Katrin Verstark lay where she had fallen behind the auxiliary scan console. Just feet away she could see Lieutenant Hethlin's dead eyes, the bright brown dulled with anoxia. She tried to close her ears to the screams coming from the captain's command throne, where Captain Stolle was laughingly raping his second-in-command, Commander Casoblien. She wondered why she was still alive; the intruders must have missed her. Emperor, what were they? What was happening?
She tried to think through what had happened. So fast. One moment they'd been operating as normal, the next that ship had opened fire on a small cloaked vessel at low polar anchor. There'd been flares of light and huge armoured figures had appeared as if by magic, teleported aboard. Then there was just the thunder of gunfire, confused screams and pain and blackness. She'd been shot, she thought. A laser bolt, not the explosive rounds that had ripped Hethlin's chest open in a spray of viscera and gore. Must have been one of the crew; she must have lost consciousness.
A dreadful voice echoed across the bridge, rough and passionate and devouring. "Captain, when you're finished with your amusements, we have a mission to complete. The Exalted Eidolon does not appreciate dalliance."
Stolle's reply was casual. "Of course, Lord." A loud slap followed by a gasp of pain. "Shut up, you. Would one of your brothers care to keep my little prize here safe and sound while I open a channel to the enemy? We may as well keep them quiescent at dock for a few moments longer."
The voice laughed, a hideous cruelty of satisfaction. "An excellent idea. You will be a fine addition to the Legion's battle-fleet, captain."
Stolle's laugh was equally smug. "I have looked forward to it for decades. Matreg, open a channel to the Inquisitor's ship. And make sure the vid shows only me, not any of our friends. Or I will be displeased."
Lieutenant Matreg's familiar voice was utterly normal. "Yes, captain."
Sara came back onto the bridge as Janey was operating the teleport. She slid into her command chair and read off the scan information. A light came on. "We're being hailed. INS Golden Dawn." She opened the channel.
A florid-faced greying man in Imperial Naval uniform looked out at her. "Captain Stolle, here, Imperial Navy, for Lord Inquisitor Gustavus."
"I'm afraid Lord Gustavus is still on-world, captain. I am captain Sara Tarken. Can I assist you?"
"I see. You can remain at dock, captain. I shall be sending men across to discuss your actions shortly."
Sara nodded. "Of course, captain Stolle. We shall await your arrival. His Grace on you. Eyes of the Phoenix out." She cut the channel and looked around the bridge.
"Is it just me, or did that not seem quite right?"
"It is not just you, Sara," rumbled Sedreth's deep bass. "Janey, what is their course?"
"They're taking a standard lane towards the station, with INS Tenryu and a large freighter, Mr Morgan. ETA twenty-seven minutes."
"A freighter?"
She nodded. "It was sort of just within lane discipline earlier, but now it seems to be under escort from the two warships. But there's been no signal about it."
"There's no reason they should have signalled, of course. Any coded traffic?"
Janey nodded. "Yes, Mr Morgan. But we don't have access to Imperial Navy codes."
"Inquisitors do." He reached for the internal comms. "Captain Ignatius? Can you and sergeant Meleriex come to the bridge please? We may have a problem."
Neither Ignatius nor Meleriex reacted much to Sedreth and Sara's armour colours, the captain's eyes merely widening a fraction and the Raven Guard's stoic demeanour appearing, very briefly, almost satisfied.
"What problem, captain?"
Sara indicated the main viewer, where the three approaching ships were moving in leisurely formation towards the station.
"Can you decode what they're saying?"
Ignatius looked puzzled. "Why? Don't you trust the Imperial Navy, captain?"
She felt a tight grin pull at her face. "I don't trust anyone, brother-captain. Except the Emperor's astartes. Mostly."
"Mostly?"
"I, we, have more reason than most to know that even the space marines are not infallible. However, that's beside the point. The behaviour of that Navy squadron is unusual. We survive, in part, by not trusting the unusual, captain."
He looked at her for a long moment. "Patch me the transmissions."
She nodded to Janey, who worked her controls easily and naturally. After a few moments, Ignatius face took on a puzzled expression.
"Those transmissions do not match any in my systems. Meleriex?"
"I concur, captain. You are certain this is correct, child?"
Janey nodded.
"Then they are not current, or even out of date, Naval codes. If anything, I'd suggest, brother-captain, that they are astartes codes. But not ones I recognise."
Sara felt herself pale as she looked at Sedreth. The big Terminator was on his feet, face grim.
"Janey, run decoding patterns gamma-four through seven. Put it on the speakers."
There was a series of clicks and crackles and hisses for several minutes then a sudden voice came clearly through, a cruel, horrific parody of human speech. "...inates for boarding action. Remember, Exalted Eidolon wants that ship intact and its crew alive, if possible. The traitor must pay for his apostasy."
"In Slaanesh's glorious name, Lord. For the Emperor."
Sedreth's face was a snarl. "I know that voice. The Emperor's Children. They'll tear the system apart once they're finished with us. If they win. Emergency undock, Sara, to hell with the umbilicals. Give me comm, Janey. You two had better ready your weapons and warn the Inquisitor; we're about to have unpleasant visitors."
Ignatius and Meleriex were already racking bolters, their faces cold. Janey reached for her own bolt pistol and slammed a round into the chamber before clipping it back in position and opening the main channel.
Sedreth's voice was calm, even conversational. "This is brother-sergeant Morgan Sedreth aboard Eyes of the Phoenix, calling captain Kaeseron on Golden Dawn. It's been a long time, Julius. Are you still Eidolon's lapdog, then? Did he honestly think a decadent jackass like you could take me? Or was he just too cowardly to face me himself?"
There was a few seconds of stark silence as Sedreth's voice interrupted the coded transmissions. Then the terrible voice answered, reverberating with anger. "Your death will last an eternity, Sedreth. My word on it."
"You always did talk a good fight. Pity you and your company could never back it up." Sedreth's tone was contemptuous even if his expression was anything but.
The answer dripped with venomous purpose. "You will have the opportunity to see exactly how well my company fights, traitor. Once we have done with you we shall ensure you have the best possible view as we remind these pathetic mortals which power truly rules the cosmos."
Sara cut umbilicals and grapples, bringing the engines to maximum in defiance of half a hundred safety regulations. Janey was flicking switches, bringing shields, Geller fields and targeting scans live. Sedreth was likewise at weapons control, causing the familiar faint rumble as the heavily armoured gunnery shields retracted to reveal Phoenix's massive broadside.
Ignatius was talking rapidly into his vox, updating Lord Gustavus on the developing crisis. He reached for a vox pickup and Janey opened the general system hail without missing a beat.
Sara saw the system channel monitor on her left come to life and the ominous black-armoured Deathwatch captain appear. "This is brother-captain Ignatius, on behalf of Lord Inquisitor Rein Gustavus of the Ordo Malleus, to all ships and personnel in the Meyis system. The vessels INS Golden Dawn and INS Tenryu, together with the freighter Prosperity's Luck, are under control of traitors and to be considered hostile. All loyal vessels are ordered to open fire on these ships with all available weaponry. If by any chance there remain loyal warriors of His Glorious Majesty the Emperor aboard any of the three named vessels, you are ordered to fight to the last against the heretics who have taken your ship. Meyis station, you are ordered in the Emperor's name to open fire with all weapons against the named vessels. His Light be on you all."
Immediately the comms channels erupted with transmissions, ship captains, station military, and civilian and downworld authorities demanding answers. She ignored the babble, leaving it to the space marine, and punched in the main drives, accelerating them away from the vulnerable docks.
"Bastard," cursed one of the armoured warriors. "He dares to defy the Children? Lord, he must pay in suffering."
"Are you telling me my business, Selek?" asked the terrifying figure in the command throne, its voice the more terrifying for the tone of mild inquiry.
"No, Lord. I merely thirst for vengeance on the traitor." The chaos marine's trepidation was clear even through the calmness of his response. Katrin wondered how awful the commander must be to terrify even these monsters. She carefully, centimetre by centimetre, slipped her sidearm from its holster. There was no chance of killing an armoured space marine with it, she knew, but maybe she might get a chance at the traitorous swine who had been her captain.
"Lord, they are sending out a general broadcast."
"On screen."
She heard the deep calm voice. The Ordo Malleus! Perhaps there was a chance if the Inquisition had astartes too.
A terrifying laugh. "So, Sedreth has found himself some allies, more deluded and foolish servants of the corpse-emperor. A Deathwatch kill-team, no less. Almost worthy opposition. How long before we are in teleport range?"
"They are attempting to move away from us, Lord. It will be insufficient, but will delay our reaching teleport range by several minutes."
"That was not my question, mortal."
Matreg's voice trembled. "No, Lord. Estimate another twelve minutes. Prosperity's Luck has not the in-system drives to reduce that time."
"We do."
"Yes, Lord. If we increase to maximum velocity, we can be in range in perhaps four minutes."
"Then do so. But first, 'port two more squads here. Your crew still may harbour thoughts of resistance, captain Stolle. The Emperor's Children will ensure such thoughts are forgotten."
The Emperor's Children?! Why would followers of chaos call themselves by such a name?
"Lord, the enemy have opened fire on Tenryu."
"Then return fire, idiot."
"We are not in range yet, Lord. Another few seconds. Tenryu has opened fire."
Reti watched in horror as a full-scale firefight erupted in the system. He had watched and listened as the space marine captain had called on all loyal citizens to fight against the heretics, but he could barely believe that the Golden Dawn was a traitor vessel. It had been stationed at Meyis for more than half a century, and had a long-standing training arrangement with the local Naval Academy.
Supervisor Plortis had taken one look at the broadcast message and dashed off somewhere. Reti hesitated at his controls, unsure what to do.
The comm light came on, audio only. He pushed the switch. A desperate voice came over the pick-up.
"This is petty officer Angers on INS Tenryu. We have been boarded by chaos marines. Request immediate ass.." There was sudden roar of gunfire and the transmission cut off with a scream.
Reti winced. He had friends aboard that ship. Men and women he'd known at school. He squared his shoulders and reached for the emergency lap belt. He knew what to do now.
"Lord, the station just raised its defensive systems. Its shields are not at full power yet, but they are building rapidly."
"Ignore it. No space station can be defended against my warriors. Prepare for boarding. I want the traitor. Alive, if possible."
"Lord Gustavus, we are taking minor fire, but will be in a position to 'port you and Sigurd aboard in three minutes."
"Negative, Ignatius. Can you instead send us aboard the traitor ship? There may still be loyalist crew fighting. We owe it to them to assist if possible."
Sedreth cut in. "Lord Gustavus, that's Julius Kaeseron on Golden Dawn. I've known him since the Great Crusade. He will have a whole company with him, possibly more. And they will not have taken noticeable casualties taking a light ship like that one. Especially with inside help. Sending you aboard would be suicide. More to the point, it would be militarily futile."
"We cannot abandon loyal Imperial warriors to the senseless sadism of your former brethren, Sedreth. That was not a request."
"Then at least wait until they board us."
"What?"
"I know Julius. He'll want to make it close and personal. Even if those two ships he has could take us, which I doubt, he will want to get aboard and kill me face to face. He and his warriors will board as soon as they're in range to do so. That will leave only a few for you and Sigurd to deal with. You might be able to take the bridge; they'll have to drop any preventative measures they may have put up long enough to 'port themselves here."
"Very well. Do it that way."
"When you meet the Emperor, Inquisitor, you'll be able to stand proud."
"Mr Morgan, Geller fields are ready on your mark."
"Are we in range?"
"Yes, Mr Morgan. Energy build-up on Golden Dawn. I think they're getting ready to 'port a lot of marines."
"Full power to the fields in one minute, Janey."
"Firing solution on the Tenryu. Full lances."
"Direct hit. She's venting plasma. Rolling to present a different shield."
"Lord, Prosperity's Luck just took a direct hit from the station weapons. Her drives are damaged."
"She has served her purpose. Transport the remaining warriors aboard Tenryu. They are to take the station."
"Yes, Lord. Teleport to Eyes of the Phoenix in thirty seconds."
"Now, Janey. Geller fields on full."
"On full, Mr Morgan."
"Sara, evasive manoeuvres."
"Teleport flares in all sections. We're being boarded."
"Janey, 'port the Lord Inquisitor."
"Teleport flares on decks six, nine, eleven and fifteen, Mr Morgan. Teleporting Lord Gustavus and brother Sigurd now."
"Firing solution on INS Tenryu. Starboard broadside locked. Shoot."
"Seven direct hits. Her shields are down and the hull is open to vacuum."
The screens flared. "This is brother-captain Ignatius to Meyis station. Good shooting."
"INS Tenryu destroyed."
Katrin bit back a whimper as flares of light engulfed the bridge and more grotesque black-and-pastel figures appeared.
"Stolle, maintain the action. Take out that station's weapons. The Children have other prey."
"Yes, lord. As you command."
More flares of light and most of the armoured monsters in her restricted view vanished.
A third set of flares and a bellow. A human bellow. "In His Glorious Name! Death to all heretics!" The bridge echoed to the thunder of weapons and she dared look up.
A massive black-armoured figure stood just a metre from her, a huge weapon juddering in his hands. "For Russ and the Emperor!" Beside him a second armoured man, this time in crimson bearing the aquila and hammer of the Inquisition on his shoulder plate, bellowed defiance while pouring shots into an unseen target.
The Inquisitor, and a loyal marine? But how? It didn't matter. She pulled herself to her knees, raising her side-arm painfully. Lieutenant Matreg fired a shot, which bounced off the marine's armour, and ducked back quickly behind a console, his back to her. She took careful aim and squeezed the trigger, the point-blank blast tearing a smoking hole in his chest. Matreg died without ever knowing who had shot him. She looked for another target amidst the confusion.
"For the Emperor!"
She didn't understand why the traitor marines had that warcry, but it was obvious that there were too many of them for the brave Inquisitor and his companion to handle alone. She grimaced. They were not alone. For what good it was, they had her. She fired her pistol at the horrific unarmoured face of an enemy, burning the bald pink head to the bone and severing one of the long tentacles that fringed it instead of hair. The warrior turned his remaining eye on her with an awful hatred but was blasted backwards in bloody ruin by a thunderous burst of bolter fire.
"INKAMETIBNKASIET!" bellowed the Inquisitor, and the traitor marines screamed in rage and pain, staggering backwards as if stunned. The black-armoured astartes took full advantage, killing three of them in an eyeblink. But one, a massive warrior with an evilly glowing sword, lunged forward to engage the Inquisitor. The remaining two leapt for his companion, one of them casually kicking her in the ribcage as he passed and sending her flying across the bridge, horribly certain that her ribs were broken. She slammed into a console and felt something give painfully in her left shoulder; her vision blurred with pain as she tried to focus on the fight.
"For the Emperor! For Holy Terra and humanity!" Gustavus roared, as he engaged the enemy champion. Astartes or not, the traitor was going to fall before him. A dazzling riposte from the other's blade drove it deep into his side, cutting through his blessed armour like it was cheese. He grabbed the blade with all his strength, ignoring the pain, and swung hard and accurately, the relic edge severing the man's sword-arm. Blood as black as pitch poured out and the warrior bellowed in fury, pulling a bolt pistol from his belt and pouring shots into the crimson Inquisition battle-plate.
"Not good enough, traitor," he managed, thrusting his powersword through the monster's chest-plate with all the strength he had left. The traitor marine howled, still shooting despite the terrible injuries. What did it take to kill the thing? He twisted his blade and the warrior shuddered and spasmed.
An arm wrapped round his throat from behind. "You're not spoiling my chance of power, Inquisitor," came a voice in his ear and something hard and sharp drove into his neck. The last thing he saw in life was the familiar blinding blue light of a las-pistol burst; the last he heard was the scream of agony in his ear as the man who'd stabbed him took the focussed energy beam right in his face. Then there was pain, then quiet as the light turned gold. 'My Emperor.'
Sigurd drove his combat blade through the second marine's gorget, ripping a huge tear in the man's throat and dropping him in a welter of blood and arterial gore. A chainsword slammed down into his shoulder-plate, shattering it, but the armour did its job enough for him to knock the whirring teeth aside before he was injured. He grappled the swordsman, knocking the weapon from the other's hand but losing his own. They rolled across the blood-slicked metal deck-plates, punching and gouging in elemental fury.
Unfortunately for the traitor, Space Wolves spent long hours practising wrestling and unarmed combat. Sigurd smashed his helmet into the other's, not to stun – that would not happen to an armoured warrior – but to get underneath, for leverage. His mighty arms followed up the blow, gripping under the ceramite and forcing the head back. And back.
Ignoring the massive blows to his sides and head, blows that cracked armour, he forced the other's head back and up. The blows became feebler and the other's hands pulled desperately at his arms in a futile attempt to relieve the horrific pressure. Even an astartes' neck couldn't take that for long, and there was a satisfying crack as it finally broke. Sigurd thrust the man off him, and pulled his bolt pistol, firing two shots deliberately into the traitor's head, then turned in time to see Lord Gustavus collapse with a knife in the throat. A las-pistol shot took the man on his back in the face and he glanced across to see a red-haired woman in a blood-stained Navy sub-lieutenant's uniform slump slowly to the deck. Gustavus' last opponent, a huge champion, trembled and shook in a vain attempt to rise, then lay still, the relic blade still embedded in its chest.
Damnation. He hefted his heavy bolter and checked the ammunition. More than sixty percent. Good. He'd need it. He tongued the vox, noting as he did so that his armour was red-lighted in several places.
"Captain Ignatius. Brother Sigurd reports that he holds the bridge of the Golden Dawn, but Lord Gustavus was killed in the fight. He requests instructions."
Ignatius received the news without emotion. That either of his colleagues had survived to win the fight was more than anyone could have hoped for. "Have him set the vessel for self-destruct. He is to hold the bridge as long as he can to prevent the enemy overriding the destruct command."
The girl's voice came back. "Yes, captain. I'll keep a lock on him and 'port him out at destruct minus five seconds."
Ignatius smiled inside his helmet. "Do that." He glanced at the big Terminator walking beside him.
"Lord Gustavus was killed. Sigurd will set self-destruct and hold the bridge as long as he can."
"Janey will 'port him, and Lord Gustavus' remains, off if she can." said the smallest of the little group. Tarken had insisted on coming with them – 'It's my ship, captain, and if anyone is going to defend it, it's me.' Shere, unable to walk let alone fight, was in the pilot's chair in her place, pumped full of painkillers but able to control course and speed. The captain hoped the woman would not be a liability but he had been forced to accede; they needed every bolter they had. There were at least thirty Emperor's Children traitors aboard. Six to one. Ignatius was under no illusions about their chances.