Carpe Posterum Chapter 16

Jossat was not pleased, not in the least. The base of the Storm Heralds was abuzz with the news of Brendan's death, the rebellious governor had been slain and without him the heart had gone out of the uprising. Across the planet Heretics were throwing down their arms and surrendering, giving themselves over to Imperial mercy. If they thought the Imperium would be lenient they were delusional, the Inquisition would be exacting in its punishment of the population and countless examples would be made of those who had turned on Terra. Even without the reprisals life on Angle's Landing would be hard, the major cities were rubble and nuclear winter gripped the land. Famine and starvation would soon make the survivor's lives agonising and short.

Jossat cared for none of that though; the thing that was irritating him the most was that another had killed Brendan. Jossat had sworn to take his head but the governor had only gone and got himself killed by someone else. It was galling, Jossat's revenge had been stolen from him, his triumph taken by a lesser warrior. On a personal level it was degrading but Jossat wouldn't have begrudged a Brother for landing the final blow, he wasn't that petty. Yet the hard part was that the one in question was a Sergeant of Phalros' Company, a dull plodding trenchslogger. Jossat's drive to teach the Storm Heralds true glory was in tatters, his triumph stolen out from under him and his position in ruins. It was the worst form of insult.

Jossat was striding through the camp, glaring at everybody he passed. Most of his Company knew him well enough to let him pass without comment, his fiery temper was legendary in the Fourth. The same anger that drove Jossat to glorious victory could on occasions break out in unexpected directions and many had felt the lash of his tongue. So the squads passed by, eyes locked straight ahead, yet there was one who did not know better.

Sergeant Molin of Seventh Company stepped into his path and called, "Hail Brother-Captain!"

Jossat ground to a halt and snapped, "What?!"

Molin paused at the rebuke but still uttered, "I hear congratulations are in order."

"For what?" Jossat growled.

"For concluding this campaign victoriously," Molin replied calmly.

"It was not by my hand," Jossat corrected.

"But still you are Commander of this expedition," Molin urged, "Its success is your success. It reflects well on your leadership that you trusted a lesser Brother to land the telling blow."

"I…" Jossat mused, "I hadn't thought of it that way, but still I wanted Brendan's head myself. This Toran stole my glory."

"Sergeant Toran," Molin mused, "So it was he. I wouldn't have thought he was capable of it."

"You've met him?" Jossat asked in surprise.

Molin nodded, "Of course, he's the one who took out the Baneblade before the Palace gates."

That reminder drove a stake into Jossat's heart. Of course he knew who had done the deed but hadn't thought it of any consequence. Now the combination of the Baneblade and the Governor would propel his name into the consideration of the Masters. Toran had stolen every scrap of glory on this expedition and to make it worse he was Phalros' man, doubtless believing as he did in pedantic cooperation and kowtowing to Imperial dignitaries. It was intolerable.

Molin continued speaking, "The Adeptus Mechanicus has claimed the Baneblade for consecration and the Imperial Guard is setting up prisoner camps but the Ecclesiarchy has demanded our immediate departure."

"They what?!" Jossat snapped.

"They worry we will try to convert the population to our creed, as is our custom," Molin chided, "They want us away before they send in their own priests. What shall be our response?"

Jossat however said, "It can wait, I have more important matters to deal with."

"What could be more important than," Molin started but then said, "Oh, never mind. I see."

Marching through the camp came the lumbering forms of the Dreadnoughts, three of them all heading towards the waiting transports. Venerable Temeraire, Bellerophon the Slayer of Despots and Honourable Ajax. Jossat smiled as he saw opportunity unfold, the Dreadnoughts were the oldest and most lauded of heroes in the Chapter. If he could convince them to endorse his leadership he may yet come out of this campaign with a shred of glory.

Hastily Jossat stepped into their path and called, "Revered Brothers, I am glad to see…"

Ajax lumbered to a halt and growled, "GET OUT OF THE WAY."

Jossat blinked in surprise and replied, "I only wished to consult with you on the strategic situation. This campaign…"

"HAS BEEN A FARCE," Ajax snapped, "YOU HAVE BUNGLED EVERY MOVE SINCE THE START."

"But…" Jossat protested.

"I DID NOT GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO SPEAK!" Ajax boomed, "YOU ARE ARROGANT AND GLORY-HUNGRY, YOU SPENT THE LIVES OF OUR BROTHERS FOR YOUR OWN SELF-AGGRANISEMENT. YOU ARE THE MEANEST AND MOST PETTY EXCUSE FOR A CAPTAIN I HAVE EVER SEEN, AND I HAVE LIVED FIVE MILLENNIA!"

"Now see here!" Jossat barked, his face going red from outrage.

Yet Temeraire spoke, "In my day a Captain who failed as completely as you would have undertaken Penitent Crusade to excise his shame."

Jossat wasn't about to be spoken to like this and snarled, "I drove the campaign with fury and zeal, hard and fast as war should be conducted. The enemy was cunning and sly but he lies dead, because of my will to succeed!"

But Bellerophon countered, "You were sloppy and rash, you charged in first without looking, ignoring every tenant of the Codex."

Jossat was livid now and snapped, "We cannot be limited in our thinking. High Chaplain Samect calls for zeal in the ranks, courage and ferocity can win more wars than plodding foot-dragging!"

But Ajax growled, "IF THIS SAMECT IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CHAPTER'S DIRECTION THEN HE IS IN STERN NEED OF CORRECTION. I HAVE SEEN THE DETERIORATION IN OUR SPIRIT, THE DULLING OF OUR SKILLS AND THE EMPEROR-WORSHIP. IT IS INTOLERABLE, I WILL NOT ABIDE IT."

Jossat protested, "You can't mean to…"

"THIS CHAPTER NEEDS TO BUCK UP ITS IDEAS," Ajax intoned, "IF THE MASTERS' DON'T FIX THIS MESS THEN I WILL RIP THEM IN HALF AND FIND SOMEONE WHO CAN. NOW GET OUT OF MY WAY BEFORE I STEP ON YOU."

Jossat stepped aside as the Dreadnoughts stomped off, his face burning with shame. He had just been chastised by the oldest Brothers in the Chapter and he knew word of this encounter would soon be all over the camp. His humiliation was complete and his pride could sink no lower. This campaign had been stolen out from under him, by Nimodes, Phalros, Toran and now Ajax. He had been undermined from the start and all had turned on him. High Chaplain Samect would not be pleased.

Filled with bitter anger Jossat turned to Molin and hissed, "Tell the squads to disperse and begin elucidation of the masses. I want this whole planet converted to our creed before we depart."

"But the Ecclesiarchy…" Molin pointed out.

"Damn them to hell," Jossat snarled, "I am not leaving this planet without some small success, everything else has fallen apart but I will have this. Now snap to it!"