Series I - Von Guyen
Episode I - Knowledge and Faith
Aside from the legendary Ultramarines, there is no more rightly feared Chapter active in the Sagittarius Arm than their close allies the White Knights. Indeed, the two Chapters have a long history of cooperation and intelligence sharing. The Knights' colours, white edged with blue, are the Ultramarines' in reverse. They revere Primarch Guilliman and lead their own planetary empire centred on the world of Russala. But despite this, the two differ in a few crucial ways. In the place of the Codex Imperialis, the Knights have the Lexicon. And rather than content themselves with ruling, they see themselves as protectors of the weak and the downtrodden, wherever they may be. That generous spirit has brought them to the planet Ulis, the latest frontline in their perennial battle against the Tau Empire.
They called him the Executioner. Sometimes, the more daring among their number would venture to use his real name. Samovar von Guyen, they said. The people of Ulis whispered that he used to be a servant of the Emperor, that he was an Inquisitor who had strayed from the righteous path and joined forces with the Tau scum. But whatever they said, they all agreed on one thing: crossing him was a death sentence.
Arin Sarox didn't care about rumours. All he cared about was making it to the next sunrise. His feet pounded on the cracked cobbles of the alley as he ran. Ahead of him, in the building that had once hosted Fastunhive's law courts, an autogun battery spat vicious curtains of shimmering lead into the windows of the administrative quarter. Behind them flitted orange-armoured figures, darting occasionally into the open to lay down a few hopeful shots with their pulse rifles.
"Emperor protect me," Arin begged.
With a harsh whistle, a plasma shell slammed down behind him. The shockwave from the blast picked him up and carried him a few metres. He landed in a limp heap next to the building.
"Hey!" came a shout from ahead. "You there! Over here!"
Arin rolled weakly onto his side. He could feel blood oozing from shrapnel wounds in his back.
Just round the corner, leaning from a shattered hole in the wall, was an Imperial Guardsman. The markings on his combat armour identified him as a man of the 21st Ulian Infantry.
With all his strength, Arin began to crawl.
The soldier ducked out and squeezed off a few rounds from his las-rifle before a searing bolt of blue struck him on the neck. He fell to the ground in a growing pool of blood, clutching at the gaping wound as his life drained away.
Arin stared, horrified, while the man's face paled and his features set in a grimace of agony. Then he was on his feet and running again. He made for the first refuge he saw. There was a pair of grand arched doors ahead of him and he stumbled towards them. In his desperation, not even the tapering stone spire over the entrance had given it away. He was standing in the calm, hallowed interior of a basilica. Statues glared down at him from high plinths. The explosions that lit the night sky were reflected inside the nave as throbs of bright, multicoloured light through the stained-glass windows.
The Emperor Himself stood over the altar at the far end, face raised to the stars, sword held out before Him to rally His troops. Thick stone locks of hair flowed out behind Him.
"Oh mighty one," Arin prayed, falling to his knees and clasping his hands together, "Hear this plea. Protect me from the storm and the tempest. Protect me from heresy and fear. Light my path and hide my steps. This I pray."
A heavy footstep came from behind the statue.
Arin's heart missed a beat. He scrambled to his feet.
"Who's there?" he cried, his voice cracking with fear.
"You know, I can quote things too," the darkness maliciously replied. "Shall we take turns?"
"Show yourself!" Arin demanded. "Where are you?"
"They shall be my finest warriors," the voice said, "These men who give of themselves to me. Like clay I shall mould them, and in the furnace of war forge them. They will be of iron will and steely muscle. In great armour I shall . . ."
Arin made a run for the doors, almost tripping over his own feet as he went.
"Oh, don't run," the voice said. "If you run, I'll just have to shoot you. Don't you want to hear the end of the quote?"
His skin crawling, Arin turned back.
There was no-one there, just a disembodied voice.
"In great armour shall I clad them and with the mightiest guns they will be armed," it went on. "They will be untouched by plague or disease, no sickness will blight them. They will have tactics, strategies and machines so that no foe can best them in battle. They are my bulwark against the Terror. They are the Defenders of Humanity. They are my Space Marines and they shall know no fear."
Samovar von Guyen, the Executioner, strolled nonchalantly into the light. He was tall and thin, wearing a golden hood and orange robes like those of the Tau he called his allies. A scar was drawn across his neck and a pistol was held in his bony white hand.
"Except," he said, "They will fear me."
Arin stood rooted to the spot in fear as Samovar walked up to him.
"Do you fear me?" Samovar asked.
There were no words in Arin's mind, just abject terror.
"So disappointing," Samovar tutted, and raised the pistol.
There was a deafening crack and Arin's vision turned pure white. He heard a thud and wondered if it was his own body hitting the floor. In that moment, he didn't know if he had lived or died, if the world was real or if he had slipped into the afterlife.
An arm landed on his own and pulled him away. Next thing he knew he was being carried bodily across the nave. There came the sound of a heavy door closing and a bolt being slid home.
"Now," a stern voice said. "Get up."
Arin blinked quickly and his vision began to clear once more. He was lying on the floor of an anteroom, next to an antique wooden desk. The room was quiet and dusty, its windows rattling now and then as shells came down outside.
Seven feet of Space Marine stood over him. His adamantium armour was painted the purest of whites, edged with regal blue on the shoulderpads and the knees. A golden chalice symbol shone from his breastplate. Resting on the brow of his shining helmet was a crown of laurels and held in his hands was a thunder hammer. Lightning crackled and fizzed around its head.
"I know you," Arin realised. "You're the Chapter Master. Sanctus . . ."
"Sanctus Grimfist," he replied, from behind the imposing grille. "I think we are on first name terms now, do you not?"
"You saved me," Arin said. "Thank you for . . ."
Grimfist drew a thick finger across the padding around his throat.
"He is still out there," he whispered, as quietly as his voice magnifiers would allow.
Arin froze. He'd naively assumed they were safe.
Heavy footsteps echoed through the nave. The door creaked in its frame. The footsteps paused for a moment, then resumed, fading into silence.
"Alright," Grimfist said. "He is gone. But I am sure he will be back."
Arin pulled himself up.
"You sound like you know him," he said, dusting himself down.
"He used to be an ally of ours," Grimfist said, cryptically. "That was a long time ago."
He reached up with one hand and removed his helmet with the clunk of a heavy-duty unlocking mechanism. Beneath it was a rugged, blemished face, sporting a bionic right eye and a metal plate in place of a forehead. Unkempt grey hair fell down around it, braided with golden hoops emblazoned with the same chalice symbol as the huge suit of power armour. There was an augmetic implant shining in his right cheek. He fidgeted briefly with it and it gave a bleep.
"Are you okay?" Arin said, hesitantly.
"Control is a tricky thing these days," Grimfist remarked. "That is how he operates, along with the rest of his kind. He thinks he is in control. But he is wrong."
"I don't understand," Arin admitted.
"The Tau have wormed their way into Samovar's brain," Grimfist explained. "And deluded him into thinking he commands them. Of course, nothing could be further from the truth. They use him because they believe it will intimidate us." He looked down at Arin. "Tell me . . . do you fear it?"
"What?" Arin said. "The Tau?"
"No," Grimfist said. "The one they call the Executioner."
Arin paled at the thought.
"Of course I do," he said.
Armoured joints whirred, clicked and ground together as Grimfist shrugged.
"Well," he said, "I suppose you are only human."
He crossed to the door and kicked it open. The force took it clean off its hinges and it came to rest against the altar, bent double over itself.
"Stay here," Grimfist ordered Arin. "You will be safe."
"Where are you going?" Arin hissed.
"I am not done here," Grimfist said. "Knowledge and faith."
Arin stared at him, dumbstruck at the honour he had just been afforded. A few minutes ago he was running for his life and now he had the chance to recant a Space Marine Chapter motto to its Master.
"Knowledge and faith," he said, breathlessly.
Grimfist strode out into the nave.
Samovar was waiting for him. He was standing in the multicoloured shade of the stained-glass window over the entrance. Seeing Grimfist, he raised his Tau pulse pistol and emptied the energy cell. The bolts of blue plasma ricocheted off the Astarte's armour and up into the rafters, sending dust pouring down onto the blasted pews.
"How fitting that I should find you here, Samovar," Grimfist said. "Of all places."
"Sanctus," Samovar purred. "Whatever do you mean by that?"
Grimfist glanced back at the statue of the Emperor behind him.
"Such is the fate of all the Imperium's enemies," he declared. "I made a promise to bring you to justice, and I intend to keep it. This war ends now."
"This war has barely begun," Samovar spat. "I've seen the light, Sanctus. The Greater Good is more than either of us – it's more than both of us. We must join with them, or face annihilation."
He flexed his fingers and reached down to his belt. There was a click as he unclasped the equalizer his xenos commanders had bestowed upon him. With the press of a button the weapon telescoped outwards to its full length. It was a beautiful thing, long and slender with jewelled bulbs at each end. Samovar whirled it round expertly.
Grimfist flicked his thunder hammer to maximum power.
"We trusted you," he said, resentfully.
"And that just proves it," Samovar scoffed. "You were always beyond saving."
Grimfist charged at him.
He raised his weapon in defence.
The equalizer's disruption field immediately absorbed the crackling energy of the thunder hammer and discharged it in an immense flash of light and noise. Both weapons shattered into a million pieces. A shockwave swept along the nave, breaking windows, shredding banners and snuffing out candles. Both of them were lifted off their feet and sent flying away from each other.
Samovar smashed through the stained-glass window and sailed clean across the square beyond.
Silence fell. Wind whipped through the ruined nave. The church, which for so long had escaped the destruction, had become the latest casualty of the war for Fastunhive.
Arin cautiously stuck his head out of the anteroom and looked around. There was no-one to be seen. The sound of laboured breathing drew his attention and he saw Grimfist lying at the Emperor's feet, his back propped up against the heel of a gigantic boot.
"Chapter Master!" he exclaimed, and scrambled over the debris to reach him.
Grimfist's breastplate was badly damaged. The golden chalice was cracked in two and blood was leaking down his front, staining the clean paint. His face was as pale as Samovar's had been.
"Master Grimfist!" Arin said again, trying to lift his impossibly heavy form, willing him to wake up. "Come on, please! I need you! We all need you! Master Grimfist!"