“The xenos approach,” hissed Marduk. “They are calling it to them.”
“If we are going to do this, we need to do it now,” said Kol Badar.
Another explosion shook the Infidus Diabolus.
“We cannot take much more of this,” said Kol Badar. Marduk came to a decision. “Do it,” he said.
Sabtec held the vortex grenade that Marduk had claimed from magos Darioq-Grendh’al, the most potent man-portable weapon that the Imperium had ever produced. He prayed that this was going to work. Sabtec readied the device, thumbing its activation code and timer, his movements precise and careful. It began to blink with a repetitive red beacon.
“Armed!” said Sabtec.
Marduk muttered a prayer to the gods and tossed the Nexus Arrangement through the gaping, spherical aperture of one of the Deathclaw assault pods.
Sabtec lobbed the vortex grenade in behind it, and Kol Badar slammed his fist onto the launch press-switch.
The Deathclaw’s hatch slid closed with a metallic screech.
“Now, we pray,” breathed Marduk.
Half a second later, the assault pod fired, shooting down the launch tube at high speed. Spiralling like a bullet, the drop-pod screamed down the fifty metres of tube before launching out into space, engines roaring.
Marduk held his breath as he watched the Deathclaw blasting out away from the Infidus Diabolus.
Three seconds later, the vortex grenade detonated.
A sphere of absolute darkness appeared, swallowing all light as the vortex grenade created a miniature black hole three hundred metres off the starboard bow. Its hemisphere touched a twisted mess of space debris half the length of the Infidus Diabolus, and it was instantly consumed. Marduk shuddered to think what would have happened had the device detonated prematurely.
The Deathclaw was swallowed instantly, crumpling to the size of an atom and blinking out of existence.
The Nexus Arrangement was destroyed along with it, and with it gone, its hold over the Boros Gate was lifted.
“We have multiple contacts!” bellowed Ankh-Heloth. “Mass transference is underway!”
“Gods above!” swore Belagosa. “The gateways are open!”
“No!” roared Ekodas as his scanners lit up with dozens of flashing icons. Gazing out of the curved portal before him, he saw the first of the Imperial ships materialise on his starboard bow, the Astartes battle-barge emerging from the rent that had been ripped in realspace, its hull blackened and the iconography of a bared sword plastered across its prow. Its hull was bathed in warp-light and it lurched towards the Crucius Maledictus as its weapons powered up.
“We must fight clear! We cannot win here!” yelled Ankh-Heloth.
“No!” spat Ekodas. “I will not flee the enemy like a coward! Target them! Take them down!”
Ignoring his order, Ekodas saw the flickering icon of the Anarchus begin to turn away, desperately attempting to extricate itself from the soon to erupt firestorm. Ekodas knew that it would be too slow. They were all dead.
“Nova-cannon ready to fire,” drawled a servitor hardwired into the battle control systems of the bridge.
“Target the battle-barge,” Ekodas bellowed, gesturing frantically. With painful reluctance, the Crucius Maledictus began to swing around, even as the first shots began to pound at her shields.
Dozens of enemy ships were making transference now, materialising all around the Crucius Maledictus and its beleaguered fleet. He saw a massive starship, a Darkstar fortress, emerge directly in front of his own hulking flagship.
“New target!” roared Ekodas.
Cross-hair reticules upon vid-screens blinked as they locked onto the massive battle station. “Fire!” ordered Ekodas.
The Crucius Maledictus shook as her mighty nova cannon was unleashed, and the Darkstar was momentarily hidden within its blast. Then it emerged, unscathed, though more than half its shields had been stripped. He saw the Anarchus explode in a billowing corona, targeted by the combined fire of two newly arrived Astartes battle-barges and four Imperial battle cruisers. The battle would be over in seconds.
“Ready the cannon for another shot!” bellowed Ekodas. He did not see the silver strike cruiser blink into existence on his flank, nor see it turn and begin angling towards his vessel.
The first he knew of the Grey Knights’ attack was when twenty Terminator-armoured battle-brothers of the Chamber Militant appeared on his bridge, teleporting across the empty gulf between their own vessel and the hulking Chaos flagship in the blink of an eye.
Garbed in their archaic armour and with Nemesis force weapons clutched in their gauntleted hands, the Terminators of the Ordo Malleus obliterated everyone on the command deck in a devastating salvo.
Alone, Ekodas rose from the hail of fire.
“A curse upon your name, Marduk,” snarled Ekodas. He stepped forward to meet the Grey Knights. He did not even make it two metres before he was cut down.
Marduk laughed out loud as he witnessed the destruction of his brethren. The spectacle was awe-inspiring.
“The xenos?” said Kol Badar as the lights began blinking back into life upon the bridge’s control dais.
“Gone,” said Sabtec, studying the vid-screens. “They disappeared as soon as the Nexus was destroyed.”
“Power up the warp drive,” Marduk ordered, not taking his eyes off the scene of glorious destruction occurring beyond the curving view-deck. “Set coordinates for Sicarus. We are going home.”
EPILOGUE
Marduk marched beside First Chaplain Erebus through the high vaulted halls of the Basilica of Torment. The sound of their footsteps echoed hollowly in the high vaulted space. Immense vertebrae-like pillars towered above them. Robed adepts skulked in the shadows, prostrating themselves as the holy duo passed them by.
“The loss of the device is disappointing,” Erebus was saying. “But it served its purpose. The enemies of the XVII Legion have been exposed.”
“Will the Council declare war upon Kor Phaeron?” said Marduk in a low voice. Bedecked in his ancient suit of Terminator armour, he loomed over the compact figure of Erebus.
The First Chaplain’s head was shaven smooth and oiled. Every inch of exposed skin was covered in intricate cuneiform.
“The Brotherhood and all who gave them succour shall burn, have no doubt of that,” said Erebus. “But my brother shall not be touched. He has already distanced himself from the Brotherhood, severing all links that tied it back to him. He has left them to the wolves, and there shall be no reparations against him. And if I ever hear you refer to the Keeper of the Faith by name again, Marduk, I will see you flayed alive.”
The First Chaplain had not raised his voice, and spoke in a calm, matter-of-fact voice, yet Marduk paled.
“I do not understand, master,” said Marduk. Erebus smiled.
“The Keeper of the Faith and I have known each other for a very long time,” he said. Every Word Bearer knew that Erebus and Kor Phaeron were the first and closest comrades of their lord primarch, Lorgar. “It has always been like this between us. Our little straggles against each other mean nothing.”
Marduk walked in silence, baffled. For long minutes the pair marched through the basilica. The immense, carved bone doors of the Council chambers loomed up ahead of them.
“The death of the Black Legion sorcerer displeases me, however,” said Erebus finally, and Marduk’s blood ran cold. “It will have consequences. But no matter. What’s done is done.”
“Will the Black Legion seek amends?”
Glancing sideways, he saw that Erebus was smiling. It was a mocking and sinister sight, and Marduk’s unease redoubled.
“Abaddon seek amends against us? No,” said Erebus. “But he will not be pleased. It will raise his suspicion. We will have to be more… circumspect in the coming days.”
Marduk felt like a child, not understanding a half of what Erebus implied.
“There are some who feel that Abaddon is not worthy of bearing the title
Warmaster any longer,” said Erebus. “Some feel the time approaches for him to be… relieved of the position.”
Marduk’s eyes widened in shock.
“Ekodas’ death leaves a gap on the Council,” said Erebus, and Marduk looked at him in surprise. Erebus’ face gave away nothing. His eyes were as cold and dead as those of a corpse. “I want someone that I know I can trust to take his place.”
Marduk’s heart was beating hard in his chest.
“I can trust you, can’t I, Marduk?” said Erebus, coming to an abrupt halt and turning towards the Dark Apostle. His voice was silken with threat and promise.
“Implicitly, my lord,” said Marduk, dropping to one knee. “My life is yours.”
“Good,” said Erebus, laying his hand upon Marduk’s crown in a casual benediction. “There is much work to be done.”
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[Word Bearers 03] - Dark Creed Page 32
