Locum Ignotum Chapter 20

The land around the great pit heaved with people, a teeming mass of fearful and desperate civilians. There were tens of the thousands of refugees, huddling together in rude tents as mothers tried to keep young children from crying and men talked angrily together. These people didn't understand what was going on, they had been ripped from their homes only a day before and now had been left here. Anger was growing among them and tensions were high.

Amid that throng Bylan was walking, proudly carrying the great weight of the Company Standard. With him were Captain Toran and the rest of the command squad, Furion, Jediah, Novak and Persion. They were touring the camp to reassure people with their presence. There was one other present, Ganaar, who had tagged along. Bylan wasn't quite sure why the outsider was here but the Space Wolf seemed to operate on the principle that if he acted like he had every right to go wherever he pleased, then people would assume he actually had the right to be there. Oddly enough it generally seemed to work out for him.

Furion was looking over the refugees and remarked, "This is going to turn ugly, this situation is a powder keg, just waiting to blow up."

Toran said, "It had to be done, we can't protect the entire front, we barely have enough Marines to hold the perimeter around this camp."

Persion commented, "We have fifty thousand refugees here, all scared and upset. It's only a matter of time until someone does something stupid."

Toran said, "The sight of us should quell dissent but I am bringing down serf-provosts from the Thunderchild to police this site."

Bylan glanced up at the immense bulk of the Thunderchild, hanging a mile over their heads. It was truly immense, a leviathan stretching as far as the eye could see. Impossibly it was sitting in mid-air, still attached to the docking tower, its immense guns sticking out into the sky. He drew in a breath and said, "+Captain, are we sure the Thunderchild can't be used? Her weapons are in a league of their own+"

Toran replied, "Not the main guns but the secondary turrets may prove useful. The anti-strike craft guns will provide suppressing fire when the enemy gets here."

Jediah inquired, "What do we know of the foe?"

Toran answered grimly, "We have lost all servo-skull surveillance but what we saw was a walking nightmare. The foe's numbers are beyond counting, they sweep the land from end to end. Their nature though is far more disturbing, Arvael was right, Daemons have come."

"Maleficarum," Ganaar spat in disgust, "We were having such a good war, my axe thirsts for more."

Toran stated, "I suspect you will have your fill when they get here."

Bylan frowned and said, "+Why haven't they come yet?+"

Toran was brutal in his assessment, "Because they know we have nowhere to run to, they can finish us off whenever they please. We have Third Company holding the perimeter but we can't last long against what's coming. We will hold the line to the last man but make no mistake, this is our last stand."

Everybody was sobered by that, Bylan in particular had never seen the Captain so dour, so defeated. Yet Ganaar spat, "Better to die on our feet than on our knees."

Bylan looked out over the camp and saw the dirty packed mass of humanity, the fearful crowds of innocents. He knew that the Storm Heralds would fight to protect them but he could not avoid the fact that these people were all going to die. This tour of the camp was nothing but a show; they had no real hope to offer these people. Then he spied something out of place and said, "+What is that?+"

Ahead of them was a small crowd of people surrounding a trio of warriors. One was the unmistakeable sight of Chaplain Wrethan, standing straight with his Crozius in hand. Knelt before him were two more warriors, but these ones were in unadorned Mark II armour and they had their heads bowed. As the Command squad approached Wrethan made a benediction and touched his Crozius to each of their shoulder pads, then they stood up.

Bylan was shocked to see the faces of Maxivus and Leanyr, both solemn and grim in aspect. Maxivus held a thin power sword of an ancient design in hand and Leanyr gripped a huge heavy weapon in two hands, a type that Bylan didn't recognise. They approached swiftly and Toran called, "Father Wrethan, what is this?"

"Let me explain," Maxivus said stepping forward, "We have asked to join your campaign and the good Chaplain was gracious enough to hear our Oaths of Moment."

Ganaar stepped forward and barked, "I knew you two couldn't keep away! The horns of battle are calling and the old warhounds can't help but lift their heads, one last time."

Bylan was puzzled and said, "+What of Baruch, he opposed this+"

"Baruch is dead," Leanyr said, "In peace he was wise but that time has passed. We honour his memory but we can no longer stand aside."

Everybody bowed their heads at that, for the news of Baruch's death had been grim tidings. He had seemed larger than life, even with his odd views and would be sorely missed. Ganaar let the silence stretch out for a moment then he looked at Leanyr and the strange device as he said, "I would be proud to fight alongside you once more but tell me one thing, where the hell did you find a Volkite Culverin?"

Leanyr hefted the weapon and said, "I didn't find it anywhere, I made it."

"+You made it?+" Bylan said in surprise for such relics were rare indeed, the whole Storm Heralds Chapter could not boast a single example.

"Did you really think I was content building irrigation systems," Leanyr snorted, "Took me centuries to steal enough parts off passing wrecks to make it."

"Ha," Ganaar laughed as he slapped Leanyr on the pauldron and proclaimed, "I knew there was a reason I liked you!"

At that moment there was a cry and Bylan turned to see the unmistakeable sight of Arvael. He looked a mess, battered and bruised and he was running as fast as the mingling crowds would allow him to. Arvael approached and cried, "Captain, there you are. I've been looking for you; I think my vox is broken."

Toran frowned and asked, "Arvael, where have you been?"

Arvael sagged and said, "I was attacked by Samandriel."

"What?!" spat Maxivus in a furious tone, "You lie!"

"No, the Warp corrupted him, it turned him mad," Arvael explained, "He killed civilians and then tried to kill me."

"Where is he now?" Leanyr spat.

"Dead," Arvael answered, "I was forced to kill him."

Leanyr's fist suddenly shot towards Arvael's face but it was intercepted by Ganaar's hand. He caught the blow and threw it back saying, "I smell the truth on this one, Samandriel was indeed taken by Maleficarum. He would not have wanted to live as a monster, I would have done the same in the Wyrd's place, as would you."

Leanyr settled back resentfully but Maxivus lowered his head and said, "The IXth Legion will be poorer without him, songs of lament will be sung on Baal."

Bylan spotted Persion looking perplexed and said, "+What is it?+"

Persion blinked and said, "Nothing, I thought Samandriel was a Dark Angel not a Blood Angel. I was wrong."

For some reason both their eyes slid over to Novak, expecting a glib remark, but he was surprisingly silent. Not even the impudent Champion could make jokes at the expense of the dead. Arvael however shook his head and said, "There is no time for this, we have to get the Company together, we have to go right now. The way is open but it won't stay stable for long, we have to take the chance."

"Slow down," Toran said, "You're making no sense, start at the beginning. What are you talking about?"

Arvael drew in a breath and explained, "Captain, the only way that Chaos could get in here is to open a door but doors swing both ways. There's an active portal, one we can use to escape this place."

Bylan was stunned by that proclamation and said, "+A portal, to where?+"

"To the Warp itself," Arvael answered.

Stunned silence greeted that as jaws dropped and then Leanyr said, "You seriously want to traverse a portal directly into the Warp?"

"Great," muttered Novak besides them, "Out of the frying pan into the maws of a million, billion hungry Daemons."

Maxivus scowled and said, "Nobody could survive that."

"We could if we had a Gellar field," Arvael stated, "If we travelled inside the Thunderchild."

"+Let me get this straight,+" Bylan said in complete shock, "+The enemy has opened a portal into the depths of the Warp, a passageway into the heart of Chaos itself and your plan is to ride a starship into it?+"

"Ha, your breed is insane!" Ganaar cried loudly, "Guilliman's head would have exploded at the mere suggestion. I love this plan!"

Suddenly a grumble broke in, it was Chaplain Wrethan and he growled, "The plan is flawed, what of the refugees?"

Bylan was surprised he would bother to ask but Toran nodded and said, "He's right, we can't abandon these people, we have to take them with us."

Arvael replied warily, "I'm not sure there's enough time."

"Then we shall make the time," Wrethan growled, "We cannot abandon our duty to them."

Arvael looked doubtful and said, "With all due respect I'm not sure we can wait for the time it will take to load them all."

Persion looked up and said, "That's a vertical mile to climb and we have one docking tower. There are elders and children here; loading them will take weeks."

Leanyr contradicted him, "Not if you use Servitor driven cargo-pallets in the tower and directed shuttle flights. I calculate that if you use every gunship and lighter you have, you could load these people in a day."

Bylan frowned and said, "+How can you be so sure?+"

"Basic logistics," Leanyr replied confidently, "I've spent centuries organising undertakings like this."

Bylan dared to say, "+But can we even fit that many people on board?+"

Furion answered, "It's not a question of space but having enough air to breathe. Our life support resources are not infinite and this will tax them to the limit. Fifty thousand people shall place a great strain upon the Machine Spirits."

Maxivus spoke up to say, "What of the people beyond the perimeter, there are four hundred and fifty thousand more souls out there."

"Not anymore," Arvael answered forlornly, "Anybody not inside our perimeter is already dead."

Yet Wrethan was intractable and stated, "Then we shall protect the people we still have. To abandon them is to forsake our oaths to the Divine Emperor, they are His flock and we are their guardians. If we must hold the enemy back to buy them time then that is what we shall do, even if it costs every drop of our lifeblood."

Bylan was shocked to hear such words from the cantankerous Wrethan, his time here seemed to have changed him. However Toran overrode everybody to say, "Enough discussion, the decision is made: we are evacuating and taking the civilians with us. Leanyr, Maxivus, Ganaar you're in charge of the camp and I hereby give you full authority to order our serfs about. Use anything and everything you can to get these people on-board."

Bylan was proud to see the return of the decisive and energetic Captain he so admired and he was sure Toran would make this fantasy a reality. However Jediah said, "The enemy will not sit idly by while we load passengers. They will come in full force and seek to end us."

Toran nodded and said, "Then we must delay them, I will draw the Company together and tell them we need to hold the line for another day."

"One more day, for the Emperor," Wrethan proclaimed, "One more day, for the honour of the Storm Heralds."

Bylan lifted the Standard proudly, feeling the call to righteous battle surge through him. He had never been prouder to stand among such heroes and was sure that with Captain Toran to lead them they would triumph once more. As they marched to war Bylan swore that he would fly the Standard high for all to see, no matter what was coming for them.