Legends of the dark ange.., p.24
Legends Of The Dark Angels, page 24
‘So you can understand that whenever we entered a new system we treated it as hostile, not knowing what to expect. Aggression, speed and determination were our greatest weapons, tempered with purity of purpose. All were needed when we arrived at Altyes.’
‘What did you find there?’
‘The faint signals and their origin proved to be true. There were indeed humans living in Altyes. They had retained much of their civilisation, and would be a great addition to the growing Imperium but for one obstacle. Altyes was overrun with orks. The greenskins had come a century earlier, and overwhelmed the Altyans and now the whole planet was enslaved. The human population had been put to work in great factories to build ships and weapons for the orks, who covered the world in a teeming mass.
‘We struck at once. To the Altyans it must have been like a bolt of lightning from the skies, to the orks it was as if the galaxy itself had turned on them. As we descended in drop pods and transports, the fleet opened fire on the planet below. We hardened our hearts to the fact that thousands of Altyans lost their lives alongside the orks, for it was the world that we were trying to save, not individuals.
‘How often have the Dark Angels gone to war as a whole Chapter in your lifetime, Chaplain Boreas?’
‘Never in my memory, the largest engagement I have been involved in had five companies involved. Why?’
‘It is a truly inspiring sight, a whole Chapter at war! Over one thousand Space Marines embodying the Emperor’s wrath. The skies fill with the shrieking of jets and blacken with drop pods and gunships. The ground itself explodes with laser blasts, missiles and plasma, tearing at the heart of the enemy, ripping their will to fight from their chests with a single stroke. Even then, with a whole Chapter to command, a thousand Space Marines is few warriors to subjugate a world, but they are enough to destroy any enemy.
‘With decisive strikes, we destroyed and captured the largest factories and laid waste to them. Using speed and precision, we struck at the roads and bridges, the fortifications and landing pads. In orbit, our fleet engaged the ork ships and drove them into the atmosphere or reduced them to blazing hulks. Within two days we had forged ourselves a foothold on Altyes.
‘From that breaching point we expanded outwards, driving the orks back, catching them in ambushes, pushing them into ravines and to the coasts. Slowly, surely, their resistance wavered, and we continued to push them hard. We had them surrounded though they outnumbered us by hundreds-to-one, through mobility and co-ordination we divided them and sub-divided them and continued to break them up and exterminate them one part at a time.
‘Once orks have landed on a world it is polluted, and we rigorously cleansed Altyes of their presence, eradicating every shred of their contamination. They struck back where they could, but against the battle-brothers of the Dark Angels, their disorganised, lacklustre attacks were all but useless. Their ferocity was as keen as ever, but against the Lion they were doomed. They were outmatched in every single way. In firepower, in manoeuvre, in orbital supremacy, and in sheer fervour, we were always in a position of power. Where they gathered in strength, we pounded them with our ships. Where they were scattered, we sent our rapid strike forces to wipe them out before they could muster a resistance.
‘Skilled and as experienced as I was, I learned much on the Altyes campaign. I studied the Lion, the way he planned, the way he directed our strengths and employed stratagems I had never conceived of, never mind put into practice. Yes, I studied hard and learned well, but it was not until Tharsis and the quashing of the rebellion that those lessons were to be employed again by me.
‘Despite our unparalleled success, despite the valour of the battle-brothers, destroying a world full of orks is no quick matter. The days turned to weeks, then months, and then a year. But at the end, only one pocket of serious resistance remained. Several thousand orks had taken shelter in one of the passes that split the mountains at the heart of the southern continent. While half my Chapter eliminated all trace of the orks across the rest of Altyes, El’Jonson and myself mustered five companies to wipe out the final ork encampment.
‘It was then that Lion El’Jonson revealed his true nature. The orks attacked unexpectedly, perhaps driven by desperation or perhaps by seeing some weakness in our battleline. They charged out of the pass even as we prepared to attack, and smashed through the Eighth Company. But rather than stop to turn east or west, they drove north towards the city of Keltis. Our primarch instructed me to allow them to take the city. This was folly of the highest order, in my opinion, as to do so would endanger half a million Altyans needlessly.’
‘But you yourself have already told me of the casualties inflicted on the Altyans during the initial attack,’ countered Boreas. ‘What was different about the fate of Keltis?’
‘There are unavoidable civilian casualties in war,’ Astelan answered carefully. ‘Not only would great caution have risked the entire start of our campaign, it would have slowed us and, through our lack of speed, put even more Altyans at risk. At Keltis, there were no such considerations, I believe it was merely El’Jonson’s disregard for the worth of human life, his selfish preservation of those under his command, that led to his plan.’
‘So, having arrogantly decided that the primarch was wrong, what did you do then?’ Boreas asked.
‘My Second and Fourth Companies were in a position to cut off the ork attack and hold them up while the rest of the Chapter responded,’ explained Astelan. ‘It was then, as I looked at the tactical displays that both the genius and the darkness of the Lion were revealed. The Second and Fourth Companies were positioned perfectly for an attack on Keltis, and the primarch’s plan was to encircle the orks in the city and eradicate them. It also became clear to me that the chink in our armour, the scattered disposition of the Eighth Company, had been meticulously ordered by the Lion to tempt the orks from the maze of valleys and canyons. Not wishing a potentially bloody assault on the orks’ position, he had pulled them out into the open, using the people of Keltis as bait!
‘The plan had so far been a complete success, but to my eyes the sacrifice of Keltis was unnecessary. Now that the orks were on the plains, we could attack in force before they even reached the city. I requested that the Second and Fourth Companies be moved to block the ork advance.
‘Our primarch refused. He told me to allow the orks to sack Keltis and we would then converge on them in force and destroy them utterly. He was worried that if we attacked on the plains the enemy would have a chance to scatter or even retreat, costing us many more months of fighting, as well as many more Space Marine lives. I asked him how he could justify half a million deaths to save us a few battles and he said that these half a million deaths would save the lives of a hundred Space Marines.
‘I was shocked. It is not for us to reckon our worth against the lives of those we protect. Our duty was to defend mankind from aliens, not use them to save ourselves. While death in the populace of a contested world is undesirable, it is often unavoidable. Keltis however, could easily be saved, and thus I argued with El’Jonson, but he would listen to no counsel of mine. So it was with a heavy heart that I ordered the Second and Fourth Companies to intercept the orks and make a stand before they reached Keltis.’
‘You disobeyed the Lion?’ Boreas’s voice betrayed his genuine shock.
‘I did, and I would do so again. The Second and Fourth Companies took heavy casualties as El’Jonson had predicted, but they held against orks until we could counter-attack in force. Also as El’Jonson had predicted, the orks retreated back across the plains, harried by us, but the conclusive victory he had anticipated never happened. Keltis was saved though and I consider myself right to have done what I did.’
‘So what happened next?’ Boreas asked.
‘El’Jonson was enraged,’ Astelan answered, eyes closed, shaking his head. ‘He banished me and my Chapter back to Caliban, and we were replaced on Altyes by Mentheus’s Twenty-third Chapter. Oh yes, is it not convenient that they were only three sub-sectors away? Our shadows had been there all the time. I protested but El’Jonson would not even give me an audience. Thus it was that our exile on our homeworld began.’
‘And so you started the first steps along the road to ultimate betrayal of your primarch and your Legion,’ sighed Boreas. ‘With that simple act of disobedience you condemned the Dark Angels to a legacy of fear and secrecy. It was not the Lion who created that grim future, it was your lack of faith in him, your own rebellious nature and jealousy.’
‘That road had been laid down for me ever since Lion El’Jonson had been discovered in the woods of Caliban by Luther,’ argued Astelan. ‘It was the coming of the primarchs that nearly destroyed the Imperium, and I do not mean just those who turned during the Horus Heresy. At the start of the Great Crusade it had been just us, the Space Marines, and the Emperor as one. But when the primarchs took command of the Legions, another force became involved. Their individual pride, their honour, their ambitions and their traditions cluttered the clarity of the Emperor’s vision. It was from that moment that the Imperium was doomed to fall once more.’
‘And yet the Imperium still prevails, ten thousand years later. Despite what you say, we are still here.’ Boreas pointed out, looking pointedly around the cell.
‘But the Great Crusade is a legend, a distant memory. It was never meant to be that, it was never an event, it was a state of mind. It was the primarchs who gave the power to weak, fallible humans after the Horus Heresy. Not from ill intent, but from ignorance. Humans were never supposed to control their own destiny, they are incapable of doing so. What has become of the Imperium? It has become a labyrinth of organisations and politics, bickering Imperial commanders, and is run by intermediaries, not leaders. The Space Marine Legions were broken down into Chapters, and the Imperial Guard that had risen up in our wake had its ships taken from it and the Imperial Navy was created.
‘Even now, I sit in this cell condemned because of the same fear. It is the fear of great men, the love of mediocrity, that the Imperium thrives upon. Humans, and the primarchs who became their puppets, have condemned themselves and us to a slow, lingering death. The Dark Angels fear the humans they protected. Is it not a strange irony that the sacrifice that I made has led to ten thousand years of skulking in the dark? That the bright stars in the firmament of battle have become shadows, afraid to show themselves for what they are, afraid of themselves for what they know lies within them. Ignore my words if you will, but when the time comes, look inside yourself, feel the spirit of the Lion within you. The taint is there. I will say it once more so that you might remember it. There was a darkness within Lion El’Jonson. A darkness you all carry within you. It surrounds you, yet you are blind to its presence. Intrigue, secrets, lies and mystery. These are the legacy of your primarch.’
Boreas did not reply but stood there for a long while in contemplation. Finally, he looked back at Astelan, but said nothing. With a barely perceptible nod, he turned and walked towards the door. Swinging it open, he stopped, his head turned to one side.
‘Am I done, Grand Master?’ he asked, and Astelan was confused.
‘You have done well, Brother-Chaplain,’ a deep voice said from behind Astelan. ‘You have earned yourself a black pearl for your rosarius. I will deal with this traitor myself.’
Astelan looked around, but at first could see nothing. He heard the door clang shut and the cell was dark again. A movement caught his eye, and he looked more closely in that direction. From the shadows a skull emerged, and he saw that it was the mask of a man swathed in a robe of blackness. The man stepped forward into the dull light of the brazier. Astelan recognised him as the other Space Marine who had been in the chamber when he had first been brought here.
‘You have heard everything, you have been here all this time?’ he gasped in disbelief. ‘Who are you?’
‘I am Sapphon, Grand Master of Chaplains, the Finder of Secrets,’ the man told him, his voice slow and deliberate. ‘I have indeed been here all along. A simple trick, to misdirect your eyes, to focus your attention on other things and not my presence.’
‘What will you do with me?’ Astelan asked.
Sapphon pointed over Astelan’s shoulder, saying nothing. The door opened and two more figures wearing skull masks and black robes entered. They grabbed Astelan with gauntleted hands. He struggled vainly but he was powerless to resist, his strength sapped by days of torture. They dragged him to the door until Sapphon raised his hand and they stopped.
‘You will be taken to the deepest recesses of the Rock, and there you shall stay, tended to by the best of our Apothecaries,’ said the Grand Master in his deep voice. ‘There will be no repentance, there will be no end, swift or otherwise. There you will hear the cries of the Betrayer, and you will come to understand what it is that you have done.’
‘Luther, Luther is here?’ Astelan said, his thoughts whirling. ‘How? Why? Did he not die at the hands of the Lion on Caliban?’
‘He did not,’ Sapphon told him. ‘He is ours, held in the deepest cell of this rock. As his cries for forgiveness echo in your ears, you will learn to beg for mercy as well.’
‘I do not understand,’ Astelan pleaded.
‘You are fond of the sayings of the Imperium,’ Sapphon replied with a gesture to the Space Marines holding his prisoner. ‘You said they have deeper meaning than many give them credit for. I too understand the wisdom that lies behind the proverbs and curses of the common folk.’
Astelan nodded. He heard Sapphon’s voice as the guards pulled him out of the cell and closed the door.
‘Knowledge is power, guard it well,’ the Grand Master’s voice called after him.
THE TALE OF BOREAS
PART FIVE
With the Blade of Caliban’s reactor at dangerously high levels, it was still a twelve-day journey back to Piscina IV. As soon as the Space Marines were back on board, the ship got under way. Boreas headed directly for the chapel and sealed the door behind him. For ten days he remained there.
Sustained only by the support systems of his armour, the Interrogator-Chaplain knelt unmoving in silent vigil before the altar. If anyone had been there to see him, they might have taken for a statue. But for all his physical immobility, the Interrogator-Chaplain’s brain was in a feverish storm. He tried to quiet his tumultuous thoughts with prayers and chants, reciting every hymnal and catechism he knew for hours on end, but to no avail. Despair turned to anger, anger turned to fear, and fear turned back to despair in the whirlwind of his mind.
He searched desperately for reason and calm, but madness crept into his thoughts, battering his conscience, ripping at his pride, fuelling his guilt. Shame burned within him as he thought how rash and foolish he had been. Remorse tortured him until he mentally lashed out, cursing the Grand Masters for their secrecy, damning Hephaestus for his mistrust. Most of all, he was wracked by the futility of his situation. He was helpless, and his emotions, for so long kept in check by iron discipline and training, drifted and raged.
He prayed fervently for guidance, for some sign of what to do, but there were no answers, no revelations. And always the feeling of betrayal rose up in his thoughts. Betrayal by those he served, and betrayal by those he served alongside. Mocking laughter taunted him, and he began to hallucinate, seeing apparitions of a barren Piscina, the ground littered with millions of bones. Contorted, grinning faces swathed in shadow filled his vision, cackling at his ignorance.
Most painful of all was the thought that he had lost. The Fallen had led him by the nose all the way, teasing him onwards, luring him from Piscina. Worse, he felt they had corrupted him spiritually as well as fooling him. He had abandoned his sworn duty to protect Piscina and its inhabitants. They had set him against forces loyal to the Emperor. The sheer scale of what they had done confounded understanding. It had all been an illusion, an elaborate shadow play to pull him further and further from their true purpose.
It seemed so obvious to him now that the riots had been engineered by the Fallen to attract his attention. There had been no mutilated Navigator, it was all a pretext. How long had the agents of the Fallen been manipulating the citizens of Kadillus Harbour, planting the seeds of their lies, scheming in the heart of the realm Boreas had sworn to defend? They would have known he would eventually hear about the Saint Carthen’s presence. From then on, their complex plot was set in motion. The Fallen Angels had pitilessly sacrificed their followers to further their plan, knowing that the Dark Angels would be merciless in their hunt. They had left just enough information for him to follow the trail to a false base, to draw him far from where he needed to be.
The most damning part of the plot was its sheer audacity. In his moments of lucidity, Boreas pieced it together, and it was these deductions that caused him to despair of saving Piscina IV from the horrific fate the Fallen had planned. And if Piscina IV fell, then Piscina V would doubtless be the next target. When the Saint Carthen had arrived and set in motion the chain of events that had drawn Boreas away, the Fallen had been there, dropped on Piscina. The more he chased the ship, the greater the distance between him and his real quarry. It was a calculated and cruel irony, inspired to cause him the greatest torment. Like puppeteers, his enemies had manipulated him at every turn and had plotted for this moment. Not content with destroying the world under his protection, they had done it in such a way as to damn his soul in the process.
