Chapter IV
The door rumbled open with a grind of gears. The room beyond was dominated by a massive hololith that was displaying a map of the entire Imperium. Around it stood commanders from all of the Imperial military forces. At least seven Astartes chapters were represented. With them stood soldiers and officers of a dozen or so Imperial Guard regiments as well as representatives of the Mechanicus.
However, only half of them wore the red robes of Mars, while the other half were dressed in robes of charcoal grey, that Eva had never seen. She had long believed that all adepts of the Omnissiah wore the red of Mars and only the red of Mars.
"Agripinaa," said the Skitarii Alpha, as if reading her thoughts.
"Another Forge World?" asked Eva.
"Indeed."
"I thought that Mechanicus only wore Martian red."
"Not all, though most do. Some Forge Worlds have their own colors."
"Such as?"
"There's Ryza with its orange robes. Stygies VIII with its black robes. And Metalica with its white robes."
"White robes on a Forge World? How does one keep such garments clean?"
"With great difficulty, believe me."
The two chuckled.
"Then you have the bright blue robes of Deimos," continued Iona. "I have no clue why they chose that color. I just know that they make weapons for a single chapter of Astartes. Though which one is… classified."
"I see." Eva knew which chapter she was referring to. She didn't see any among the Astartes present, though it was unlikely that there would be. If the chapter was present, such a presence would be kept an absolute secret.
Eva crossed the room to join Prioress Rinate and the other Canonesses. While most of them were unphased, one of the younger sisters sank to her knees, eyes wide and assumed a reverent posture.
"Emperor be praised," breathed the woman. "His mercy cover and shield us all…"
"Oh, get up, Sister Ingred!" snapped the Prioress. "You're embarrassing yourself."
"Don't be so hard on her, Prioress," said Eva, smiling. "I remember another young sister having a similar reaction the first time she witnessed this."
The Prioress snorted, both out of annoyance and agreement. She had actually fallen flat on her face and wept. At the time, she had been a Palatine of about thirty years. Despite looks, Eva was Rinate's elder by a very large margin. However, Eva had never sought the responsibility of priory.
"But please, Sister Ingred," said Eva, offering her hand to the Sister inferior. "Do stand up."
She pulled the younger woman to her feet. "Forgive me, Canoness," said Ingred, averting her eyes.
"My child, there's nothing to forgive," assured Eva.
Across the room, Stephen found the person he had hoped to find.
"Ryker!" called Stephen. The two friends embraced. Though Stephen loved to embrace his friends, Ryker was not so open. However, having over a century of friendship with the Champion made it somewhat tolerable.
"My friend," said Ryker. "I had feared that you wouldn't come back this time."
"I'm glad to put your fears to rest," said Stephen. "Where is Sergeant Ulrech?" Stephen had been searching for the Veteran but he was unfortunately absent.
"Sleeping," said Ryker, with a hint of sorrow.
"Sleeping? When will he wake?" Stephen was confused as to why the Veteran Sergeant was sleeping at a time like this.
"When we require him to."
Stephen eyed Ryker inquiringly. Ryker pointed to his belt with his bionic arm. Stephen saw Ryker's helmet hanging there, however, it was no longer the solid white of a chapter veteran, but was red with a white stripe. Stephen now understood.
"What happened?" asked Stephen.
"When we left the Apothecary," began Ryker. "We attempted to return to reinforce you. However, we waded into an ocean of greenskins. And all of them were dressed in red."
"Speed freaks."
"They spotted the sergeants helmet and it was all they cared about. Until they spotted my bolter and it only got worse. They laid into us and if the others hadn't found us, we would both have been lost."
"Which brothers saved you?"
"The same ones that recovered you and the Canoness. We thought they were Templars until we saw their armor. I would recognize the golden armor of the Fists anywhere. They drove the xenos back but by then, Ulrech was near death. Both of his legs were gone and only one of his arms remained functional. Most of his organs were lacerated and he could no longer see. We hurried him back to the Apothecaries and I joined the team heading in to recover you."
"I didn't see you."
"You were slain by the time I arrived."
"And Ulrech, when was he… entombed?"
"Three days ago. The Apothecaries tried their best to treat his wounds, but it was all for naught. He was sealed within the Redemptor and set to rest."
"He is honored."
"Yes."
"How did the Marshal take it?"
"We… no longer have a Marshal."
Stephen could not respond. The Marshal had been slain? He had known the man since he was an Initiate. Back then, Marshal Gertain had still been a sergeant. He had survived the fall of Cadia and the Indomitus Crusade. But now it seemed that the Imperium Nihilus had claimed him.
He had battled greenskins on various worlds, slain daemons in too many engagements to name and crushed infinite numbers of heretics with bolter, blade and boot. But now he was gone?
"How?" was all Stephen could say.
"Scrap Walker," said Ryker, half-sighing. " Three of them, actually. He managed to disable two of them before the third one struck him with its chain fist. We were lucky to find at least a portion of him left intact."
"His gene-seed?"
"Recovered, intact."
Stephen let out a breath. Despite his sorrow over the Marshal's loss, he was relieved that his genestock would continue on, at the very least. He looked up from the floor and scanned the room. By his best estimate, seventy people filled the strategeum. Nearly every branch of the Imperial armed forces was represented, from the Astra Militarum to the Navis Imperialis. The Mechanicus and its subordinate formations were also represented. Not to mention the Astartes and Sororitas. Only two branches were absent.
"Is everyone here?" asked Stephen.
"Almost," said Ryker. "We're still waiting on a few."
"Before I forget, why hasn't a new Marshal been chosen?"
"We simply haven't had the time. The fighting only worsened after his death. It wasn't until only yesterday that the greenskins finally quit this world. We were all on mop-up duty until three hours ago. Hopefully, after this meeting we can hold an enclave and choose a new Marshal. You will be there, won't you?"
"Of course, as long as I'm not a candidate."
"You have my word." Stephen heard the disappointment in Ryker's voice. Clearly, he had hoped that his friend would wish to become a Marshal. But Stephen was no leader, he was a warrior only. However, he had faith that Ryker would carry the title one day.
"Who are we waiting for?" asked Stephen.
The hiss and grind of the door opening answered his question.
"Them," commented Ryker.
Stephen looked towards the doorway. Four figures stood there. The first was taller than any Astartes and dressed in a massive suit of gold-plated artificer armor. Across the breastplate, in almost unreadable letters, were inscribed hundred, possibly thousands, of names. At the man's waist was sheathed a one-handed sword the same size as Stephen's Black Sword and under his arm he carried a golden helmet topped with a red horse hair plume. It was easy to recognize a Custodes. The man's steely-eyed gaze immediately earned him Stephen's respect.
On either side of the Custodian stood two figures who were also easy to recognize. Both were female, dressed in golden power armor and girded with swords. Both were bald, save for a plume of dark hair and tall gorgets hid their mouths. On their foreheads were tattooed Imperial Aquilas and their eyes were solid black. Though Stephen was no psyker, he could still sense the dark aura around the Sisters of Silence, marking them as pariahs. Despite the unease they caused, it was the final figure, the smallest of the four, that unnerved Stephen the most.
The man wore a tight black bodysuit that contoured to every muscle in his body. Two ammunition bandoliers crossed his chest and another ammunition belt encircled his waist. Most of the pouches were clearly meant for rifle ammunition. Though he carried no rifle, only a large pistol hanging from his gun belt. He kept his own helmet on, though it was less of a helmet than a mask. It resembled little more than a pair of goggles attached to a rebreather, but the green glint of the eye lenses gave away their function. Stephen didn't need to say the word, but he did so anyway.
"Vindicare," he whispered.
"Indeed," said Ryker, with equal disquiet.
"What are they doing here?"
"The Primarch sent them."
"Why?" In truth, it didn't surprise Stephen. After all, the Emperor himself had allowed the Assassinorum to continue existing. However, their motives were often not fully understood and were not always in line with those whom they served alongside. And they were often brought in when traditional methods were either impractical or ineffective. If Guilliman had sent them, clearly, he expected one or the other to happen.
Unfortunately, the assassin's presence mad their grand strategy no clearer. Stephen only hoped that this would soon be rectified.
The Custodian crossed from the door to the lectern opposite it. It was constructed for an Astartes Captain, and he was forced to lean down to speak into the vox caster.
"My fellow Imperials," said the Custodian, his voice echoing through over a dozen vox speakers. "I am Hadrian Verantos, Emissary Imerperatus. And I am a representative of the blessed Primarch Roboute Guilliman. I know that many of you- in fact most of you- are curious as to the reason for my presence."
A ripple of agreements filled the room.
"In truth, I am here for two reasons. The first is to deliver a message from the Primarch himself."
Excited murmurs rippled through the room.
"The Primarch has taken an interest in the campaign?" asked Eva, more as a statement than a question.
"So it would seem," said Rinate.
The Custodian read out the Primarch's message. It contained the usual niceties and platitudes. The Primarch appeared to be well informed of the campaign's progress and well aware of its tribulations. The message referenced several previous battles, including the doomed Siege of Chiros. It spoke of the great losses, supply shortages and the destruction of various Imperial vessels. It praised the Templars and Sororitas as well as the Naval personnel who had "fought, bled and perished in the Emperor's service". It even expressed the Primarch's regret that he could not join them.
"It would be nice to have him with us," said Stephen, with a frown.
"Indeed," agreed Ryker. "But his attention is needed elsewhere."
The message then went into a long retelling of the Primarchs' exploits. From the ancient glories of the Great Cusade to the recent victories of the Indomitus Crusade. It spoke of the righteous fury of Russ at Prospero, the tragic heroism of Ferrus Manus at Istvaan V, the noble actions of Corax as he attempted to rebuild his legion and return to the Crusade. It mentioned the miraculous return of Vulkan after Istvaan, the inspired stratagems of the Khan during the Siege of Holy Terra and the tragic last stand of the Angel aboard the Warmaster's ship. But above all, it praised Dorn and his unerring defense of the Imperial Homeworld as well as his contributions to the "Reformation" of the Imperium after the Heresy. It also spoke glowingly of both the Templars and Imperial Fists as the "Sons of Dorn". Finally, it declared the Primarch's gratitude at all the Templars and Sororitas had done, but also that there was more to be done.
"Now were come to the meat of it," said Ryker, smiling darkly.
The second part of the message, gave the reason for the Primarch's sending of his delegation. In no uncertain terms, he was declaring a Crusade unlike any before it. It said that a "strange presence" had been sensed by several Astropathic choirs. What it was, none could say, but it was clearly not tainted, either by Xenos or the Warp. It was a presence of "stalwart loyalty, unyielding tenacity and unshakeable will". The presence burned brightly, but was not produced by any psyker. There could only be one answer… another Primarch! Though, which one, none could say and there was still the possibility that it was something else. But Guilliman was not willing to leave it up to chance. While the Great Rift had created much interference in the Astropathic relay and knowing the exact truth was nearly impossible, the Astropaths were able to find an approximate location for the presence's point of origin. However, everyone's hearts sank upon learning of the location… the Ghoul Stars.
Though Stephen had not been part of the Ghoul Stars Crusade, he had heard many veterans speak of it and the vile "Cythor Fiends" who once inhabited the region. Some believed they still did and the fact that the region lay just outside the reach of the Astronomican prevented any attempt to ascertain the truth. There were also rumors that it was infested by Necrons or worse.
The Primarch's message revealed his own trepidation. Referring to the area as a "dark wilderness" inhabited by "heretics, xenos and unspeakable horrors".
"That's putting it mildly," whispered a Militarum officer near Eva. She was convinced that he had never been there, but he wasn't wrong. They were named the Ghoul Stars for a reason and only one Astartes chapter, the Death Spectres, safeguarded the region. There was also an Imperial Knight House near the region, though little was known about it other than its preference for flamer weapons.
According to the Primarch's message, the Spectres and the mysterious Knight House were expected to aid the Crusade once it was in system.
"I wonder if the High Lords contacted them," said Ryker.
"Likely," replied Stephen. "We'll have to find out."
"In conclusion," said the Custodian, finally. "Know that my heart goes out to you and I am fully confident in your abilities to execute this campaign. Know also that the Emperor's eye is upon you and I implore you to conduct yourselves accordingly. Now, I bid you all farewell and the Emperor's Mercy. Go forth in the Emperor's name. For the Emperor!"
"For the Emperor!" shouted everyone, many slamming a fist to their chests in the ancient, pre-unity gesture. Others, mostly Militarum, even thrust their fists into the air, in a gesture of strength.
As the commotion quieted, the Custodian continued.
"Now, the second reason I am here," he said. "I and four of my brother Custodes have been sent to join this endeavor. Along with twelve Sisters of Silence and seven members of the Assassinorum. However, none of us have been given a mandate of leadership. Therefore, I have been tasked to help establish a hierarchy of leadership. To that end, after this meeting I will meet the Force's most senior commanders and together we shall elect an overall commanding officer."
Ryker and the other Sergeants turned to Stephen and one of their Chaplains. "That would be you then," said Ryker, smirking at his friend.
Stephen glared at him with exasperated anger. "I won't forget this," grumbled Stephen, mostly in his throat.
"Commanders, please remain," said the Custodian. "The rest of you may withdraw and await your commanders aboard your vessels."
The sergeants and other junior officers quickly filed out. Iona 91A left along with several other Skitarii officers, while Uleric 993 and the other Tech-Priests remained. Eva turned to leave but Rinate stopped her.
"Prioress?" asked Eva.
"You are my most senior Canoness," said the Prioress. "That makes you my second-in-command, by default. You stay."
Eva obeyed her commander and remained.
The chaplain took his place at Stephen's side.
"Chaplain Dunstel," greeted Stephen, clasping wrists with the wizened chaplain.
"Brother Stephen," replied the other Astartes. Though Stephen was a perpetual, the chaplain was still his elder. He had five centuries on Stephen and had served alongside Grimauldus himself during the Second War of Armageddon. But more than this, he had served alongside the Primarch in the early days of the Indomitus Crusade.
He rarely spoke of those days, but many within the chapter believed that this was the reason he had never aspired to be a captain. He acted only as the an advisor to the Marshal, likely the reason for his presence now.
Stephen took a look around and took stock of the forces arrayed for the upcoming campaign.
As far as Astartes, the Templars were joined by the Imperial Fists, Blood Angels, Star Dragons, Nova Marines and, surprisingly, the Blood Ravens. A mysterious chapter, even to their fellow Astartes. Neither they nor the Star Dragons knew the identity of their Primarch, but only the Blood Ravens actively sought answers. Some believed that their Primarch was the traitorous Red King. While some cursed them for this, Stephen pitied them. If it was true, he prayed that their penance would be enough to drown their shame.
The Militarum was an even more diverse group. There were Valhalans and Mordians, of course. They had been tenaciously defending their homeworlds from heretics and xenos alike since the opening of the Great Rift.
There were also Cadians. Stephen had served alongside them during the Cruxis Crusade and even spotted several faces within their ranks that he recognized. Likely, their were descendants of his old comrades. It made him proud that the old saying "The planet broke before the Guard did" still held true.
There were also Catachans, a group Stephen only cared about because of their reputation. He despised their uniforms, which he didn't even consider as such. Many of them wore nothing even resembling a shirt and their… reasonably muscled arms were exposed to the elements and enemy fire. Some had at least decided to wear flak vests over their muscular torsos and in place of a practical helmet, each wore a cloth cap, a red bandana or went bare headed. To other Guardsmen the were almost Astartes. To Stephen, they were little boys playing soldier. The only one who looked reasonably clothed among them was the lone female officer, who wore a cloth hat and a tan shirt under her flak vest. However, Stephen had heard tales that female Catachans occasionally ran into battle bare-breasted to confound their opponents. It was this type of enthusiasm that earned single iota of Stephen had for them. The same could not be said for the Kriegers.
They stood there at parade rest, all hidden behind their gas masks. Though he had never had the privilege of serving with them, Stephen's maternal uncle, Aylward van Gustav, had once been a Commissar within the ranks of the Death Korp. He had spoken highly of their bravery and "zealotry". In fact, it was from his uncle that Stephen had learned of the Kriegers' practice of executing Commissars who lacked "conviction". Commissar van Gustav was no such man. He had lasted in the Death Korp for twelve years, fighting in hellacious warzones and putting his men to shame. He had perished when Stephen was nine, slaying an Ork warboss. By his soldiers' account, he had driven his trenching tool deep into the greenskin's guts, ripping apart its innards. Despite being impaled on the beast's power-klaw, the drag marks near his body suggested that he had attempted to drag himself towards the enemy. And he was still wielding the trenching tool and wearing his gas mask. Both now resided in Stephen's chambers next to his shrine to the Emperor.
"Hail, Kriegers!" he declared, holding his clenched fist out towards them.
"Hail, Astartes!" replied the Kriegers, returning the gesture.
Eva chuckled. She knew all too well the adoration her lover had for the soldiers of Krieg. She looked over the remaining Militarum units.
She first spotted the Armageddon Legionnaires. She had only been six when the Third War of Armageddon had been fought, but she remembered it well. For it was the very war that had claimed her father's life. At the War's end, an officer of the Steel Legion had arrived at their door bearing her father's service blade and an Armageddon Valor Medal, on a blue ribbon. Her mother had wailed her sorrow and Eva knew. She wore that medal, even now. The ribbon had rotted away long ago and now she wore it on a chain.
Though they had not the warrior tradition of Cadia, nor the penitent fury of Krieg, or even the mad bravado of Catachan, they maintained a stalwartness that any soldier should. And that is what Eva admired about them.
Beside them stood the drop troopers of Elysia and Harakoni. Though both carried similar weapons, wore similar uniforms and used similar equipment, it wasn't difficult to tell them apart. The Elysians stood with the proud certainty of elite soldiers. While the Harakoni stood with the steely eyed courage of born hunters.
The group that surprised Eva was the Tanith. They were the newest and smallest of all the groups. Eva had read their history and knew of their origins during the Sabbat Worlds Crusade. At the time, the numbered six thousand in three units. Now, they numbered twelve thousand in six units. By the looks of it, two units were present. Though she didn't know why, Eva felt honored that they were here.
Next to them, were the Vostroyans. Eva smiled as she realized that, had she and Stephen been born on Vostroya, both would have been sent to serve with the Firstborn. While she had always thought their uniforms were ridiculous looking, she had no doubts about their abilities. Additionally, their bond of family and comradeship had always impressed her.
The final two groups brought her feelings of both fear and joy.
The fear came from the forces of Tempestus. Unique among the Militarum, the answered directly to the Administratum and were often servants of the Inquisition. Specially trained and used as special forces by both Inquisition and Militarum, their intensity unnerved Eva. They, like her, were taken from the Schola Progenium. Unlike her, most of them had never known their families. Still, they were Guardsmen and their aid would be sorely needed.
The joy came from the most surprising source, the forces of Savlar. A penal legion, the Chem-Dogs were murderers, thieves, profaners, heretics and Emperor knows what else. While most Imperials viewed them as scum and cannon fodder, Eva saw them as quietly noble, in their own way. Mostly because, her father had served with them, many years before. All Chem-Dogs were criminals and so was her father.
He had turned to thievery after her brother had fallen ill. His medical bills had nearly impoverished them and her father had soon after lost his job. Sadly, it had done little to help and after two years, Kiefer had died. On the day of his funeral the Arbites had arrested her father. He had chosen joining the penal legion over execution, mostly to invoke the "Right of the Guard". Essentially, the community would look after his wife and daughter in his absence.
He served four years in the legion and, if reports were to be believed, had made quite the name for himself. Eventually, he was made a lieutenant after killing an Ork chieftain in single combat. The sword he had done the deed with now rested next to Eva's shrine to the Emperor. He had fallen wielding it in an ultimately successful attempt to drive back an Ork incursion on a world whose name Eva had long since forgotten.
She took ahold of the medal around her neck and approached the Chem-Dogs.
"Gentlemen," said Eva.
"Yes, sister?" asked their leader, with a hint of disdain. The man was the same height as her, with a bald head and bearded face. A dragon's head tattoo over his left eye signified gang association and a jagged scar went from the edge of his mouth to just behind his right ear. His beard was red and his eyes were green, with chemical yellowing in the irises. He glanced at her with barely disguised spite. Understandable, as he was a hardened criminal and she was a pious warrior of the Emperor. Tragically, many in her order had been quite cruel to men like him in the past. And that had left an enduring hatred of Sororitas amongst the penal legions. Eva was about to put a chink in it.
"The Emperor giveth," said Eva, saluting and smirking at the Chem-Dog's shocked expressions.
"And we'll shall taketh," said the Leader, after a moment's hesitation. The man's disdain melted away in that instant. "How does a Sister of the faith know our words?"
"My father, Karsten Rainerr, told me in a message once. Long ago."
"Your father was a Chem-Dog?" asked another legionnaire, a younger man with a black mohawk, clean shaven chin and a star tattoo on his neck.
"Indeed he was," answered the leader, before Eva could. "We know him as Saint Karsten."
"That Saint Karsten?" asked a female legionnaire, with blue eyes and black braided hair. Her surgically altered lips identified her as a former sex worker. The woman had one sleeve of her jacket off and was pointing at a tattoo on her bicep. It depicted a skull with an Imperial Aquila on its forehead and a scroll below it with the words "Fides et Victoria" written on it.
Eva recognized the emblem, it was the same one that her father kept on his rosary. Tragically, it had been lost on Armageddon,
"The very one," replied the leader. "I'd heard tell that he had a daughter. Though, I never expected her to be Sororita."
"Why not?" asked Eva.
"Forgive me sister, but I would not believe that a serial thief could raise a child who could be so pious."
"He was long dead before I chose this path. And he wasn't always the man you know."
"They never are. But I am glad that the Saint's Daughter fights alongside us."
"Saint's Daughter"? Eva like the sound of that. However, she was confused as to why none of them had asked how she had lived so long. After all, her father had perished almost three centuries ago. But she quickly put the thought from her mind, it didn't really matter.
She left the Chem-Dogs and rejoined her own delegation. While they had begun the campaign with ten preceptories, only seven remained. Fortunately, ten preceptories of Our Martyred Lady had arrived to reinforce them.
Eva had once hoped to be accepted into Our Martyred Lady. However, her potential had sent her into the ranks of the Ebon Chalice. Though, she had no complaints, Sororita was Sororita.
The head canoness was a woman Eva knew well, Sister Serrilda Herstrum. Originally from the planet Freya Secundus, a death world that venerated Leman Russ and cultivated a proud warrior culture. She still wore her "warrior's locks", a combination braid and ponytail that meant to be both intimidating and to keep the hair out of the eyes.
Eva had first met her in the latter days of the Indomitus Crusade. They had both found themselves confronting a band of traitor Astartes, World Eaters of all things. They were outnumbered, four to one, and the enemy was led by a Berserker.
While the other Sisters began to panic, Serrilda steeled them saying, "The Emperor has already won this fight!" And she charged the foe, chainsword and bolt pistol held high. The others regained their courage and rushed after her. Five Sisters fell and Serrilda lost her left arm, but the traitors were slaughtered to a man.
"Serrilda," greeted Eva, gripping the other woman's forearm in salutation.
"Eva," replied Serrilda, returning the gesture and smiling. "Fancy that, us two out here on crusade."
"Indeed. Well, they knew they would need the best."
They both laughed. Though Eva was the elder, Serrilda looked it. Her blue eyes had faded to grey and her once black hair had begun to turn white. However, the fire was still in her gaze. She was what the campaign needed.
Eva examined the Mechanicus delegations. The one from Mars was relatively small, five Enginseers and one Dominus. Heinrich Alpha-Sigma stood amongst them speaking directly to the Dominus. While the Mechanicus were ever present as even the Sororitas had contingents aboard their vessels, Eva had rarely seen them outside of a warzone. And she had believed that they all wore the red of Mars. She was glad to know that this was not the case and actually preferred the black robes of Agripinaa.
Their delegation was much larger than the Martian one. It consisted of three Dominae and over a dozen Enginseers. However, at the group's center was a being very different than all the others. Far taller than any Astartes, but more machine than man. Sustained by a system of tubes and reservoirs of nutrient chemicals and stems, going about on a collection of humanoid and arachnid legs. And the breathing mask was so seamless that it appeared to be an actual face. The robes hung like a canvas shroud on a vehicle over the mechanical frame. Though Eva had never seen one, she was certain that this was the Fabricator-General of Agripinaa.
"Who is that?" asked Eva, pointing to the massive Mechanicus.
"That is Fabricator-General Gelbrix Ferren of Agripinaa," said Serrilda.
"So, he is the Fabricator-General."
"Yes, she is."
"She?" Eva smiled and examined the final group. The Custodian stood over them all, both figuratively and literally.
He was twelve feet tall, at least, and his helmet would have added at least another foot to that. Had he been an average human, he would have been considered quite handsome. A narrow nose, strong chin, high cheek bones, a thin mouth and piercing green eyes. His dark hair was cut almost to the scalp and his ears seemed to lay flush with the sides of his head. His gaze was commanding and wizened. Eva knew that Custodians could live far longer than Astartes and could best any of them in combat. Though, such conflagrations had become quite rare since the days of the Heresy.
The words covering the man's breastplate were written in a miniscule, barely legible script. Eva knew that all of these were part of the man's name. Each one a battle or campaign he had been a part of. By her best estimate, Eva guessed that there were at least ten thousand of them. And that was being conservative, as she could only see the outside of his armor.
The Custodian's companions made her uneasy. The Sisters of Silence wore armor of the same golden hue as the Custodian, lacking only the thousands upon thousands of names. It resembled that of the Sororitas, contouring to their female forms. The main difference was the massive gorgets covering their mouths and the plumed topknots coming out of their otherwise shaven skulls. However, it was not their looks but something less tangible that bothered her.
Sisters of Silence were Blanks, everyone knew this. But Eva had never truly understood what that meant. Her first Prioress had told her that it meant they had no souls and were immune to psyker attacks. But seeing them now, she knew that this explanation was far too simple. Just to see their empty black eyes made her stomach turn. They radiated an aura of disquiet and, for want of a better word, darkness. Eva had heard that many Blanks, or Pariahs as the less civilized called them, were killed soon after their birth. Though she hated the idea, she now very much understood it.
Aside from them, the Custodian's third companion was even more disquieting. Though he did not radiate the same aura as the Blanks, he was something… lesser known. His bodysuit, boots, goggled mask and large Exitus pistol clearly marked him as an assassin of the Vindicare Temple. He stood, still as a statue and appeared to not take much notice of the room's occupants. Eva was certain that this was not the truth. Assassins who did so very quickly lost their lives. However, his almost robotic stoicism mad Eva fearful. Assassins had one purpose in life, killing. The Vindicare did so with marksmanship, but other temples did so with various methods. Infiltration, ultra-violence, poison and even the darkness of their very being. Some of them had slain Astartes, and one had even managed to slay a Primarch. Maybe this was why Eva feared them and why she was thankful that they were on her side, or rather the Imperium's side.
"Are we all here?" asked Hadrian Verantos, taking up position at the hololith.
"It appears so," said Fabricator-General Ferren, her voice modulating through vox speakers.
"Then, let us begin." Before he could continue, a vox hail began bleeping. "What is it?" demanded the Custodian.
"I'm sorry sir," replied the flustered voice of the ship's vox operator. "But there are two Marines standing outside the door. And they're demanding entrance."
"Tell them to wait with their brethren. Their captains will let them know the details when our conclave is finished."
Stephen rolled his eyes at the word "conclave". The Custodian was being far too formal.
"That's the thing, sir," replied the voice, more insistently. "They are captains."
A ripple of confusion crossed the room. Even the Vindicare's posture changed.
A sense of dread rose up in Stephen. They were out in the Imperium Nihilus, and an Astartes chapter that none of them had expected simply showed up at their doorstep? Now two of their captains demanded entry into the "conclave". An odd turn of events.
"Let them in," said the Custodian, then he turned to the others. "Be on your guard."
Stephen's had fell to his bolt pistol. What did the Custodian fear? Could these newcomers be corrupted by the Ruinous Powers? If so, how had they boarded the vessel without resistance? Or had they? If they had not, why had no warning klaxon sounded? Was that due to the Ruinous Powers? If they could do that, how could they hope to combat them?
All these questions gave Eva a migraine and she took ahold of her plasma pistol. She longed to have her sword back. Her grip on the pistol tightened as the door slid open.
The two Space Marine captains stood shrouded in the artificial light. Before a word could be spoken, dozens of bolt pistols, plasma pistols, laspistols and stub pistols were drawn and pointed in their direction. One of them, who wore Gravis armor, threw up his hands in a gesture of peace.
"It's alright, we're friends," he said, his voice soothing though somehow predatory.
"Step forward," commanded the Custodian. "Both of you."
The man did so, followed by the other man, who wore Phobos armor and aimed his own bolt pistol at the floor in a gesture of readiness.
"Remove your helmets," continued the Custodian.
The captain in the Gravis armor obliged. However, his companion did not do so until he punched his arm. The man slowly holstered his weapon and removed the helmet. Their faces were still cast in shadow by the backlight.
"Come forward, more," said the Custodian, nodding for everyone to lower their weapons.
They all did so at varying speeds. Then, the door slid closed and the two Astartes came into full view. Immediately, weapons were raised back up.
The two were terrifying to behold. Their flesh was a light grey and, aside from a few scars, was far too smooth. Both had no hair and their pointed noses were barely distinguishable. But it was their eyes, dark as the Blank's and with an animalistic quality to them that were most unsettling.
Their armor was a darker grey than their skin. Save for the pauldrons, which were black and emblazoned with the silhouette of a fanged aquatic beast of ancient Terra.
Some of the Guardsmen took a step back. The others along with the Astartes, Sororitas and Mechanicus did not budge. Nor did the Custodian or Sisters of Silence. The Assassin alone took a step forward and growled one word. The same one on everyone's mind.
"Carcharodons," he growled.
Both captains grinned revealing their mouthfuls of razor-sharp teeth.
Eva took it back. It wasn't the Assassin that made her the most uneasy. It was these Astartes. They were… frightening, to put it mildly. They appeared to be more animal than man. With a hidden maniacism behind their eyes. It didn't seem natural.
"What are you doing here?" demanded the Vindicare.
"The same as you, Assassin," said the captain in Gravis armor. "Answering the Emperor's call. Now, will all of you lower your weapons, please?"