1_For_The_Emperor

by Sandy Mitchel

  We had anticipated little difficulty in achieving this end, for what forces could he possibly have had at his disposal to defy His Divine Majesty's most loyal servants? A handful of palace guards, if that, whose martial abilities had been found sorely wanting when they were called upon to defend his residence from

  no more than a street-brawling mob. So it was with ever-rising confidence that we swept through the desolated streets on our errand of vengeance; a confidence which was soon to seem gravely misplaced.

  My first warning that all was not well was the sound of an explosion, as a krak missile detonated against the hull of one of the Chimeras ahead of us. From my position in the turret of my command vehicle, I could see the bright blossoming of the explosion, an unfolding red rose of destruction that scored the armour plating on one side. It evidently failed to penetrate, however, as the dauntless gunner swung the turret round, unleashing a hail of heavy bolts at the importunate enemy. My sense of satisfaction at seeing the building from which the attack came scoured with the Emperor's retribution was short-lived, however, as a number of other missiles followed it, hissing from positions concealed in the rubble around us.

  Inevitably, some found their mark, penetrating armour and shattering tracks, bringing several of our Chimeras to a halt; and the chatter on the vox channels told me that our company was not alone in being so treacherously defied. The other elements of our regiment, strung out along many of the adjacent roads in an effort to surround the palace, were under similar attack, and a glance at my tactical slate was enough to tell me that this was a well-planned operation, executed with a meticulous precision greatly at

  odds with the bedraggled and dispirited force we had expected to meet. Without further thought I dropped back inside the Chimera, where the specialised sensoria and vox equipment would let me direct my subordinates to greater effect, and began to plan our response.

  'Halt and dismount!' I ordered, realising that our advance would be stalled indefinitely unless we closed with the enemy on foot, our lumbering vehicles being easy targets for the dug-in missile teams, and our drivers made haste to obey.

  It was then that I took to my feet myself, for the whole vehicle rang with a sudden impact, and we slowed to a halt, thick smoke billowing through the crew compartment. Swift enquiry made it obvious that our driver was dead, so I lost no time in forming up my command team and bailing out of our now crippled Chimera.

  A scene of sheer pandemonium met my appalled gaze as we pounded down the ramp. Two of the armoured carriers were on fire, and a handful of others immobilized; the rest were manoeuvring into what cover they could find. I followed suit smartly as a flurry of las-bolts erupted from the enemy positions, impacting around us as we took whatever shelter presented itself.

  'Third Platoon, report.' Major Broklaw's voice was strong in my combead, his calm demeanour reassuring despite the confusion surrounding us. I

  responded as crisply as I could, as befitted a warrior of the Emperor.

  'We're immobilised, and taking fire,' I reported. 'The enemy seems well dug in.'

  'They were waiting for us,' he said. That was my opinion, too; the positions they occupied had to have been prepared some time in advance. The implications of this were staggering. The governor had obviously realised the game was up, but where had he found the troops we were facing? I levelled my optical enhancers, and inhaled sharply.

  'The enemy are PDF elements,' I reported. A couple of the lurking figures still had blue rags tied around an arm, but the squad leader, confusingly, bore the makeshift insignia of the imperial faction in the recent civil disturbances.

  'Loyalist or xenoist?' Colonel Kasteen cut in. For a moment I was at a loss as to how to answer.

  'Both,' I said at last. 'Both factions seem to be working together now-'

  'That doesn't make sense!' Broklaw said, an edge of frustration beginning to enter his voice. But Kasteen remained unruffled, fine commander that she was.

  'Nothing about this Emperor-forsaken rathole makes any sense,' she pointed out reasonably. But the major was right about one thing.

  'There are no loyalists any more,' he said. 'Take them all'

  That was an order we could obey with enthusiasm, and we went to it with a will, of that you may be sure. All the frustration we had endured since our arrival on Gravalax came boiling to the surface, transmuted into true martial zeal, and I vowed that the blood of the traitor would surely be shed this day.

  As I urged my troopers forward, and watched the sentinels move up to suppress the first line of resistance, a flash of motion in the corner of my eye drew my attention skyward. Sure enough, it was one of the tau's aerial pictcasters, and a momentary shiver of apprehension passed through me as my mind became crowded with questions. What were the enigmatic aliens making of all this? And, more to the point, what, if anything, were they intending to do about it?

  FIFTEEN

  It's never too late to panic.

  – Popular Valhallan folk saying.

  I don't mind admitting that the aftermath of the fight in the corridor had left me completely drained, both mentally and physically. I washed the worst of the dust from my throat with a couple of swallows from my canteen, but I couldn't shake the gritty feel of it from my skin, or my hair, or the inside of my clothes, and I wouldn't be able to, either, until about the third shower. As it turned out, by the time I got the opportunity for that, the dust would be the least of my worries.

  And Jurgen was dead. I still couldn't quite believe it, after so many years and so many dangers faced

  and bested together. The sense of loss was numbing, and quite unexpected. Somehow I'd always assumed we'd meet our ends together, when fate finally pitched me into something my luck and finely-honed survival instinct couldn't get me out of.

  So, for an indeterminate time, I said nothing, and trailed after Amberley, who at least seemed to have some kind of plan. All this time, I remember, I kept my pistol in my hand, a curious thing to do as we were in no apparent danger, but I'd somehow kept hold of it when the wall collapsed and felt strangely reluctant to return it to its holster. Later, I found bruising on my palm where I'd been grasping it, so tight was my grip.1

  We'd gone some distance in silence before Amberley spoke again, the pressure in my ears telling me that the tunnel we were in had begun to descend gradually but there didn't seem to be any obvious route back to the surface, so I guessed this was as good a direction as any. I suppose I should have mentioned it, but it never occurred to me that she wouldn't have noticed. If I'd realised that she hadn't, and thought we were still moving on the level, I certainly would have mentioned it, believe me, especially if I'd known what was waiting down there on the lowest tier.

  1 As I said before, he seemed to be suffering from shock for some time after we lost our companions. He was, however, remarkably robust, and recovered far more quickly than I would have believed possible; no doubt the many perils he'd faced and escaped before had inured him to some extent to psychological traumas most men would have found incapacitating.

  "Well, I guess that answers the main question anyway' she said.

  'Which question?' I asked. By now, the whole situation had become so bizarre that none of it seemed to make any sense. I was beginning to feel that the only thing I could truly rely on was the prospect of more treachery and confusion to come, and in that I was far from disappointed. Amberley looked momentarily surprised, and then pleased that I'd responded.

  'The main one/ she repeated. 'Who would have something to gain by provoking a war with the tau?'

  The hive fleet/ I said, and shuddered despite the clammy warmth of the tunnel. If the 'stealers were indeed the harbingers of a fresh tyranid onslaught, then they were working to a more grandiose strategy than any I'd heard of before, and the implications of that were far from comforting. She nodded, clearly pleased with my response, and intent on prolonging the conversation. I assume she was trying to keep me centred on the mission,1 and prevent me from dwelling too m
uch on what had happened to our companions.

  'The 'stealer cult has obviously been active here for several generations already. Lucky it's such a backwater, or the contagion might have spread halfway across the sector by now/

  That's something/ I agreed. I know from my subsequent contacts with her that she followed up the

  1 He assumes correctly; right then I needed a warrior with me, not a basket case.

  possibility anyway, and managed to eradicate a couple of small subcults which had made the hop to neighbouring systems before they got properly established, but the danger did indeed seem to have been contained; at least, until the hive fleets showed up in person, and we realised we were facing a war on two fronts. I thought for a moment, then added, They've obviously been here long enough to infiltrate the PDF pretty thoroughly'

  'Among other things,' the inquisitor agreed. I nodded too, beginning to be drawn into the conversation in spite of myself.

  'It looks like they managed to get involved in the local political groups too. The xenoist faction…'

  'And the loyalist.' She smiled grimly. 'Raising the tension between the two, splitting the PDF. It's currency to cabbages it was cultists in both factions who started them shooting at each other, and got the loyalists to attack the tau/

  'Hoping to draw us into a war, so we'd chew each other to pieces, and let the hive fleet walk into the sector practically unopposed/ I shuddered again. 'It's diabolical. And it came so close to succeeding…'

  'It still might.' Amberley's voice was grim. 'We're the only two left who know about this. If we can't tell the lord general…'

  They might still succeed/ I finished for her. The prospect of that was almost too grim to be contemplated, and we walked on together in silence for some time.

  Perhaps it was just as well that we did, for, after a while, I began to detect a faint murmur up ahead over the scuff of our boot soles through the thick dust which carpeted the corridor ahead of us. I had found that reassuring, since it would muffle our footfalls, and indicated quite clearly that no one else had been this way in decades; which meant we were unlikely to be running into any more ambushes. The presence of other sounds down here, though, might be a cause for concern. I held up my hand and doused my lumina-tor, waiting again for my eyes to adjust, the last remnants of my torpor dropping away like a blanket at reveille, replaced by a sudden surge of adrenaline.

  'What is it?' Amberley asked, following suit and plunging us into even deeper darkness.

  'I'm not sure/ I admitted. 'But I think I can hear something/ To my pleased surprise, she didn't ask for more details, evidently trusting me to provide them if I had them, so I concentrated my energies on listening. It wasn't even a sound, as such, more of a vibration in the air, The nearest I can come to explaining it is by saying that it was akin to the way I could tell roughly how close I was to a wall in the dark by the way the echoes changed. Bottom line is you either know what I'm talking about, in which case you probably grew up in the underhive, too, or you'll just have to take my word for it.

  In any event, there was nothing to be gained by staying here, so we moved on at last, trusting my dark-attuned senses rather than activating the luminators again. My palms were tingling in that old familiar

  way, and Amberley seemed to trust my instincts, at least in this environment. The corridor continued to be relatively open ahead of us, so moving in the dark was less taxing than you might think, and I gradually became aware of a faint luminescence ahead of us in the gloom.

  'Is that light ahead?' Amberley murmured, confirming my thought, and I whispered an agreement. The sounds were getting louder too, but still too faint to discern. There was an organic quality about them, though, which raised the hairs on the back of my neck.

  'About half a klom,' I added, still keeping my voice low, and hefting the pistol in my hand.

  'Maybe it's a way up to the surface/ she whispered hopefully. I shook my head, not sure whether she would be able to see the movement yet against the gradually intensifying glow.

  'We've come too deep for that. We must have gone down at least three levels in the last couple of hours-'

  And you didn't think to say anything?' Her voice was a furious hiss, and for the first time I realised she hadn't noticed the change in depth. 'We were supposed to be looking for a way out, in case you'd forgotten!'

  'I thought you knew/ I snapped back, feeling oddly defensive. 'You're the one in charge of this expedition, remember?'

  Am I? Oh yes, now you come to mention it, I suppose I am!' There was a petulant edge to her voice which I found incongruously at odds with her rank and power, and all at once, I felt an overwhelming urge to laugh. It was probably just the tension, but

  the full absurdity of the situation suddenly hit me. Here we were, the only two people left alive to warn the Imperium of a terrifying threat, lost, alone, outnumbered, surrounded by an army of monsters, bickering like a couple of juvies on a disappointing date. I bit my lower lip, but the harder I tried to suppress it the more the laughter effervesced inside my chest, until it finally escaped with an audible snort.

  That did it. She lost her temper completely.

  'You think that's funny?' she snapped, all thoughts of concealment now completely forgotten. I should have been terrified, of course, the wrath of inquisitors not being something to be lightly invoked, but hysteria had me now, and I simply howled with glorious, tension-relieving laughter.

  'Of… Of course not/ I managed to get out between rib-shaking paroxysms. 'But… This whole thing… It's just… So ridiculous…'

  'I'm glad you think so/ she said frostily. 'But if you think I'm just going to forget…/ a brief hiccup interrupted her flow of invective. 'Forget this… Oh Emperor damn it all…/ and it infected her too, the throaty chuckle I'd found so appealing before erupting from her chest like magma. After that, there was no stopping either of us, and we simply held each other up until we could finally force the air to remain inside our aching ribs.1

  1 I would just like to point out here that this is a perfectly normal reaction to severe stress, which can in no way be interpreted as irresponsible behaviour under the circumstances.

  Afterwards, we both felt more like ourselves again, and were able to press on with renewed vigour. We'd resumed moving stealthily, though, as the mere fact that more cultists and 'stealers had failed to boil out of the walls at us probably meant we were alone down here, but we'd made enough noise between us to attract any search parties in the vicinity. Having nothing else to aim for, we kept moving towards the mysterious glow in the distance, and the closer we got, the brighter it became.

  'That's definitely artificial/ Amberley said, the yellowish tinge of electrolumination unmistakable from this distance. By the backwash of light it gave, I was able to make out more of our immediate surroundings, and was surprised to note that the stonework surrounding us was now carefully dressed, the vaulted roof being supported by well-crafted columns.

  'I think we're in a cellar of some kind/ I hazarded in an undertone. Amberley nodded.

  'I think you're right/ She had the auspex out again, and was studying the display. 'And there are people down here. Not many according to this, but…/

  She didn't have to finish the sentence. Hybrid cultists might not register on it, and any purestrains in the vicinity certainly wouldn't. Advancing would be a terrible risk, but turning back, trying to find another route to the surface through a tunnel complex swarming with 'stealers and their dupes would be almost as bad. And there was the time factor too. The longer we took to report back, the longer the

  conspirators would have to provoke their war; assuming it hadn't broken out already.

  'Only one way to find out/ I agreed, and we started cautiously forward again.

  The light was coming from a huge chamber, a high vaulted ceiling supported by columns similar to the ones I'd noticed in the corridor, but far higher and thicker. Like the chamber we'd seen before, where the cultists had attacked us, there was a wide
gallery running around the edge of the room, with a number of smaller tunnel mouths opening onto it, but to my relief I couldn't see anyone or anything up there.

  This time, however, there was no humming machinery filling the space. It was light and airy, with braziers burning incense on marble plinths, and littered with antique statuary. Dusty boxes were everywhere, and I surmised we'd stumbled across some long-forgotten depository which the cultists had appropriated for their own purposes. We slunk into it like thieves, and took shelter behind one of the pillars holding the roof up. It was as thick as a cathedral column and almost as wide as I am tall, and concealed the pair of us with ease.

  'Stairs/ Amberley nudged me, and pointed. Off to one side, a wide stone staircase rose to the gallery, from where another flight rose, cut into the stonework, rising out of sight.

  'Great/ I whispered back. But getting to them would be another problem entirely. I could see figures moving around in the distance, some of them armed. There was the usual mixture of civilian clothing and

  PDF uniforms I'd grown used to seeing among the cultists, and something else; a bright flash of crimson and gold. I nudged Amberley and pointed. 'Palace guard.' She nodded in response.

  That was a real surprise. From what Donali had said, I'd assumed they were all dead by now, but the cultists, as I'd seen on Keffia, would always try to look after their own. I began to suspect that their defence of the governor hadn't been quite as inept as they'd wanted us to think, forcing the situation to escalate by bringing the PDF onto the streets where their brood brothers could begin to work their insidious mischief. Instead of the antique longarm he'd been issued with, he was carrying a modern lasgun, looted, I assumed, from the PDF armoury.