk gunship and easily capable of inflicting catastrophic damage to even a well-armoured ship. They attached themselves to the hulls of the cult ships before detonating with catastrophic effect, coronas of red fire flaring across the battlefront. The larger slave hulks were ripped apart as dozens of mines clamped onto them.
Cannon batteries erupted, targeting incoming mines as the slave ships continued to plough ever deeper into the asteroid belt. Scores of mines detonated prematurely, their explosions prickling the darkness, but others weathered the storm of incoming fire, zoning in on the invading ships and blasting them into oblivion.
Lance batteries hidden within the hollowed out centre of the largest asteroids began to fire, concentrated beams searing through shields and cutting slave hulks in two. Asteroids exploded into dust and scores of ships were ripped apart as more white-hot beams of light speared through the mayhem, and more explosions deeper into the asteroid belt erupted as the ships pushing ahead drew more mines to them.
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’ 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 leechlike tendrils of Ekodas’ 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’ glowering visage faded to black. The invasive tendrils of Ekodas’ 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.”
[Word Bearers 03] - Dark Creed Page 7
