Legends of the dark ange.., p.26
Legends Of The Dark Angels, page 26
‘Only of him,’ Boreas replied. ‘It is not your concern, continue. You said survivor?’
‘Er, yes,’ Brade said, visibly shaken. ‘The first group headed south, towards the docks, and disappeared. I don’t know where they went. My men didn’t know what to do. They contacted me by comm to ask for orders, and that’s when the others came out. They opened fire immediately, I heard Lieutenant Thene screaming over the comm, and bolter fire. One of the officers, Lieutenant Straven, ran immediately. He was the only one who got away, the others were cut down where they stood.’
‘And then?’ Boreas prompted Brade, who had lapsed into deep thought.
‘Then they started the massacre,’ the colonel said with a grimace. ‘They advanced into the city, killing anyone in their path, destroying ground cars, tossing grenades into buildings. It was carnage. We didn’t know what to do, and by the time a platoon arrived, they were nowhere to be found. But it was too late by then. Panic began to spread, the word got out that the Dark Angels had turned on us. I didn’t believe it, but then everything descended into anarchy. There were riots everywhere, half my own men joined in, under the pretence of hunting the Space Marines down. After that, it just got worse and worse.’
‘And the situation now?’ Boreas asked.
‘You saw for yourself, I’m sure,’ Brade said bitterly. ‘The entire city is in revolt, but the Imperial commander is safe, we have tanks stationed at all the roads leading to the palaces. Northport is in ruins, no ship can leave or land, and the docks are little more than rubble.’
‘I must attend to urgent matters at the keep,’ Boreas said. Motioning the squad to follow, Boreas began to march towards the gatehouse of the keep. He had only taken a few paces when he turned back to look at Brade.
‘Thank you for trusting in us,’ Boreas said.
‘I had to keep my trust in you,’ the colonel replied, leaning back against the armoured carrier. ‘I had to believe that you had not betrayed us. The alternative is too terrible to contemplate.’
‘Yes it is, colonel,’ Boreas agreed quietly. ‘Hold the perimeter here for as long as you can, I shall contact you again shortly.’
The main gate into the citadel was sealed shut. Pressing the entry combination, the door slid aside and the Space Marines entered, weapons ready. As they stepped inside, the door hissed back into position behind them.
Three bodies lay in pools of blood in the entrance hall, the red-robed gatekeepers whose duty it had been to receive delegations from the Imperial commander. Examining them, Nestor pointed at the deep knife wounds across their chests and throats. The unarmed men had been butchered, probably as they had welcomed their unexpected visitors.
As they progressed, they found more evidence of cold-blooded murder. Attendants, scribes and logisticians lay at or near their work stations, also brutally slashed and stabbed. Working their way up the tower, they found bodies on the stairs and in the hallways. With trepidation, Boreas followed Damas into the aspirants’ chambers.
The veteran sergeant gave a howl of anguish and ran forward. The bodies of the youths were draped across their cots, sprawled on the floor and slumped against the walls. Damas checked each in turn, and when he got to the last he shook his head slowly.
‘Their necks have been snapped,’ he stated flatly, the corpses reflected in the red lenses of his helmet. He lifted up the hands of the boy at his feet, the youth called Varsin. His knuckles were bloodied and broken. ‘They tried to fight, as I taught them. It would have been futile.’
‘They died bravely,’ said Zaul. ‘They died fighting for the Emperor.’
‘No!’ Damas snarled. ‘There was no bravery here, just desperation! Pointless, senseless slaughter. This served no purpose. None of this killing did. They were defenceless, all of them.’
There was a point, but Boreas chose not to share it with his distraught brethren. It was the final insult, the final challenge to the might of the Dark Angels. It was a statement of intent, as clear to Boreas as if it were written in blood on the walls – the Dark Angels had no future.
‘We must check the vault,’ Nestor said suddenly.
‘The annihilus is obviously not active,’ Hephaestus pointed out. ‘If it were, there would be nothing left alive on the island.’
‘They may have tampered with it,’ the Apothecary insisted.
‘Very well,’ Boreas agreed. ‘Nestor and Hephaestus with me. Zaul, Thumiel, check the upper storeys and the roof. Damas, go to the vehicle bay and ready the Rhino for combat.’
As he walked down the stairs, Boreas felt drained and empty. The Fallen had done more than simply kill the servants of the Chapter. By attacking here, in the Dark Angels’ own outpost, they had driven a blade into the heart of the Chapter.
They passed signs of sporadic fighting as they travelled through the keep: bullet holes in the wall, a ragged corpse draped down the stairwell, trails of dried blood on the floor.
When they entered the vaults, stepping over the bodies of three serfs who had tried to defend the entrance, Nestor carried on past the operations chamber, deeper into the tunnels. Ahead, an armoured door hung open, twisted off its heavy hinges, the locking bolts ripped aside. Nestor dashed forward into the small chamber beyond. A few moments later he reappeared, and leant heavily against the wall.
‘They have taken it,’ moaned the Apothecary.
‘Taken what?’ demanded Boreas. He knew of the Apothecary’s storage crypt and assumed it contained rare or possibly volatile medical supplies.
‘The gene-seed, they have taken the sacred gene-seed,’ Nestor replied, his voice a hoarse whisper.
‘Gene-seed?’ Boreas was confused. Then the realisation struck him and his anger welled up. ‘More secrets! More lies and half-truths!’
‘It was for the security of the Chapter, Boreas,’ Nestor said, hanging his head. ‘It would be folly for all of our gene-seed to be carried in the Tower of Angels. What if the unthinkable happened? What if the Rock were lost? Destroyed in the warp, perhaps? After we survived the loss of Caliban the Lion wanted to ensure the Chapter would always endure. It was decided that some of the gene-seed would be sent to distant outposts, hidden away, its location known to only a select few.’
‘What do you know about Caliban?’ demanded Boreas. ‘What else have you kept from me?’
‘Boreas, Brother-Chaplain…’ Nestor’s voice was tainted with a harsh laugh, edged with insanity. ‘I am six hundred and seventeen years old, did you really think that after all this time I would not be a member of the Inner Circle? That’s why a veteran like myself is here, on this forsaken outpost. To protect the future, to guard the gene-seed.’
The words of Astelan sprang into Boreas’s mind: 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. They shrouded the Dark Angels Chapter, a veil of darkness they had woven around outsiders and themselves.
‘We must recover the gene-seed at all costs,’ Nestor insisted, having recovered from the shock, walking between Boreas and Hephaestus. The Techmarine was standing rigidly still, stunned by the turn of events. As Nestor pushed past, he seemed to snap out of it.
‘First we must check the annihilus is intact,’ the Techmarine said, looking at Boreas.
‘Where?’ the Interrogator-Chaplain asked.
‘The main control chamber, I can access it from there,’ Hephaestus replied, following Nestor down the dimly lit tunnel.
Entering the control chamber, Hephaestus crossed to the central platform and activated one of the central interfaces. Around him, screens flickered into life, bathing the room in an erratic green glow, and the needles of gauges monitoring the keep’s power systems wavered in their glasses. On one screen to Boreas’s left, the Chaplain saw a view of the courtyard outside, and watched as rebels surged forwards against the line of Imperial Guard, some mercilessly cut down by volleys of fire, others battering their way through with fists and rocks. Tearing his attention away, Boreas watched as Hephaestus’s fingers danced over a runepad.
‘Hurry! Every moment wasted takes the Fallen and the gene-seed further out of out reach,’ Nestor snapped from just outside the doorway.
Meaningless numerals, letters and symbols scrolled up the screen as Hephaestus worked. The screen then went blank for a few seconds before an empty white box appeared at its centre.
‘Authority cipher,’ explained the Techmarine as he entered a sequence of runes. The screen went blank again for a few more seconds before a message appeared.
CIPHER ACCEPTED – ANNIHILUS VIRAL FAILSAFE ACTIVATED+
‘Something is wrong,’ the Techmarine warned, stabbing at keys without response.
‘What’s happening? Tell me what this means!’ demanded Boreas, staring at the words on the display.
Hephaestus ignored the Chaplain as he continued to desperately punch in security protocols and override commands. Stepping back, he smashed his fist into the screen, sending shards of glass spinning through the air.
‘Hephaestus, tell me what’s happening!’ Boreas yelled, dragging the Techmarine around to face him.
‘One last trick,’ muttered Hephaestus. He looked back at the shattered screen and then at Boreas. ‘They broke into the core machine spirit and gave it new commands. As soon as I accessed the annihilus, it was primed to activate.’
‘Can’t you stop it?’ asked Nestor, taking a pace into the room.
‘No, it’s impossible, there’s no delay,’ Hephaestus told them. ‘Activation is immediate. The annihilus was always intended to be a last resort. Why take the risk of it being deactivated during a countdown?’
‘You mean the virus is spreading even now?’ asked Boreas, looking around him as if he might see the deadly toxin flooding the air.
‘Yes,’ the Techmarine answered, slumping against the console. ‘We failed.’
‘What happens next?’ Nestor asked. ‘What type of virus is it?’
‘Omniphagic,’ replied Hephaestus heavily. ‘It will devour all living matter. It can be airborne or waterborne, and will pass by contact. Kadillus Harbour will be infected within two hours of release, the island within half a day. After that it depends on wind strength and the currents, but the virus will wipe out every living creature, destroy every organic cell on the planet, within five days. As it spreads it grows more virulent, in a cyclical effect that will strip the planet bare. Even bones will be destroyed. Were it not for our armour and helmets, we would already be dead. We have failed.’
‘Not wholly,’ Nestor said, causing Boreas and Hephaestus to look up sharply. Hope flared within the Interrogator-Chaplain. ‘We can still retrieve the gene-seed.’
‘Zaul, Damas, Thumiel, assemble in the entrance chamber!’ commanded Boreas, striding off the control dais. The other two fell in behind him. As he walked, he explained the situation to those who had not been present.
‘Why would they do such a thing?’ Zaul asked over the comm-net. ‘What is the point?’
‘I cannot say for sure, but I think it is a message,’ Boreas told them. ‘They want our brethren to know what happened here, but for what twisted reason I cannot fathom.’
‘Why risk us not activating it?’ Hephaestus wondered. ‘To tie the activation in with the override seems a foolish thing to do.’
‘The prisoner Boreas questioned in their base spoke of dissent,’ Nestor recalled. ‘Perhaps some of them did not agree, perhaps they were only after the gene-seed. The others might not have had the opportunity to properly set the annihilus and so had to resort to deception.’
‘Or they just wanted to ensure they were clear of the planet before the virus was released,’ suggested Damas. ‘It would seem likely for such a cowardly act.’
‘It matters not,’ growled Boreas. ‘When we take them, they shall tell us everything! I will personally see to that.’
Damas was the last to arrive in the entrance chamber, and fell in beside Boreas, who stood facing the sealed door.
‘We must get back to the Thunderhawk. Kill if necessary,’ the Chaplain told his squad. ‘The Fallen will not escape us; I will hunt them under every rock and across every kilometre of space. For what they have done today, I will inflict pain upon them never before envisaged. I will make them live for a year and a day in agony as justice for their crimes.’
He took a step towards the door, and then stopped suddenly.
‘Brother-chaplain?’ Nestor inquired. ‘Is there something wrong.’
‘Hephaestus, tell me, where is the virus stored?’ Boreas asked, turning to the Techmarine.
‘In the lowest vault,’ he answered. ‘Of what relevance is that?’
‘The first aim of the virus is to cleanse the keep of intruders, correct?’ Boreas continued his chain of thought.
‘Yes, the virus is released internally first, before spreading to the rest of the city,’ Hephaestus confirmed.
‘And how does it spread?’ Boreas asked.
‘Simple, if the keep has been breached or has been taken, there will be any number of ways for it to pass into the…’ Hephaestus’s voice trailed off as he followed Boreas’s gaze towards the armoured entry portal. ‘There has been no attack, no breach…’
‘The tower is completely sealed,’ Boreas said, looking at each of the others. ‘As protection from gas or viral attack from outside, the keep is airtight. Until we break that seal, the virus is confined to the interior.’
‘But as soon as we leave, the seal is broken,’ said Nestor. ‘I do not understand.’
‘We will not be leaving,’ Damas explained slowly.
‘But the Fallen, the gene-seed–’ Nestor protested bitterly. ‘Piscina is already doomed. Although the circumstances of its activation may have been unorthodox, the virus bomb’s purpose remains the same. Kadillus is in the grip of revolt, and the orks are attacking in overwhelming numbers. The planet is already lost. We shall simply be hastening its demise. The virus will cleanse the world as it was supposed to, denying it to the enemies of the Emperor.’
‘No,’ Boreas answered flatly.
‘No?’ roared Nestor. ‘You would abandon the hope of our Chapter’s future for a world already in flames, on the brink of destruction? You would sacrifice that for a dying world?’
‘A world we swore to protect,’ Boreas reminded him. ‘A sacred oath to lay down our lives and guard it by whatever means necessary.’
‘Piscina is lost!’ declared the Apothecary. ‘If the rebellion does not destroy this world, the orks will overrun it! There is nothing left to save, Boreas!’
‘We are not leaving,’ Boreas said stubbornly, recalling his arguments with Astelan. ‘We live to serve the Emperor and mankind, not the Dark Angels.’
‘This is heresy,’ Nestor barked. ‘Are you renouncing your oaths of allegiance?’
‘No, I am remembering them,’ Boreas snapped. ‘We swore to protect Piscina, and that is what we will do. It matters not if the price is our lives, or even the sacred gene-seed; this duty overrides all others.’
‘I cannot let you do this,’ Nestor said, taking a step towards the door. ‘My duty, my oath, was to protect that gene-seed.’
Boreas grabbed the plasma pistol from Hephaestus’s belt and thumbed the activation switch. It began to hum and vibrate in his grip as it charged up.
‘You will not open that door, Brother-Apothecary,’ warned Boreas, pointing the pistol at Nestor’s head.
‘What treachery is this?’ Nestor’s voice, even distorted through his suit, dripped with scorn. ‘You would kill your own brethren rather than continue the great quest of our Chapter? You, a Chaplain, guardian of our traditions and guide to our souls, would rather kill me than atone for a sin ten thousand years old? I think not.’
Nestor took three more steps and reached towards the portal runepad. Boreas pulled the trigger and a ball of superheated plasma smashed into the Apothecary, exploding on impact. His headless torso, the stump of his neck cauterised and smoking, pitched forward and slumped against the gate.
‘None of us are leaving,’ Boreas said, handing the pistol back to Hephaestus.
‘You do realise that if we do not leave, we will die here,’ the Techmarine told them. ‘The virus can stay active for up to seventy days once released. That is over twenty days longer than the environmental systems in our armour can sustain us.’
‘I will obey your command, Brother-Chaplain,’ Zaul said. ‘If it is to die here, then so be it.’
‘You are to achieve orbit of Piscina V, and guard against any intrusion.’ Boreas stood in the control room, at the comms station, instructing Sen Naziel. ‘Nothing is to land, nothing. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, Lord Boreas,’ the ship’s officer replied.
‘I will shortly transmit a coded message,’ Boreas continued. ‘When the Tower of Angels arrives, it is to be passed on to Grand Master-Chaplain Sapphon. No blame will be attached to you or the crew for the events and our actions of these last weeks. I commend you for your dedication to the Chapter, and your perseverance in the pursuit of your duties.’
‘And when will you be joining us again?’ Naziel asked. Boreas paused, unsure what to say.
‘We will not be joining you,’ he said eventually. ‘These are my final commands. The Grand Masters will inform you of your future.’
‘I don’t understand, my lord.’ The confusion was evident in Neziel’s voice.
‘You do not have to understand, merely obey your orders, Sen,’ Boreas told him. ‘Honour the Chapter. Venerate the Emperor. Praise the Lion.’
‘Praise the Lion,’ Naziel echoed and Boreas switched off the link. Turning his attention to the data log, he activated the recorder.
‘This is Interrogator-Chaplain Boreas of the Emperor’s Dark Angels Chapter,’ he began. ‘This is my final communication from Piscina, as commander of the Dark Angels in the system. Our ancient foes have struck a blow against our Chapter. The reviled enemy has wounded us severely. We are entangled in a plot that goes beyond our comprehension. The events I am about to relate stretch beyond this world, beyond the furthest reaches of this star system. Great and dark powers are at work, I see their hand manipulating us, bending us to their twisted goals.’
