Operator Silius Togli turned in his seat. "Sir, I have an unscheduled warp exit. Large vessel, claiming communications priority. They want immediate contact with the astartes Ultramarines, sir. They say astartes protocol 101."
Supervisor Aggie Lothar turned round from where she was discussing next week's schedules with the under-supervisors. "Togli, did you just say, protocol 101?"
"Yes, sir. A vessel named Eyes of the Phoenix, recently claimed as salvage by a captain Sara Tarken."
She took three swift steps to the comms and took over the control. "Eyes of the Phoenix, this is traffic supervisor Lothar. Repeat your request. Did you say astartes protocol 101?"
A deep voice answered her and a massive armoured figure appeared on the vid-screen. "That is an affirmative on protocol 101, traffic control. In the Emperor's name put me in contact with the Lord Commander."
She blinked at the space marine. "Sir, I cannot do that, but I am patching you through to the astartes Ultramarines military control." She hit several controls at once; another massive armoured figure, this one in blue armour, appeared on her second vid.
"This is brother-sergeant Pannone. This is an emergency channel, traffic control. What is the problem, in the Emperor's name?"
"Sergeant, this is traffic supervisor Lothar in system traffic control. We have an unscheduled warp exit at system edge. The signal is very faint, but they demand contact with Lord Commander Calgar under astartes protocol 101. The person on the comm-link is a space marine, sir."
Even on the small vid image, the warrior's eyebrows rose a fraction in surprise. "Put them through, supervisor."
"Affirmative, sergeant. Patching the signal through now."
Pannone looked at the unsteady grainy image; an astartes in dark armour, looking grim. "Brother-sergeant Pannone of the Ultramarines 6th company, I greet you in the name of the Emperor," he identified himself. "What is the problem, brother?"
"Brother-sergeant Morgan. Our communications array is severely damaged following action against a tyranid fleet spur in the Caltenis system. I regret, brother-sergeant, that we cannot transmit the full tactical data of the action with any certainty. Request permission to dock at your facilities for manual transfer of data records in the Emperor's name. Affirm?"
Caltenis was less than ten systems away; a hive fleet spur this close? He didn't hesitate.
"Affirmative, brother-sergeant Morgan. You have clearance to dock at the main military facilities; transmitting lane protocols now. A squad will be at dock to receive you."
The other man nodded sharply. "Affirmative, brother-sergeant. Request re-ammunitioning; class V and VI munitions."
"I shall pass on the request. Do you have need of medical facilities?"
"Negative, brother-sergeant. Burial facilities and the services of an apothecary only. We also have a carnifex corpse aboard for study."
An apothecary? Pannone nodded silently; he knew what that must be for – geneseed extraction from the dead. But a xenos corpse would be helpful; a toxin might be tailored from such. "Brother-sergeant, the squad is on its way to dock now. Take dock seventeen-alpha."
"Acknowledged, brother, dock seventeen-alpha. By His Grace, Phoenix out."
The connection clicked off. Pannone thought for a second, then opened his vox to contact brother-captain M'shur.
"Mr Morgan, why are you wearing black armour?"
"Because, Janey, if I wear my own colours, they will kill me on sight rather than listen. This way, I will at least be able to speak with the Ultramarines, and pass on the data. Captain Abdiel and his men will not have died in vain."
The girl nodded. "Be careful, Mr Morgan."
"I shall be. Sara, you had better wear something formal. The Ultramarines are quite sticky with protocol, I seem to recall."
Sara looked askance at him over her shoulder, then turned her attention back to docking the great ship. He smirked. "They will want to speak with you also, captain Tarken."
She said nothing, speaking into her headset as she brought Eyes of the Phoenix into a perfect dock at the rim of the massive fleet space station.
He smiled. "Nice job, captain."
She nodded. "Thanks, brother-sergeant." She spoke again, into the mike. "This is Eyes of the Phoenix. Attaching umbilicals. Opening main hatch."
An acknowledgement came back. She turned, but Sedreth had already left.
Brother-sergeant Malthar watched the ship as she came in. A warship, obviously, with a few scars which looked recent. He didn't recognise the ship class though; the prow was upside-down and that was not something he had seen before, though it appeared to be carved into the likeness of a great eagle. There was a massive gouge near the top of her control tower and twisted wreckage could be seen inside. Pannone had told him she claimed comms damage; he could see why. He readied his squad with a glance as the hatch opened and the ship's ramp extended. There was a pause of a few seconds before a single marine in black armour walked down the ramp. The warrior walked straight up to him and saluted.
"Brother-sergeant Morgan," he said identifying himself. "Brother-captain Abdiel and brother Lieth are at rest in the ship's chapel. I would be grateful if two of your astartes would stand vigil until formal rites can be held."
Malthar nodded. "There are just the three astartes aboard?"
The man nodded, face grim, even by Black Templar standards. "Casualties were heavy. Captain Tarken made a single high-speed pass to 'port as many survivors from Implacable as she could. There were few to receive."
Malthar glanced at his own squad. "Volunteers to stand vigil for the Fallen."
All nine stepped forward instantly. "Brothers Agren and Vintnar, you will serve this sacred duty."
Morgan spoke into his vox. "Captain Tarken, will you show the brothers to the chapel?" An acknowledgement came back even as a black-clad woman appeared at the hatchway accompanied by a small girl-child in a white formal robe with a twisted black and silver sash as a belt. The woman nodded to the two astartes and gave a formal salute, leading them into the vessel's interior.
Morgan looked at him. "The Lord Commander must receive these." He indicated a pouch on his belt. "The records of the battle and most recent schematics of the system."
Malthar nodded. "Indeed. My orders are to have Captain Tarken accompany us. The ship's captain's perspective will be valuable."
Morgan gave a slight smile. "Indeed, brother-sergeant. Captain Tarken is an exceptional woman."
They waited in silence for a few minutes.
Malthar listened to his marine's report. "Clean but barely used, with ancient First Founding chapter banners and several unknown insignia? Indeed? Five dead? Very well. Touch nothing. Remain on station and report." He turned to his squad. "Brother Destin, brother Kavin, you will remain here on guard duty. No-one is to enter this ship without the express permission of the Lord Commander. Brother-sergeant Morgan, your weapons please."
The other looked at him questioningly for a long moment, then nodded, handing a well-cared-for bolter and old-fashioned combat blade over without saying a word. The woman and child appeared again at the top of the ramp and walked down with a confidence he doubted they felt. The child looked up at the marines surrounding her with a bright smile.
"Are we going with you, Mr Morgan?"
Morgan nodded. "Yes, Janey. Your mother's testimony of our actions and the fight will be helpful to the Ultramarines."
The child nodded, apparently unbothered by the proximity of six Ultramarine warriors. "Okay. Are we going now?"
Malthar simply indicated they should start walking, his squad taking up guarding positions as they headed for the Thunderhawk that would take them to the fortress monastery.
"You had better strap yourself in, captain, Janey," said Morgan. The girl grinned at him.
"These seats are too big for me," she laughed, bubbly and excited. She plumped herself down on her mother's lap, giggling despite her best attempts to stop it. For the first time in Malthar's two-century-long memory they were accompanied in flight by a tiny girl-child who laughed so much she almost bounced out of her seat in excitement. Even his experienced squad were having trouble not smiling at her infectious enjoyment, and he noted the mysterious astartes Morgan's amusement with a certain irritation. But the flight was soon over and they landed neatly at entrance four. He noted that none of his passengers – prisoners? – made any effort to hide their expressions.
"Impressive, brother-sergeant," said the marine, looking up at massive towers of golden stone and the great blue and white banners. "The iron fist has rarely had such a velvet glove. I would wager that even great Dorn himself would have had trouble taking this place."
Malthar nodded, managing not to look pleased at the compliment; Rogal Dorn, Primarch of the Imperial Fists and their successor chapters, the Black Templars and Crimson Fists, had long been acknowledged as the premier siege-master in Imperial history.
"Captain Tarken, you and your daughter will accompany brother Lehrman. You will wait until the Lord Commander has spoken with brother-sergeant Morgan."
They both nodded and followed the blond marine.
"Sergeant, if you would?" Malthar indicated the door, where two Ultramarines stood guard. They walked through it and down the immaculate corridors towards the minor council chamber and Lord Commander Marneus Calgar.
"Please wait in here, captain. I doubt it will take long before you are sent for. There is a devotive through those doors if you wish to offer a prayer to the Emperor for your safe arrival here."
She nodded. "Thank you, astartes. We are honoured by your hospitality." She led her daughter into the room, the little girl giving him a shy smile as he closed the door behind them. He looked at the polished wooden panels and nodded thoughtfully then turned and walked swiftly along the corridors to rejoin his squad.
The room was magnificent, hung with paintings and carpeted thickly in blue with a huge white 'U' in the very centre of the floor. The furniture was clearly designed for normal humans rather than astartes, which Sara had to admit came as something of a relief after being dwarfed on the ship for the last ten months or so. She opened the gleaming door brother Lehrman had indicated; sure enough, it opened onto a beautiful shrine hung with Imperial iconography with a large Ultramarines banner above it. She smiled to Janey.
"I think the Emperor deserves our thanks, don't you?"
"Yes, mummy," said Janey and took up a position of prayer. "Can we say our own prayers?"
"I think that we should. He deserves to know that both of us are grateful."
She nodded. "And the Ultramarines too."
Sara smiled and took a position beside her beloved child.
Brother-sergeant Holchis watched the woman and child as they knelt in front of the small devotive. Although it truly was a revered shrine, it also contained both audio and video pick-ups; more information had been gathered from the shrine than had ever been heard from reluctant guests unwilling to embarrass themselves in front of astartes. He tuned the pick-ups to catch both prayers and listened in attentively.
"...Mr Morgan. Please forgive him for all the bad stuff he did; he really wants to be a good marine again. Thank You for keeping mummy and Mr Morgan safe from the nasty Word Bearers on Haura, and please take the brave man who helped us to rest safe with You. Please take care of Your Black Templars and their friends, and all the people who we weren't in time to rescue. We're so sorry, Lord Emperor. Please give Your blessing to the brave warriors of Your Thirteenth Legion when they go to fight the tirinnids and bring them victory. And Lord Emperor, please help Your son, give him the strength and the grace to fight the daemon that holds him, so that he can come back to You once again.
"Please, Lord Emperor, forgive us our sins and trespasses. We love You and honour You now and forever. Amen."
Word Bearers? Haura? Son? And how in the Emperor's name could a girl-child know the Legion number of the Ultramarines? He opened a channel to the archives.
"How can I serve, brother-sergeant?" answered brother Mikel, who had this duty while he recovered from injuries sustained in a recent action against the orks.
"Brother, can you search for any recent references to conflict on the planet of Haura, and the heretic Word Bearers?"
"Of course, brother-sergeant. I shall have an answer for you within the hour."
"In his Name, brother. Thank you." Holchis clicked off, then thoughtfully played the recording of the woman's prayer.
"Lord Emperor, who protects and guides us, it has been too long since I knelt before your Grace. I pray that I have done right in Your eyes this last year, and that where I have failed to achieve the tasks You set me, You will grant me the strength to try again. Thank You for my beloved Kanret. He was the finest of husbands and I know he is safe in Your Light. I am grateful that he was able to serve You. Thank You for bringing Morgan Sedreth to save my daughter from the Night Lords; I pray You assist him in finding again the path of true Grace in Your name. And thank You for showing the ganger Your truth at the end. I pray that You take that man into Your forgiveness, for he died facing Your enemies and no man can ask a better death. Thank You again, for giving me the courage to face those enemies, and the strength to learn how to defeat them. Most of all, thank You for Janey; she is the greatest gift I could ever ask for.
"Lord Emperor, forgive us our sins and trespasses. We love and honour You now and forever. Amen."
Night Lords? Who were these people? He thought for a second then put through a call to his captain.
"Brother-captain, you had better hear this."
Sedreth stood easily before the seated captains, watching the screen as the battle unfolded. As it ended there was a long silence. The grizzled figure of Marneus Calgar, Lord Commander of the Ultramarines, stood slowly.
"What were the casualties, brother-sergeant Morgan?"
"Seven strike cruisers, their crews, the station, its governor, and around twenty thousand colonists. The planet will be uninhabitable for several centuries due to the power plant detonation. Also, seven companies of Black Templars astartes, to a man."
There was a profound silence at that last. Seven companies, out of the ten available to a typical chapter, could cause its extinction. That the Black Templars had several crusading companies, each of around a thousand marines, did not entirely lessen the blow. Seven hundred space marines was a grievous loss to the Imperium.
"And captain Tarken teleported you off the Implacable?"
"Captain Tarken made one high-speed pass and teleported everyone whose signal she could catch from Implacable, Lord Commander. It was deeply unfortunate that brother-captain Abdiel was in contact with a carnifex at that precise moment."
"The same carnifex which is currently being dissected by our apothecaries?"
"Yes, Lord Commander."
"Who killed it?"
"I did, Lord Commander. But I was too late to prevent it killing brother-captain Abdiel and brother Lieth."
Calgar nodded slowly. "I have ordered the fleet to prepare. We shall exterminate these foul xenos and avenge your brothers."
Sedreth bowed slightly in acknowledgement.
"There is," went on the Ultramarines' commander, "another matter, however. The ship Eyes of the Phoenix. What do you know of it?"
"It is very old. Captain Tarken was granted title to it as salvage after it was found drifting and abandoned. It is a warship, of a type no longer produced."
"Indeed it is. Two of my techmarines visited the ship and examined it. Its machine spirit was, they tell me, less than helpful. Nonetheless, they noted that its dedication plate was still intact." He took out a small sheet of parchment and read aloud. "Eyes of the Phoenix, epsilon-76, 0001-delta, 29-sigma, gamma-79."
Calgar looked at him with an unreadable gaze. Sedreth smiled briefly. "Lord Commander, I am far too old to play games. The ship's name is Eyes of the Phoenix. The ship-code epsilon-76 indicates a Raptor-class strike destroyer. The planetary origin indicates it was built on Mars, and the fourth pairing that it was assigned as an astartes ship during the 29th millennium. The final alphanumeric, as you well know, indicates the chapter and company, or in this case combat century, to which the ship was assigned. Each astartes chapter has an appropriate letter from the ancient alphabet known as Greek. That of the Ultramarines, for example is nu, the thirteenth letter of that alphabet, for the Thirteenth Legion Astartes, which you were. All successor chapters of yours likewise have the same letter in their ship registrations. The gamma indicates the Legion number that this ship was assigned to."
Calgar nodded. "Which means?"
"Gamma is the third letter of the alphabet. Which means that it was assigned to the 79th Century of the Third Legion Astartes. As one could guess from the ship's name, if one considered for a few moments. The phoenix was the chosen symbol of the Third Legion's Primarch."
All the captains were on their feet now, but he had to give them credit; their discipline held. Calgar raised a hand and they relaxed, one by one into their chairs. Half a dozen Ultramarines Terminators stepped out of the shadows at the room's edges.
Sedreth chuckled wryly. "Lord Commander, there is no subterfuge here. That tyranid fleet exists."
Calgar nodded. "We know. A trader-ship arrived in system less than five minutes ago with refugees from the mining colony. The question is, 'Morgan' who are you? You are not a Black Templar, though you wear their arms."
"A regrettable necessity, Lord Commander. I have no wish to dishonour the sons of Rogal Dorn. But had I worn my own colours, I would have been killed on sight before I could pass the message to you. Unless Imperial policy has changed regarding my Legion?"
"Which is? For the record."
"I am astartes-sergeant Morgan Sedreth, 79th Century, Emperor's Children." The sound of bolters being racked was suddenly loud. He didn't move except to continue as if nothing had happened, "I am the last astartes of the Third Legion. My former brethren can no longer be described as astartes, or indeed, in many cases, human."
Calgar nodded, slowly, satisfied. "And the woman and child?"
"They were attacked by some Night Lords I was hunting. I either left them to the less than gentle mercies of the Inquisition, or I gave them refuge. I chose the latter."
"And what of the accursed Word Bearers?"
"An action on Haura. We destroyed one of their temples, and their congregation. As your archives must have discovered by now."
"We?" said one of the captains, grey-haired and cold-eyed.
"Sara, captain Tarken that is, killed one of their chaplains, and a heavy weapons marine."
"You expect us to believe that a woman with little or no weapons training killed a black chaplain?"
He laughed. "Of course not; I would not expect you to believe anything I say, now that you know who I am. But it is truth nonetheless. Now, since I presume you're going to kill me, shall we be about it? I am a hundred centuries out of time and death would be a welcome release."
Calgar looked at him and lifted his hand. Sedreth stood quietly, lifting his chin to offer a better target. So this is how it ends, he thought.
"Cease!" The voice came from one the librarians, a huge man in his blue terminator armour. His staff glowed that same bright blue and his voice seemed to echo.
"Marneus Calgar, in thou am I well pleased." The words seemed to come from everywhere at once, massive and powerful. He realised with a shock that every single librarian in the room was speaking at the same time. The massive golden aquila on the chamber wall was glowing with that same impossible light. More heraldry started to shine, icons and symbols glowing brighter and brighter as marines fell to their knees one by one.
"Thou shalt lead My Ultramarines into battle on Caltenis, and thou shalt be Triumphant. Morgan Sedreth, thy task is not yet ended. Thy penance shall be great and thy life the cost of it, yet am I merciful. Thou shalt abide here until My fleet does return Victorious. Ready thyself, for I shall test thee and thine. Know, My Ultramarines, that though he now sleeps, My Son Robouté shalt restored be to Me." It rose to a shattering volume, rippling like a wind through every cell in his body, "AND THE CHILD'S PRAYER IS ANSWERÉD!"
It filled his head, his mind, and he was no longer in the room, but looking down on billions of stars surrounding by uncounted flames, red and blue and white and green. Novae flew to meet him and he saw a wan pale light, guttering and almost defeated, on a small planet far away in the Eye. He knew that soul, instant kinship, felt anew the anguish he had felt in the eldar temple. My Primarch. A golden blaze filled his very being and the light suddenly shone like a star, bright and defiant within the sickly purple that surrounded it. Then he was on his knees on the stone floor, tears pouring down his face as a deep voice started to sing, the ancient hymn swiftly joined by the assembled astartes, in the room and right across the fortress monastery, then by pilgrims and citizens across the world. He knew that every shrine in every cathedral and church on the planet glowed cold with the same light that burned through his mind, that millions of people were on their knees in a mass transport of joy, that that great mass of humanity sang with one voice, that somewhere far away even the terrible hunger of the hive-mind flinched and knew fear. The fleet of Ultramar came to full power without any order being given, the very ships shining like suns, and the chapter's dreadnoughts woke as one, surging to mechanical feet with a single mighty roar of defiance. He knew the Ultramarines, each and every one; saw the Throne of the Primarch glowing with the light of a thousand stars, then there was only the great clamour of bells, echoing endless triumph.
Slowly he stood, barely aware. Around him, equally slowly, Ultramarines rose from their prayers, eyes shining with devotion. He looked down at himself. The black was gone, his armour restored to its codex colours, the great pinion of Sanguinius anchored firmly on his shoulder-plate where it glowed as if alive. He raised his head, met the tear-filled gaze of the Lord Commander of the Ultramarines. His fist came to his chest in instinctive salute. Sedreth remained at attention as, one by one, the captains and librarians and Terminators left the room, leaving him alone.