"They have departed Tomina?"
"Yes. The sights are lined, the rifles locked. It remains true in space."
"At the targets they anticipate."
"They follow their corpse god. They anticipate what he does."
"Blood and fire. The only certainties that remain."
Warhammer 40,000: Chains of Fear
Chapter 3: Reaction
"I suppose it's occurred to you that if you did a better job at Jordanita you might not be here?"
Shinnon didn't answer. He was spending so much effort trying to ignore Cipcini that responding was out of the question.
"I mean, sure, the Dark Eldar ran rings around you, but they're still aliens. They're inferior life-forms by their nature."
Was this a contradiction in terms, he wondered? He was expending effort in ignoring her, yet by virtue of said effort, was in fact not ignoring her, but acknowledging her by virtue of the effort put into such inactivity.
"But hey, what would I know? I'm just the XO."
Questions best left to saints and philosophers, he supposed. Men and women far more intelligent than he, able to plumb the mysteries of the universe when the universe wasn't out to kill them.
"You even listening?"
"No," he murmured. He glanced at her from his command chair. "Please don't bother in pointing out the irony of me responding."
"Alright then." She stood up straight from the cogitator she'd been leaning on. "So what would you have me do?"
Shinnon returned his gaze to space, only to close his eyes. Space was empty. He'd received that little nugget of information a lifetime ago.
"Sir?"
"You can be quiet for starters."
"Is that an order?"
"Yes."
"And if I ignore it?"
"Then I might just find it in me to submit you to disciplinary action." He kept his eyes closed.
"But we both know that's not going to happen, don't we?" she asked.
He went back to ignoring her. For a few moments, he was given silence.
"So, Jordanita," she said, breaking that silence. "Was that actually what landed you here?"
"No." He still had his eyes closed, but he was willing to at least indulge her. "No, what landed me here was a combination of an unremarkable record, the Eminent Justice passing through a few years ago, and the Pathe needing a new captain after the old one suffered from the effects of a deck breach." He opened his eyes and looked at her. "Is this a sob story? Please tell me. I figure that since the Dark Eldar are bearing down on us, we might have reached that stage."
She glared at him.
"Oh don't look at me like that. You're the commander of a listening post where you're about to die. I think you're entitled to a few tears."
"I'm a servant of the Emperor, and-"
"Terra's thousands of light years away, I think He has more important things to worry about."
Silence returned to the bridge. Broken by…nothing, he reflected. Not the servitors, not by space, not by screams and splinter rifles either. Just silence. Glorious, comforting silence, that lost its comfort with every passing second.
"Do you know how I got here?" Cipcini asked eventually.
"No," he murmured. But you're going to tell me.
"I was born on Thanly'yin," she said. "A hive world."
"Fascinating."
"After I was press ganged-"
Shinnon swung his head around. "Press ganged?" he asked.
"Of course. You know how the Imperial Navy works. Any commander is entitled to draft the citizenry of the Imperium of any world to meet the needs of the Emperor's fleet."
"I…of course I know how it works. Emperor's sake, I've helped indenture voidmen myself."
"Right." She smiled – bitterness on one lip, pride on the other. "Then you can imagine what it's like to spend every waking hour tending to a macrocannon, or catching sleep and dreaming of tending to a macrocannon. Telling yourself that the Emperor was watching. That service would not go unrewarded."
"And…I take that it did."
"Oh yes. Lacerations, rape attempts, deafness in one ear, but yes, it paid off. Surviving at all is a feat few accomplish in naval ordnance. Even fewer who are sane by the end of it."
"You're not sane," Shinnon said. He kept his gaze impassive – bad enough he was talking to a serf, even worse that she'd been speaking back to him so brazenly. "If you were sane, you wouldn't be telling me this at all."
"Oh, I'm sane. Enough to know that the Emperor gave me mercy. Enough to know that there's a reason why people like you end up on stations like this. Enough to know that when the Dark Eldar come, I'll fight for the Pathe." She looked around the bridge before returning her gaze to her captain's. "Not for you. Not someone who squanders His gifts so willingly."
And with that, she walked out. Shinnon spared a gaze for her. Wondering many things, mostly focusing on "what in the name of the Warp just happened?" More questions for saints and philosophers, he supposed. But for now, as he got up, he-
" .Ing."
"What?"
It was one of the servitors. Specifically one at a cognitor station.
" .Ing. Warp. Rifts."
He could see them from the bridge. Tears in the fabric of space-time, as reality and the un-reality of the Warp met in unholy union. The domain of devils and demons, yet the only way through which mankind could travel the stars. Actually the only way most races of the galaxy could travel the stars at all.
Please be the Navy.
He knew that Governor Tiberius had requested reinforcements. But were the warp rifts harbingers of their salvation? Or were the ships that were about to emerge the harbingers of their demise? He gripped the back of his seat, his knuckles white, his eyes wide, his breathing heavy.
Emperor, please, by your light…
The warp rifts stabilized. Space remained empty. His heart kept beating.
And he kept praying all the while.
Cheers echoed throughout the PDF as the landing craft touched down on the land surrounding Reltoyla. Glorious chariots of the Imperial Navy, bearing the Hammer of the Emperor with them. Too large to land at the capital's spaceport, they now touched down on the green grass, their thrusters incinerating the grass beneath them, and their hulls pressing deep into the soil. Small prices to pay as the might of the Imperium was mustered. Row upon row of the Phyrus 24th Regiment made their way down the highways, accompanied by the armour that the Emperor's legions were known for. And in space above, warships were taking position. Beyond the sights of any mere mortal on the ground, but their presence was known all the same. The Emperor's hand reached across His domain. He could thus wield his hammer and shield where he so desired. And if Starkan was to be the anvil, so be it.
Such were the thoughts in Cassius's mind as he sat on top of the trench, the members of his platoon making whoops, cheers, and occasional slander at the thought of the Imperial Guard coming to take "our glory," whatever the hell that meant. Did they think they'd get glory for fighting aliens, he wondered? To fight the alien was their duty – the duty of all Imperial subjects. A duty that got them killed in most circumstances.
"Can you believe it? It's like they think we've won already."
He glanced over at Berdejo as she walked over. She was smiling, even as she tried to hide it.
"Shouldn't you be doing some ball busting?" Cassius asked.
"Not now." She took a seat beside him. "Course, you can give the order, Sir. That's your prerogative."
"Right. Sure." He looked up into the sky as yet another transport sailed down through the air, its machine spirit defying the laws of gravity. "We both know how it works. Imperial Guard arrives on a world, the PDF becomes part of their command structure." He suppressed the urge to shudder. "Maybe even conscripted."
"And that's their prerogative."
"I know. I'm not denying that. But…" He trailed off. The transport had landed. Soon, another column of men and machines would embark. And he would be reminded just how small he was.
He knew he should feel relief. It was the duty of the PDF of every world to hold the line if tested, long enough for the Emperor's hammer to arrive. That the hammer had arrived before anything else on the anvil was a boon, especially a force of this size. And yet, he felt empty, and he had begun to realize why. Seeing the Imperial Guard, seeing tanks larger than the habitation unit he shared with his family, he was reminded of just how real this was. Xenos were coming. Xenos that were depraved even by the standards of alien-kind.
Real. It was all too real, he reflected. He rose to his feet and kicked up a tuff of what little grass remained. He squinted against the sun. It was said that the Emperor's light eclipsed any star, that His glory was most radiant, His will made manifest. Even with the Imperial Guard here, the sun was still hurting his eyes.
"Did you hear anything about the other convoys?"
Cassius glanced at Berdejo. "No," he said.
"You sure? I mean, you're only a lieutenant but…" She smiled "No offence Sir."
"Oh, none taken. I'm quite happy with 'only' being a lieutenant." He let out a small smile – enough to show that he was sincere. "But no, I can't say I know any more than you. The chain of command's long enough. With the Imperial Guard here, I'm likely even lower."
"Oh. Right."
Her face fell, and Cassius frowned. He didn't like seeing his sergeant like that. It was her job to not look like that even if every other member of the platoon did. He stretched out an arm, thought better of it, then asked, "you have family in Artin don't you?"
She nodded, her gaze averting his.
"That's like…two-thousand klicks from the capital."
"Two-and-a-half thousand," she said. "The route runs over Allophylus province. If they're out in the open when the Dark Eldar attack…"
"They'd be sitting eidouns," Cassius said.
She nodded. Once again the urge to put a hand on her shoulder came to him, but this time, he resisted it from the outset. Berdejo was worried. He couldn't fault her. All of the men were worried. He was worried. So much so that he kicked up another tuff of grass. Worry, fear…they could make a man do strange things. Selfish things, actually. So much that as he thought of Portia, Octavian, Jocasta…enough to make him look at his sergeant, and hope that the Emperor would show mercy for this sin.
"Sergeant?"
"Sir?" she asked.
He took a deep breath, putting a hand to his laspistol on instinct – the one piece of comfort he had right now. "Could you cover for me?"
"Pardon?"
"Just for an hour or two." He forced a smile. "I figure that's how long we have until the PDF is integrated into the Phyrus command structure."
"An hour or two to do what?" She wasn't letting this go. And he couldn't blame her.
"Just…something that I need to do. While I can." The smile faded as small hope gave way to cold reality. "You can do that, right?"
Berdejo offered no smile of her own. Instead, speaking slowly, she murmured, "there's a chance my family could die. That if the Dark Eldar find them, dying would be the best outcome they could hope for."
He nodded.
"You also know that we could all die, that all the lasguns and auto-cannons in the universe might not make a difference."
He nodded.
"And in the midst of all that, you want to see your family. To not only abandon the men, but to commit a number of offences that would see you flogged at best."
He nodded.
"And you think that's alright?"
He didn't nod. Instead he just lowered his gaze to the ground. Wondering if more grass would grow one day, or if he would return to the dirt before the year was out.
"I…" She sighed. "Of course Sir. I can cover you for a bit."
"Thank you," he said, grasping her hands and shaking them. "Thank you. I won't forget it."
"Course not," she said, breaking the hold." "And hey, if I die when the xenos attack, you won't even owe me anymore, right?"
"Yeah. I suppose so."
"Right. Well, go on then. See them while you can." She glanced back at the trench, the men now brewing a cup of decatur. "I'll see to this lot."
"Thanks." He smiled at her. "Really."
He began heading off as Berdejo began demanding a cup of her own. Cheers and jeers rang out through the morning air. He tried to smile, but couldn't do so.
The Dark Eldar were coming. He was risking everything and abandoning his platoon to see his family for what could be the last time. And only for a few hours at best.
Part of him felt damned already for being able to live with that.
"Capital ships…landing…Guard…Na…"
"Oh, give it up Aidan."
Maria was driving their rover, which was packed with a trio of bickering children in the back. The people of Artin were moving in a convoy down the Iron Road – the route that cut across Allophylus province that led to the capital. Pooling the town's entire motor pool together, they'd managed to provide transport for all 196 of its citizens, however tight a squeeze it was. The convoy was long, the pace was slow in a bid to minimize fuel consumption, and even if they did two-hundred klicks per day, it would still take them nearly three weeks to reach the capital. It had occurred to Maria that if xenos did attack, and they singled out the convoy, they'd be as good as dead. A little titbit that she'd kept silent about.
"Governor…berius…citizens…"
"Damn it!"
Aidan hit the dashboard and turned off the vox. The reception on the rover had never been good, and trying to pick up a broadcast from the capital had proven to be beyond its capabilities. He looked over at her.
"Seems like good news though, right?" he asked. "Something about landing craft? A guard? As in, the Imperial Guard?"
"Are they the ones who are the emperor's knights?" asked a child in the back. "The ones that the Emperor sends to keep us safe? The…the Spaze Mareens?"
Maria forced a smile. "No dear, not quite. But we'll be safe, don't worry."
Liar.
"Mummy said to daddy that we won't be, that the aliens will come, and our souls will be damned."
Well mummy's a foolish woman then. The smile still forced, Maria said, "grownups say strange things honey. Don't worry about it."
The look on the girl's face made it quite clear that she did worry about it, but the two boys beside her had gone back to their game of 'who can be the most loud and annoying?', so she returned her gaze to the road ahead. Maybe the girl's mother should have kept quiet, but Maria had to admit, she wasn't the only one with such thoughts. If aliens did arrive, and so far Cinna had told them nothing more than the arrival of xenos of some kind, then being out on the road would be a death sentence. Artin was scarcely defensible, but "scarcely" was better than "not at all."
Aidan sighed, and lay back in his seat – Maria could tell that he was uncomfortable, that he didn't have enough room, and only the children in the backseat were preventing him from pushing himself back any further. "Are we there yet?" he asked.
"No."
"Now?"
"Aidan, that game got old over a decade ago."
"Ah, you grew up too fast."
"Least I actually did grow up."
He frowned. "What's that meant to mean?"
"I…" Maria rose a hand, then put it back down on the steering real. "It's nothing."
"Come on, say it."
"It's nothing."
"Sis, say it."
"Are you fighting?" one of the children asked.
"No," Maria said. Which might have worked, if Aidan hadn't said "yes" at the same time. She glared at him. "Fine. Know why you haven't grown up?"
"Tell me."
"Because you come out with garbage like that." She put her foot down on the accelerator, enough to give the rover a rev without hitting the vehicle in front. "Emperor help me, I wish I didn't have to look after you."
"So do I," he murmured. He leaned on the edge of his open window. "Save you from the grox, this is the thanks I get."
Maria remained silent. The grox. It seemed like ancient history now. Artin was over two-hundred kilometres away, but it might as well have been two-hundred light years. She yawned – driving was tiring work, and bickering wasn't going to make it any easier.
Are we going to stop yet?
Cinna was in the head vehicle of the convoy – a rover of his own, reserved only for his own use. When he stopped, the convoy would stop. An event that only happened in mid-afternoon, and at twilight. By the chronometer on the rover's dashboard, Maria reckoned they should have pulled over an hour ago.
"Hey Sis?"
"Yes?"
"Weren't we meant to stop an hour ago?"
Despite herself, she couldn't help but smile. "Yep. Pretty much."
"Oh. Right. Just wondering."
"Hey, want to go up to Cinna, be my guess."
"Yeah, no thanks. You know what Cinna's like."
"What's Cinna like?" asked one of the children. Aidan looked back at the boy. "Daddy said that Cinna kept our faith strong, protecting us from heretics."
"Well, yeah," Aidan said. "But-"
Maria was about to tell her brother to shut up, that if "daddy" had warned the fruit of his loins about heretics, speaking ill of an arbitrator could land her brother in hot water. She wanted to tell him that. Tell him many other things, actually. That she was thankful for the grox, that he'd held up well since the death of their family, that she was glad to have him as her brother.
She never got the chance. Because it was at that moment that the rover was suddenly turned over. The sound and smell of an explosion. The sound of glass breaking, of warm blood landing on the pavement. She realized that she was looking down, that the left side of her face was leaning against the road. That her ears were ringing. Blood smeared over her forehead and hair.
"Aidan?" she whispered.
Her ears were still ringing. And…were those other blasts she heard? Screams? Gunfire?
"Aidan?" She reached out to him, his body limply suspended in the seat. Her arm looked like a blur through her eyes, as if she were manipulating a limb that wasn't of her own body. She unfastened his seatbelt.
"Emperor!"
She stifled a sob as she saw that her brother was dead. His face was torn to shreds, and blood was pouring out from the right side of his body. His shirt was torn, his skin burnt, its stench filling her nostrils, as if death itself was reaching inside her. She looked away, briefly looking into the back of the rover. She shut her eyes, and kept them closed for three seconds. She'd seen what was now on the back seat of the rover. She never wanted to see it again.
Otis. Phaela. Sarandi.
She would remember their names. Find their parents. Tell them…tell them that death had been quick and painless. A claim she could only hope was true.
Otis. Phaela. Sarandi.
Her ears were ringing less, allowing her to hear the sounds outside the rover even more clearly. Screams. Shots. Not just shots from autoguns, but lasguns by the sound of it. No-one in Artin had a lasgun.
Otis. Phaela. Sarandi.
She climbed up through the rover, keeping her eyes shut as she did so. Sliding past her brother's corpse. Trying to ignore the fire racing through her muscles. She had to get out. If she stayed here, she'd be dead.
Otis. Phaela. Sarandi.
She kept their names in her mind. It was the only thing that kept her from screaming in pain.
"Otis! Phaela! Sarandi!"
But she had to yell all the same. So with their names on their lips, she pressed open the jangled mess that was the passenger's door.
"Aidan."
She began crawling out.
"Aylla."
Uttered the name of her mother as the top half of her body made its way through the side door."
"Bararr."
Uttered her father's name, as she looked over the countryside.
"Cinna."
Cinna. He was there, in the field beside the road. Running through the grass towards a dilapidated farmhouse. The convoy was under attack, and he was fleeing.
You bastard.
She gazed around the carnage. Multiple bodies had been hit. The people of Artin were either fleeing or shooting at the figures on the field to the road's left.
You absolute bastard.
The attackers weren't alien. They were clearly human. Also clearly using lasguns. Firing with a large amount of coordination and accuracy.
You're supposed to protect us!
Even as she watched Anne Berjedo be cut down where she stood, her thoughts were on Cinna. Even as she saw Lanka and Kandy lie on the road, as close together in death as they had been in life, her thoughts were on Cinna. Even as she screamed, as she pulled herself out of the rover and landed on the ground, her thoughts were on Cinna. The one who'd left them. Betrayed them. Somehow, in the midst of all of this, she hated him more than the people attacking the convoy.
So she crawled. Crawled across the road, feeling the gravel tear the skin of her palms, thinking of Aidan. Crawled, as the screams and shots died down, thinking of the grox, and how it had died. Crawled, as she thought of grabbing an autogun, and killing every last one of these monsters. Crawled, and grunted, as she rolled off the road into a ditch.
"Cinna."
His name was on her lips.
Everyone she loved and cared about was on her eyes, as she closed them and lost consciousness. As her world fell silent, as did the road above.
Buren had protested the request of aid from the Imperial Navy. Glancing at his general, Tiberius could tell that he still resisted the prospect.
But then again, it was past the point of a 'prospect' now. The Imperial Navy had arrived, and brought with it the might of the Imperial Guard. Before him, looming above the desk of his office, Tiberius looked at the heads of each of those groups.
"Governor Tiberius," said Gollan. "May I present Admiral Valerian Kurtz, and General Cliff Aran."
"Gentlemen," said Tiberius, rising from his seat. "May I welcome you to Starkan. And may I also commend you for your quick response."
"Thank Governor Snir," Kurtz murmured. "As soon as he received word from your astropath, he dispatched my battlegroup to your sector."
"All the way from Tomina?" Tiberius asked.
"All the way as in 1127 light years?" Kurtz asked. "Yes. My fleet was part of the planet's defences. But in the knowledge of a xenos attack on the world of the Akarat sector? Well, that was too good an opportunity to pass up."
"Is that your assessment?" Buren murmured.
"It's the governor's wish," Kurtz said.
Tiberius remained silent. Tomina was the heart of the Germaine sector – a forge world. Next to it, Starkan was nothing. But clearly, Snir had thought differently, even if Kurtz possibly didn't.
"Kurtz and I have planned the defence of Starkan and the Artika system," General Aran said. He smiled – the first smile Tiberius had seen since the men had entered the room. "The PDF will be incorporated into the twenty-fourth's command structure. I'll have my ordinantes coordinate with Buren and his staff."
"I'm sure you will," Buren murmured.
Kurtz stepped forward. "Is there a problem, General?"
"You tell me."
"Fine. There is," Kurtz said. "I've been dispatched here from a forge world that's vital to the defence of Germaine sector, and half a dozen neighbouring sub-sectors. All for one world that I hadn't even heard of until a few days ago."
"We do appreciate it," Tiberius said. "The Dark Eldar-"
"The Dark Eldar are pirates who raid and pillage, not conquer," Kurtz said. "I've fought and defeated them on more than one occasion. I know their tactics, I know how to counter them, I know that a strong defence by itself may be enough to dissuade them. These aren't orks, Governor. They seek out the weakest of targets, not the strongest." He sneered at Buren. "I can see why you needed us."
Buren began to step forward, until Tiberius said, "you have jurisdiction over the Artika system, and-"
"Of course I do," Kurtz snapped, and Buren stopped walking as soon as Tiberius stopped talking. "It's my fleet, my voidmen, my plan. So stay out of my way until its execution is finished."
Tiberius said nothing. Kurtz stood there – tall, stern, wrinkled skin meshed with the blessings of the Machine God. Aran, with wispy grey hair, a big belly, and a slouch in his posture, was the one to break the silence, yet still with candour.
"I can see that we all feel strongly about the defence of this world," he said. He shot both Kurtz and Buren a smile – one smaller than the one he had given before. "Kurtz has the space surrounding this world, I shall oversee the defence of this world itself. I would appreciate the aid of the PDF of course."
"I thought you had command over them," Buren said.
"Command, yes. But I didn't reach the position I'm in now by refusing to listen to advice. It's your world after all. Not even my regiment can protect every square metre. But I'm sure Buren can advise me on the most vital links in the chain."
"I…" Buren swallowed. "I can do that."
"Good. Because I'm in agreement with Kurtz – a strong defence will be our soundest strategy against these xenos."
"In that, I also agree," Tiberius said. He rose from his seat and stuck out a hand. "Welcome to Starkan gentlemen. I leave the defence of my world in your hands."
Aran shook it. Kurtz didn't. But Tiberius could live with that. One victory, one loss. All on the path to the greater victory that he hoped lay ahead.
"If I may, General," Buren asked. "How did you get to the position you're in?"
"Simple," Aran answered. "By winning."