‘Stand.’

  Hesitantly, gaze averted, the Imperial commander pushed himself upright.

  ‘Look at me.’

  Lowensten did so, swallowing hard, his jaw twitching. His eyes still carried a look of stoic strength.

  ‘Do you believe you deserve death?’

  The hard stare wavered.

  ‘I… I would rather live, but I am resigned to my failures.’

  ‘Why did you offer surrender to the enemies of the Emperor?’

  ‘I was weak.’ There was no equivocation in his tone or expression. The Imperial commander spoke as though he expected these words to be recorded as his last. ‘We could not know what was happening. The Astronomican disappeared, the warp vanished. The will to live, the enemy sapped it from us hour by hour. Only here on the palaces did we keep some semblance of order. We could not protect a whole world. I could not. I feared that if they attacked us directly then all hope of resistance would be lost. Perhaps, just perhaps, we could divert their ire while we found a way to break the curse on our minds.’

  ‘A ruse? It was a ruse?’

  ‘I would lie if I said I did not consider it a capitulation. I was ready to surrender. But I did not intend to do so permanently if opportunity arose.’

  The commander flinched when Aeschelus lifted his blade. It was a human response, nothing more. He owned his guilt plainly. Aeschelus could see strength there, and honour. Was it his duty to kill a man for a momentary lapse? Could he hold Lowensten to the same standard as an augmented officer of the Adeptus Astartes, to be unflinching in every circumstance? And though he was foremost a military officer, he was not ignorant of the political implications, regardless of what he had said to Fedualis. It was not his mission simply to slay the foe, but to restore the power of the Imperium.

  He sheathed his blade and the hall was filled with sighs, whispers and relieved laughter.

  Lowensten stood unmoving, face impassive. ‘I thought you would do it,’ he said quietly.

  ‘I might still, if you disappoint me, Imperial commander.’

  Lowensten nodded and signalled to his court to approach. Aeschelus turned to Praxa­medes and gave him a nod. They had already discussed what preparations needed to be made. The Ultramarines had dealt a blow to the xenos scum but the foe was not yet defeated. They had to be driven from the system if the Ithraca’s Vengeance was to make warp translation again. And any intelligence learnt here could be taken to Casparill and any other systems that were suffering the same fate. One battle was only the beginning of something much larger, but none of it would be possible if they faltered now.

  Simut sat on the command throne of the Sun of Endings contemplating the events that had befallen his fleet. How had a single enemy ship sown such disarray? Which of his underlings had failed so miserably that the majestic Barge of the Stormhawk was now a splintered, blackened ruin upon the surface of a barbarian world? All protocols had been followed as decreed, yet the enemy had struck in such a way that every conceivable defence had been neutralised.

  It all stemmed from the unknown shadowcloak that had prevented their early detection. Whatever technology they had employed was now defunct, however. The tomb ship’s sensors could clearly pick up the enemy ship in close proximity to the artificial satellite. Other ships had gathered in orbit also, forming a blockade against the depleted necron forces.

  The only point of optimism was the continued survival of the resonator. If the enemy had realised its value…

  That they had not discerned its purpose was odd. Reviewing the aliens’ actions pointed Simut to a single conclusion.

  ‘Their whole attack was aimed at eliminating me,’ he declared, drawing the attention of Phetos and Ah-hotep, who had been monitoring the renewed sensor data to formulate the next cascade to initiate. ‘How did they identify me? You saw how they came directly for the Barge of the Stormhawk. This was an assassination attempt!’

  ‘Impossible,’ said Ah-hotep. ‘Who would know that we are here?’

  ‘A traitor,’ snarled Simut, fists clenched. ‘Not Phetos. He could no more betray me than tear off his own legs.’

  ‘If you commanded it, I would make the attempt, Lord of the Golden Dunes.’

  ‘A rival in one of the other dynasties?’ suggested Ah-hotep. ‘One of the Sautekh? Mephrit?’

  ‘My cousin has kept his personal project secret. No others know of his ambition.’

  ‘The experiment proceeds with success, Eagle of the Void. Another may have noticed the effect we are having on the neversea. A rival with power and influence might have discerned your involvement in some way, and is using the humans as proxies rather than revealing their hand.’

  ‘An unlikely supposition, my lord,’ said Ah-hotep, drifting closer. ‘Yet the attack displayed remarkable knowledge of our protocols. Perhaps it–’

  Before the plasmancer could finish, Simut felt a sudden encumbrance upon his cortical field. A powerful communications signal was incoming, and even before it arrived he could guess its source.

  ‘You are dismissed,’ he snarled, waving a hand. Translocators whipped the royal warden, lychguards and plasmancer to a secondary chamber several levels below. A pulsed imperative closed the doors, barring their exit until he was ready for them.

  On the hierolith, a grainy image of Tholotep appeared, standing tall in full regalia. The manner of the transmission’s arrival spoke volumes – a higher-powered insertion directly into the control matrix, not an underling’s request for connection. Yet the appearance of the emissary was disappointing. Simut had thought such an authoritative transmission would come from the king himself, not a simple herald.

  ‘Greetings, tongue of my cousin,’ said Simut, rising slightly to incline his head. He sat down again. ‘I am honoured by my cousin’s regard.’

  ‘There is no good regard, Simut,’ barked the emissary. ‘And cease this affectation of familial identity. King Szarekh is very disappointed. An alarming series of protocol breaches have been detected in your matrix. We cannot locate the Barge of the Stormhawk nor several of your attendant barques.’

  ‘There have been complications in the seventh system of the Anarakh Veil. A brief resurgence of opposition that will soon be overcome.’

  ‘The loss of your tomb ship is a complication? Pity you were not aboard it. The operation is at a critical juncture, gaining momentum across several systems. You were tasked with escorting resonators to blackstone-scarce worlds because it is a simple labour, quite within your capabilities. You need no expertise on alignment and construction, simply to guide the resonator to its appointed site and allow it to activate.’

  ‘The barbarians are unsurprisingly resistant to the idea of being cowed,’ said Simut. ‘Did you not think there would be war?’

  ‘Your excuses are futile. Only results have substance. What is your plan to regain control of the situation?’

  ‘I will proceed with alacrity, escorting the resonator to the site and installing it as soon as possible. Its presence and activation will still any further combative elements the enemy can muster. They seem unaware of its role and so bringing it to the surface of the third world does not require much in the way of subterfuge.’

  ‘Very well. This is your last chance, Simut. If you fail, if you take too long, the king will remove you from your office and banish you to the stasis coils.’

  ‘No.’

  The thought of an eternity in conscious limbo filled Simut with dread. Having woken from an aeons-long slumber to see the galaxy upended, he would not be rendered idle and impotent while the necrons reclaimed their glorious position of dominance.

  ‘It shall be done. Tell my cousin he may have rivals in another dynasty. I have been the victim of an attempted assassination. Who knows what other plots are afoot?’

  ‘Do not concern yourself with dynastic matters. When you have completed your task you may return to your place in court. Until then, be glad if I do not need to speak with you again.’

  The image blinked away, leaving Simut alone in the darkness of the tomb ship. He could feel an insistent nagging from Ah-hotep, demanding to be released. Politer enquiries were made on behalf of Phetos. Remembering his promise to Tholotep, Simut opened the barrier wards and summoned his entourage back to the chamber. There was much to be done and not much time to accomplish it.

  Ah-hotep despised hosting the overlord on her tomb ship even more than she had loathed being his puppet from afar. Just his raw presence at the centre of her personal matrix was an affront to all dignity, squatting in her command chamber like a parasitic worm eating at the guts of a king. His protocols polluted everything they came into contact with, as though incompetence was a virus. While the fleet gathered in strength around the resonator, ready to press on towards the third planet, Simut delved into her archives and vaults, raking over old encounters and activating her legion as though they were toys to play with. She was thankful to have had the foresight to wipe away every trace of the enemy vessel she had detected, so that it seemed her ship had been afflicted with the same blindness she had imposed on the Barge of the Stormhawk.

  Unable to contain her frustration and revulsion, she excused herself on an errand into the depths and headed for the secret chamber isolated by the technomandrite protocols. To all cortical fields except her own, the room did not exist. The technomandrites had wrapped it up with dimensional wards that even she did not understand, its net of energies so finely described she could not follow the complexities. Only when physically stood at the boundary could she regard the chamber beyond.

  Stepping inside, she knew it would not be long before Simut’s impatience got the better of him and he looked for her. To all intents her persona was located in the adjoining vaults, a resonance on the energy streams that gave the impression she was working on a transference fault. If the overlord tried his trick of forced translocation… That would be a problem.

  Ah-hotep activated the communications grid, considering her words. She held her feelings in check at first, remembering that her reports needed to be clear to have any function.

  ‘An unexpected enemy has bolstered the defences of the system. Militarily they have achieved a victory beyond their numbers but it is their effect on morale and their ability to function adequately within the overnull that is of most interest. They are clearly humans of some sub-type, well-equipped and trained. There is something else about them. I have briefly seen their energy patterns and as well as possessing immense biological power their brain activity is heightened in a very particular way. I am sure the technomandrites have studied these creatures in more detail and perhaps will already be aware of this resistance. The greatest threat to the project is the way a relative few warriors of this sect can have a disproportionate effect on other humans. They are not astromancers in themselves but evidence similar properties with regard to the neversea and the effect of the overnull.’

  She paused the broadcast to her distant masters, flitting a momentary inspection protocol from her data-facsimile whilst checking there had been no attempt at contact from the command-mastaba. Canop­tek scarabs and reanimators busied themselves through the corridors, attending to the war-folk that had been released from the stasis tombs.

  ‘I believe that Simut’s incompetence will hamper the effort but not so much that the inevitable victory occurs. Szarekh is clearly growing short of patience and I fear that he will replace Simut with a more capable overlord soon. I know my purpose has been to observe and report to the technomandrites but I can sense the time is coming when I must act. It is not by a whim that they chose me for this task. Though it is in its foundational stages, the overnull project will soon prove its effectiveness. When that is achieved then the Silent King will press ahead with its rapid expansion, uncaring that its existence will come to light. By then it may be too late for the other dynasties to prevent him accomplishing his goals and stilling the neversea across his domains. When that is achieved he will focus his attention not only on the alien ­menaces but also his rivals within our great civilisation.

  ‘I will stop him. Szarekh can never be allowed to attain the power he desires. As for Simut… Before the end, I will make sure his dreams are crushed and his legacy scattered to the cosmic winds. I will feed on his escaping essence! He will know despair before his end, and he will also know it is I that brings it! By the ancient rites of Sorek and Ashok, by the seven shadows of Cartha, I curse Simut and his line!’

  Ah-hotep stopped, fearful that her anger-fuelled tirade might breach even the secure vault’s silencing protocols. She felt better for the outburst, and armed with the righteousness of what was to come she quit the chamber and dismissed her cortical doppelganger. Now her state of mind was prepared. Every humiliation, every dismissive word, every forced translocation and arrogant summons would be answered. Flexing clawed hands, her spine-tail twitching as she made her way back to the control chamber, Ah-hotep no longer felt impatient for justice. Now she savoured the anticipation of revenge.

  CHAPTER TWO

  On his way back to the Ithraca’s Vengeance, after concluding the council with Lowensten, Aeschelus was surprised to find Sister-Chatelain Aures waiting for him in the airlock vestibule.

  ‘Captain, I need to speak with you,’ the Adepta Sororitas official said quietly, directing a look at the red-coated soldiers that had followed the Ultramarines’ honour guard back from the audience. ‘Just a moment of your time, if you please.’

  ‘Of course,’ the captain replied. He turned to the Orestean planetary troopers. ‘You are a credit to your world and you honour me with your guard. We are on the eve of fresh battle and I would not keep you from your preparations. You are dismissed.’

  The platoon officer looked nonplussed for a few seconds and Aeschelus wondered if he was going to refuse the order.

  ‘The honour is ours, Captain Aeschelus. To have the warriors of Ultramar at our side gives us all courage, even as this infernal curse of the xenos beats down upon us.’

  ‘Remain strong and true to each other,’ Aeschelus told them. ‘A few more hours, maybe days, and we will know victory.’

  Assurance seemed to work a wonder on their mood. Presenting their rifles in salute, the Oresteans departed with smiles and stiffer backs.

  ‘Is that true, captain?’ said Aures. ‘You expect to destroy the necrons within days?’

  ‘I would not lie,’ said Aeschelus. He looked along the gallery, past the Imperial commander’s ancestors, and saw that the honour guard had exited. ‘Do you desire to come aboard?’

  ‘No, that will not be necessary.’ Aures produced a sapphire-blue data crystal from a pouch at her belt and offered it to the Space Marine. ‘You cannot trust the Imperial commander. I did not agree with his decision to offer surrender but I am bound by my oaths to the Sisterhood to support his family and position. I think he may still be trying to broker with the aliens.’

  ‘And this is proof?’ said Praxa­medes, stepping closer.

  Aures darted him an accusing look before glancing at the other blue-armoured giants waiting nearby.

  ‘Primaris Marines have very good hearing, Sister,’ said Praxa­medes. ‘There’s not a warrior present that did not hear what you said.’

  Aures looked unsettled, surrounded by the bulky warriors.

  ‘You can trust us all, Sister,’ said Brother Garios, the leader of the Bladeguard squad. ‘We are sworn to the command of our captain and if you trust him, you trust us.’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ said Aures, not sounding convinced.

  Aeschelus motioned to Garios and the other Bladeguard. ‘We must depart soon. I do not think I am in immediate peril, brother.’

  ‘As you command, my brother-captain,’ said Garios. He raised his blade, first in salute to the Sister and then to Aeschelus. The other Bladeguard did likewise as they each turned away and headed out through the airlock.

  ‘This is not proof, not as would convince a tribunal, but it shows intent,’ said Aures. Aeschelus held out his hand and she dropped the crystal into his armoured palm. It looked tiny against the blue of his gauntlet, a ­fragile thing to carry such weight of importance. ‘These are recordings from the council chambers. Review them and see what you think.’

  ‘We’re about to embark on a joint military campaign with the forces of Orestes,’ said Praxa­medes. ‘If you have concerns, we must hear them. You say we cannot trust the Imperial commander. What is he going to do?’

  ‘I do not know, but I have been excluded from deliberations of the council since your arrival in orbit was detected. The court monitoring scribes have been dismissed as well. There exist no records of what has been discussed.’

  ‘Suspicious, but not damning,’ Praxa­medes replied.

  ‘I will look at this,’ said Aeschelus. ‘Thank you for bringing it to me. I assume there is some risk should your suspicions prove correct. You may have sanctuary on my vessel if you require it.’

  ‘An offer I may accept at another time, but for now my place is with the court of Orestes, for better or worse. Perhaps the Imperial commander will take me into his confidences again and I can dissuade him from any folly.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ said Aeschelus, closing his fist around the crystal. He lifted it to his plastron and bowed his head. ‘By the Emperor’s Grace, Sister. I bid you fair fortunes.’

  She returned his thanks with a nod of her own before hurrying back along the gallery.

  Aeschelus did not wait to see her through the other doorway, but turned back to his ship, Praxa­medes at his side.

  ‘A serious business,’ said the lieutenant. ‘What do you make of it?’

  ‘Trouble, either way,’ said Aeschelus as they strode up the docking gantry and onto the strike cruiser. It felt good to have the deck beneath his feet again. ‘Set course for upper orbit. I want a report from Nem­etus regarding the situation on the surface. And prepare the anterium. We will review this data there.’

 

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