Galaxy in Flames (7 page)

‘Are we to assume that the Truth didn’t take?’ asked Eidolon.

‘Mortarion?’ prompted Horus, gesturing to his brother primarch.

‘Four months ago the Death Guard received a distress signal from Isstvan III,’ said Mortarion. ‘It was weak and old. We only received it because one of our supply ships joining the fleet at Arcturan dropped out of the warp for repairs. Given the age of the signal and the time it took for it to be relayed to my command, it is likely that it was sent at least two years ago.’

‘What did it say?’ asked Angron.

In reply, the holographic image of the globe unfolded into a large flat pane, like a pict-screen hovering in the air, black, with just a hint of shadowy movement. A shape moved on the screen and Loken realized it was a face – a woman’s face, orange-lit by a candle flame that provided the only light. She appeared to be in a small, stone walled chamber. Even over the poor quality of the signal, Loken could tell that the woman was terrified, her eyes wide and her breathing rapid and shallow. She gleamed with sweat.

‘The insignia on her collar,’ said Torgaddon, ‘is from the 27th Expedition.’

The woman adjusted the device she was using to record the image and sound flooded into the Lupercal’s Court: crackling flames, distant yelling and gunfire.

‘It’s revolution,’ said the woman, her voice warped by static. ‘Open revolt. These people, they have… rejected… they’ve rejected it all. We tried to integrate them, we thought the Warsingers were just some primitive… superstition, but it was much more, it was real. Praal has gone mad and the Warsingers are with him.’

The woman suddenly looked around at something off-screen.

‘No!’ she screamed desperately and opened fire with a weapon previously held out of view. Violent muzzle flashes lit her and something indescribable flailed against the far wall as she emptied her weapon into it. ‘They’re closer. They know we’re here and… I think I’m the last one.’

The woman turned back to the screen. ‘It’s madness, complete madness down here. Please, I don’t think I’m going to get through this. Send someone, anyone, just… make this stop—’

A hideous, atonal keening sound blared from the pict screen. The woman grabbed her head, her screams drowned by the inhuman sound. The last frames jerked and fragmented, freeze framing through a series of gruesome images: blood in the woman’s frenzied eye, a swirling mass of flesh and shattered bone, and a mouth locked open, blood on teeth.

Then blackness.

‘There have been no further communications from Isstvan III,’ concluded Mortarion, filling the silence that followed. ‘The planet’s astropaths have either been compromised or they are dead.’

‘The name “Praal” refers to Vardus Praal,’ said Horus, ‘the governor left behind to command Isstvan III in the name of the Imperium, ensure compliance and manage the dismantling of the traditional religious structures that defined the planet’s autochthonous society. If he is complicit in the rebellion on Isstvan III, as this recording suggests, then he is one of our objectives.’

Loken felt a shiver travel down his spine at the thought of once again facing a population whose Imperial official had turned traitor. He glanced over at Torgaddon and saw that the similarities with the Davin campaign were not lost on his comrade.

The holo swelled and returned to the image of Isstvan III. ‘The cultural and religious capital of Isstvan is here,’ said Horus as the image zoomed in on one of the northern cities, which commanded a large hinterland at the foot of a colossal range of mountains.

‘The Choral City. This is the source of the distress signal and the seat of Praal’s command, a building known as the Precentor’s Palace. Multiple speartips will seize a number of strategic objectives, and with the city in our hands, Isstvan will be ours. The first assault will be a combined force made up of Astartes from all Legions with backup from the Titans of the Mechanicum and the Imperial Army. The rest of the planet will then be subjugated by whichever Imperial Army reinforcements can reach us with the warp in its current state.’

‘Why not just bombard them?’ asked Eidolon. The sudden silence that followed his question was deafening.

Loken waited for the Warmaster to reprimand Eidolon for daring to question one of his decisions, but Horus only nodded indulgently. ‘Because these people are vermin, and when you stamp out vermin from afar, some invariably survive. If we are to cut out the problem, we must get our hands dirty and destroy them in one fell swoop. It may not be as elegant as the Emperor’s Children would wish, but elegance is not a priority for me, only swift victory.’

‘Of course,’ said Eidolon, shaking his head. ‘To think that these fools should be so blind to the realities of the galaxy.’

‘Have no fear, lord commander,’ said Abaddon, descending to stand beside the Warmaster, ‘they will be illuminated as to the error of their ways.’

Loken risked a sidelong glance at the first captain, surprised at the respect he heard in his voice. All the previous dealings between the Sons of Horus and Eidolon had led him to believe that Abaddon held the arrogant lord commander in contempt.

What had changed?

‘Mortarion,’ continued Horus. ‘Your objective will be to engage the main force of the Choral City’s army. If they are anything like they were when the Raven Guard fought them, they will be professional soldiers and will not break easily, even when confronted with Astartes.’

The holo zoomed in to show a map of the Choral City, a handsome conurbation with many and varied buildings that ranged from exquisite mansions and basilica to massive sprawls of housing and tangles of industrial complexes. Artfully formed boulevards and thoroughfares threaded a multi-levelled city of millions, most of whom appeared to be housed in sprawling residential districts, workshops and factories.

The western edge of the city was highlighted, focusing on the scar-like web of defensive trenches and bunkers along the city’s outskirts. The opposite side of the Choral City butted up against the sheer cliffs of a mountain range – the natural defences efficiently shielding the city from a conventional land attack.

Unfortunately for the Choral City, the Warmaster clearly wasn’t planning a conventional land attack. ‘It appears that a sizeable armed force is manning these defences,’ said Horus. ‘It looks as if they have excellent fortifications and artillery. Many of these defences were added after compliance to protect the seat of Imperial governance on Isstvan, which means they’re ours, and they will be strong. It will be ugly work engaging and destroying this force, and there is still much about the Choral City’s military we do not know.’

‘I welcome this challenge, Warmaster,’ said Mortarion. ‘This is my Legion’s natural battlefield.’

Another location lurched into focus, a spectacular conglomeration of arches and spires, with dozens of labyrinth-like wings and additions surrounding a magnificent central dome faced in polished stone The city’s crowning glory, the structure looked like a jewelled brooch set into the twisted mass of the Choral City.

‘The Precentor’s Palace,’ said Eidolon appreciatively.

‘And your Legion will take it,’ said Horus, ‘along with the World Eaters.’

Again, Loken caught Eidolon’s glance at Angron, the lord commander unable to conceal the distaste he felt at the thought of fighting alongside such a barbaric Legion. If Angron was aware of Eidolon’s scornful glance he gave no sign of it.

‘The palace is one of Praal’s most likely locations,’ said Horus. ‘Therefore, the palace is one of our most important objectives. The palace must be taken, the Choral City’s leadership destroyed, and Praal killed. He is a traitor, so I do not expect or wish him to be taken alive.’

Finally, the holo zoomed in on a curious mass of stonework some way east of the Precentor’s Palace. To Loken’s untutored eye, it looked like a collection of church spires or temples, sacred buildings heaped one on top of one another over the centuries.

‘This is the Sirenhold and my Sons of Horus will lead the attack on it,’ said Horus. ‘Choral City’s revolt appears to be religious in nature and the Sirenhold was the spiritual heart of the city. According to Corax’s reports, this was the seat of the old pagan religion that was supposed to have been dismantled. It is presumed that it still exists and that the leadership of that religion will be found here. This is another likely location for Vardus Praal, so again I do not require prisoners, only destruction.’ For the first time, Loken saw the battlefield he would soon be fighting on. The Sirenhold looked like difficult ground to take: massive, complicated structures creating a confusing multi-levelled warren with plenty of places to hide. Dangerous ground.

That was why the Warmaster had sent his own Legion to take it. He knew they could do it.

The holo zoomed out again to a view of the planet itself.

‘Preliminary operations will involve the destruction of the monitoring stations on the seventh planet of Isstvan Extremis,’ said Horus. ‘When the rebels are blind the invasion of Isstvan III will commence. The units chosen to lead the first wave will deploy by drop-pod and gunship, with a second wave ready in reserve. I trust you all understand what is required of your Legions.’

‘I only have one question, Warmaster,’ said Angron.

‘Speak,’ said Horus.

‘Why do we plan this attack with such precision when a single, massive strike will do the job just as well?’

‘You object to my plans, Angron?’ Horus asked carefully.

‘Of course I object,’ spat Angron. ‘We have four Legions, Titans and starships at our disposal, and this is just one city. We should hit it with everything we have and slaughter them in the streets. Then we will see how many on this planet have the stomach to rebel. But no, you would have us kill them one by one and pick off their leaders as if we are here to preserve this world. Rebellion is in the people, Horus. Kill the people and the rebellion ends.’

‘Lord Angron,’ said Eidolon reasonably, ‘you speak out of turn—’

‘Hold your tongue in the presence of your betters,’ snarled Angron. ‘I know what you Emperor’s Children think of us, but you mistake our directness for stupidity. Speak to me again without my consent and I will kill you.’

‘Angron!’

Horus’s voice cut through the building tension and the primarch of the World Eaters turned his murderous attention away from Eidolon.

‘You place little value on the lives of your World Eaters,’ said Horus, ‘and you believe in the way of war you have made your own, but that does not place you beyond my authority. I am the Warmaster, the commander of everyone and everything that falls under the aegis of the Great Crusade. Your Legion will deploy according to the orders I have given you. Is that clear?’

Angron nodded curtly as Horus turned to Eidolon. ‘Lord Commander Eidolon, you are not among equals here, and your presence in this war council is dependent upon my good graces, which will be rapidly worn thin should you conduct yourself as if Fulgrim was here to nursemaid you.’

Eidolon rapidly recovered his composure. ‘Of course, my Warmaster, I meant no disrespect. I shall ensure that my Legion is prepared for the assault on Isstvan Extremis and the capture of the Precentor’s Palace.’

Horus switched his gaze to Angron, who grunted in assent.

‘The World Eaters will be ready, Warmaster,’ said Kharn.

‘Then this conclave is at an end,’ said Horus. ‘Return to your Legions and make ready for war.’

The delegations filed out, Kharn speaking quietly with Angron and Eidolon adopting a swagger as if to compensate for his dressing down. Loken thought he saw a gleam of amusement in Mortarion’s eyes as he left with Garro and his Terminators in tow.

Horus turned to Abaddon and said, ‘Have a stormbird prepared to convey me to the
Conqueror
. Angron must be illuminated as to the proper conduct of this endeavor.’

Horus turned and made his way from the Lupercal’s court with Abaddon and Aximand following behind him without so much as a backwards glance at Loken and Torgaddon.

‘That was educational,’ said Torgaddon when they were alone.

Loken smiled wearily. ‘I could feel you willing Angron to strike Eidolon.’

Torgaddon laughed, remembering when he and Eidolon had almost come to blows when they had first met on the surface of Murder.

‘If only we could join the Warmaster on the
Conqueror
!’ said Torgaddon. ‘Now that would be something worth seeing. Horus illuminating Angron. What would they talk about?’

‘What indeed?’ agreed Loken. There was so much Loken didn’t know, but as he pondered his unhappy ignorance, he remembered the last thing Kyril Sindermann had shouted to him as he was led away by Maloghurst’s soldiers.

‘Tarik, we have a battle to prepare for, so I want you to get everyone ready. It’s going to be a hard fight on Isstvan III.’

‘I know,’ said Torgaddon. ‘The Sirenhold. What a bloody shambles. This is what happens when you give people a god to believe in.’

‘Get Vipus up to speed as well. If we’re attacking the Sirenhold, I want Locasta with us.’

‘Of course,’ nodded Torgaddon. ‘Sometimes I think you and Nero are the only people I can trust any more. What are you going to be doing?’

‘I have some reading to catch up on,’ said Loken.

FOUR

Sacrifice

A single moment

Keep her safe

W
HEREVER
E
REBUS WALKED
, shadows followed in his wake. Flickering whisperers were his constant companions, invisible creatures that lurked just beyond sight and ghosted in his shadow. The whisperers flitted from Erebus and gathered in the shadowed corners of the chamber, a stone-walled lodge built in the image of the temple room of the Delphos where Akshub had cut his throat.

Deep in the heart of the
Vengeful Spirit
, the lodge temple was low, close and hot, lit by a crackling fire that burned in a pit in the middle of the room. Flames threw leaping shapes across the walls. ‘My Warmaster,’ said Erebus. ‘We are prepared.’ ‘Good,’ replied the Warmaster. ‘It has cost us a great deal to reach this point, Erebus. For all our sakes it had better be worth it, but mostly for yours.’