Storm of Damocles Page 12

  Ch’an’s eyes were wide with passion. ‘Yes!’ he hissed. ‘The ignorance!’

  As the food sharing hall emptied, Sham’bal called for a jug of wine and laid out two small ceremonial cups.

  ‘We should drink to remember our old fellows,’ he said, and poured two cups.

  They drank them back and poured two more.

  When they reached the bottom of the pot, Ch’an started a song. The words were his own, set to an ancient Elsy’eir tune. They spoke of hope and light, when the darkness and stupidity pressed close. Sham’bal picked up as Ch’an sang the chorus, and the hall fell silent as all the warriors listened to the song. One by one, like a flame being passed from one candle to another, each of the warriors sang the melody. Even the earth caste servants came out of the kitchens and hung their heads with strange and rare emotions.

  Tomorrow, Ch’an swore, he would get back into the Stormsurge, and he would not fail.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Shipmaster Ferral brought the news of their successful translation directly to Nergui’s chamber. Kill Team Faith kept to their own decks for the two weeks it took the strike cruiser Nemesis to make the warp jump. The corridors of the Space Marine quarters were silent, except for the thud of a distant boltgun.

  Nergui’s chambers were at the base of the bridge, looking out over the dorsal lance batteries. She felt her pulse rising as she turned left from the lift and tapped gently on his door. It opened in moments, Nergui’s black-armoured shape filling the doorway.

  It always surprised her, when she had been away for more than a few weeks – the size and proportions of the Adeptus Astartes. She flinched.

  His voice was a deep rumble. ‘Shipmaster.’

  For a moment she forgot why she had come, and then it came out in a rush. ‘We have made contact with the Valete. They report the insertion successful.’

  ‘Thank you, shipmaster,’ Nergui said. ‘Has Batbayar’s Northwind arrived yet?’

  ‘Not yet, sire.’

  ‘Let me know as soon as that happens. Until then, we remain in blackout.’

  ‘Yes, sire,’ she said, and the door closed.

  Two days later, the Northwind exited the warp with a sudden flash of blue energy, her gun batteries and launch bays wreathed in tendrils of warp energy as she hit real space. Shipmaster Ferral brought the Nemesis alongside the Northwind, and when the two strike cruisers – one black, one white – came to within a hundred miles of each other, a black Thunderhawk launched from the Nemesis, bound for the White Scars.

  On board, Nergui was tense at the thought of returning to his brothers’ craft.

  He had enjoyed it too much, he thought, and the voice of his mother in the catacombs of Picket’s Watch had woken memories he had thought long forgotten.

  The Thunderhawk landed in the same bay as before, but now the White Scars Thunderhawks had gone, and there was only the venerable Fire Raptor, Obos, with attentive servitors milling along her fuselage. As Nergui came down the assault ramp, Ganzorig strode out to greet him. If there were any hard feelings between Nergui and the Red Tangut they appeared to have been buried.

  ‘Welcome, captain,’ the White Scar said. ‘The khan is eager to see you. He asked me to tell you to come to the Eyrie. I can summon a servo-skull to show you the way’

  Nergui marched into the White Scars ship. ‘No. I know the way.’

  The Eyrie was a nickname Nergui and Batbayar had for the observation tower that rose up behind the bridge. It was the highest point you could reach on a strike cruiser. You could look back over the engines, into the darkness of space, or forwards along the spine of the craft, or out to either side, over the gun batteries. It was Nergui’s favourite place on a cruiser – a place where he could stand and watch and think.

  Batbayar had clearly remembered this.

  The White Scars he passed did not even give him a second glance. It was as if they could see through the black on his armour to the white beneath. As if they had accepted him as one of their own.

  Nergui thought the guards on the bridge lift would say something, but they stood aside and let him pass. He entered the lift and punched in the access code, and felt himself being carried up through the decks, past the bridge access point, up to the observation tower.

  The lift opened out into the centre of a small domed chamber. Thirty feet across, the armourglass gave clear visibility overhead as well as below, the floor plates affording a viewer the odd sensation of walking in space.

  Batbayar stood with his back to the lift. He was alone, except for a pair of servo-skulls that hovered in the air behind him.

  ‘Ah!’ the khan said as Nergui entered. ‘You were right. There’s nothing better after the claustrophobia of a warp jump than standing here and feeling the openness of the galaxy all about you.’

  Nergui joined him and they stood staring out into the darkness. Somewhere, ahead of them, lay their target.

  ‘So,’ Batbayar said, ‘what news?’

  ‘Our advance teams are already on the planet. They will prepare the ground and when all is ready we attack. Not until then, understand?’

  ‘Of course,’ Batbayar said. He tapped his thigh with a gauntleted hand. ‘Have they found Shadowsun?’

  ‘Not yet,’ Nergui said.

  ‘I can just see Kor’sarro’s face!’ He chuckled to himself. ‘It will be a great aid for our Chapter, if I bring our leader home as well. If I bring you home too… Nergui Khan’s return would be a boon in our hour of need.’

  Nergui laid out a map of the planet before them. ‘The production facility is here,’ he said. He pointed to a plateau near the northern pole of the planet. ‘The camp lies in the middle of this valley. On each of these crags there are NG-4 planetary defence platforms. We will deal with these. There are six hunter cadres with strong air support. I will lead the attack on the landing port. There are vespid warriors here, and a kroot camp here. Their threat is not negligible.’

  ‘How many battlesuits?’ asked Batbayer

  ‘Thirty suits of various classes, as well as the larger, newer ones in production’

  ‘A hundred?’

  ‘Yes. They are your target. The production facility here.’

  If Batbayar was intimidated by this he did not show it. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘We will sear it from the galaxy. Is it protected?’

  ‘We will destroy the generators. There are a number of possible routes of attack. Our team have disabled a route along here.’ Nergui traced a line along the planet.

  Batbayar looked at the other with barely suppressed amusement. ‘You have spent too long with the Deathwatch, my friend. Remember how you used to lead your company to battle, with drop pods and assault squads raining from the sky? Tell me, does the eagle still fly?’

  ‘I fly,’ Nergui said.

  ‘Join us then! Fly with our warriors as we plummet from the sky! We shall draw chainswords together once more.’

  There was a long pause. Nergui laughed. ‘That would be fine, wouldn’t it? Black and white together!’

  ‘You see it too!’ The khan paced up and down, extoling the virtues of battle and combat, and the ways of the White Scars. Then he grabbed Nergui’s hand. ‘Paint your armour white!’ The khan was serious. ‘My Techmarines are ready. They can do what must be done. Come out of the shadows. Black is not a colour for a White Scar. It is the colour of hiding. Of shadows. It is the colour of burned timbers. Of the exhaust smoke that we leave in our wake. Wear white once more. I will give you command of the Fourth Company.’

  Nergui took a deep breath to answer but Batbayar held up a hand. ‘Do not answer. But think on it. Swing your sword with us. Kill the foes with us. Hunt them. Add the roar of your bike to our charge. Where is Ganbold? How your bike must miss the company of our bikes. Is it not alone?’

  Nergui smiled as he imagined his own return. Part of him wished
for nothing more… ‘I heard my mother’s voice a month ago,’ he said.

  Batbayar looked at him. ‘Your mother?’

  Nergui nodded. ‘She was calling me. I was in the Empty Lands, standing with the goats as my father mounted up. I was trying to lift a kid that was too weak to suckle, and she called out to me, “shao-shao!”’

  Batbayar frowned as his amusement turned to concern. He snorted, ‘I don’t even remember which of my father’s wives was my mother!’

  ‘Of course it was not really her. The memory was prompted by a psychic presence,’ Nergui said. ‘But it was a true memory.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘I have not thought of Chogoris for a long time. I hope I see it before I die. Of course my mother will be dead. My whole family will have died out a hundred years ago. But that is not why I hope to return. I would like to see my tribe once more, the Chaoge. When I think of fighting the aliens, it is the Chaoge I think of. Not hive slummers or agri worlds, or even the marble arcades of Ultramar. I think of my people, picking their way from summer pasture to winter hole, herding their grox. And it is them I fight for.’

  ‘Then come back with me! After this is over. Come back to Chogoris!’

  Nergui had to force the words out. ‘I cannot join you.’

  ‘Cannot, or will not?’

  ‘I have sworn a vow, and until that is complete I cannot leave the Deathwatch.’

  ‘What is the vow?’

  ‘I cannot say.’

  Batbayar let out a shout of anger and frustration. ‘I come to the aid of your brothers. Will you not do me the small honour of returning to us?’

  ‘I will do all that I can,’ Nergui said, but Batbayar cursed in frustration – and the black and the white moved apart.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ch’an was furious as he limped towards Commander M’au’s office.

  The guard stepped before him. ‘Shas’vre Ch’an. Should you not be teaching our cadets?’

  Ch’an tried to go round him but the guards reacted quickly, blocking the door, so he shouted over their heads.

  A shadow appeared, as Commander M’au made his way from his office to the door. He acted surprised to see Ch’an here, and made a point of checking his chronometer. ‘This morning you are scheduled to be instructing Cohort Ar on the gue’la strategies.’

  Ch’an nodded. ‘Yes, honourable one. I have asked Sham’bal to perform this duty for me.’

  ‘If I wanted Sham’bal to teach Cohort Ar, then I would have scheduled that myself,’ M’au said.

  ‘I heard something that I thought was urgent. That there are gue’la on this planet.’

  M’au feigned surprise. ‘Who told you this?’

  ‘You don’t deny it?’

  Fireblade M’au drew himself up. ‘There is nothing to deny. A kroot claimed to have seen one fall from the sky. I have three hunter cadres out searching for it. They have found nothing. No body. No trace. Nothing. Every time the kroot tell me they have seen something it is the same. They are a little unreliable.’

  Ch’an cut him off. ‘This has happened before?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The camp has been discovered?’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘That does not matter.’

  Fireblade M’au’s eyes narrowed. He put his fingers together and nodded slowly. ‘Yes, once. The intruders were eliminated. Last time we sent the cadets straight into battle, but the losses were too high. It is vital that the training and bonding of crews is performed in the correct manner. Most High One Aun’ui Hoo’nan has thought on this most deeply. We have tightened security. Sweeps are being made. All we need is a week, then the training will be finished and the cohort deployed to Mu’gulath Bay. Once your cohort is ready, this base shall be moved again. It is all under control.’

  Ch’an struggled to counter this. He stammered for moment. ‘If there is an intruder then he cannot have flown through space to reach us. It means there is a ship up there. Our enemies are upon us.’

  ‘If there was an intruder then don’t you think we would have found it? We have a Defender patrolling the system, a security orbital above our heads, and the planet is covered with listening devices. You are not afraid, are you? I have heard what happened during the simulation. Maybe you cannot face fighting any more…’

  Ch’an could barely contain his fury. ‘It is not fear that makes me speak, but the vision of victory to which I hold dear. If we have been found we must relocate to a safe location. They will come for us. I have seen them – they are terrible.’

  ‘If,’ Commander M’au repeated Ch’an’s own word. He drew himself up. ‘Ke’lshan Sept has been granted the honour of guarding this facility and we take our duty seriously. I have sent my best hunter cadres out. The kroot too are hunting for signs. If anything landed here, we will find it.

  ‘The Most High One is aware of the risks. A move at this point, when the crews are being bonded, will result in an unacceptable delay. This cadre of pilots and gunners need to be deployed to Mu’gulath Bay. Training will be completed within six days. Until then, the risk is not negligible, but it is acceptable.’ Ch’an started to argue once more and Fireblade M’au bowed suddenly. Aun’ui Hoo’nan was standing in the doorway.

  ‘We have nothing to fear,’ the ethereal said.

  Ch’an opened his mouth. He struggled for a moment, then bowed deeply. ‘Apologies. I did not know that you were aware of this, and that the matter had been considered.’

  ‘Do not feel guilt. We need your wisdom. We need you to lead. By example. Am I right in hearing that you have not yet completed the Mu’gulath Bay simulation?’

  Ch’an shook. ‘Yes,’ he said.

  ‘Please go to Cohort Ar. You have much experience that they will need in the coming battle. I would like you to share that with them. Show them. Lead them. Do the simulation. I have confidence in your abilities.’

  Ch’an’s voice was a croak. ‘Thank you, Most Honoured One. I will be glad to help.’

  Ch’an limped back towards the instructional dome.

  He felt giddy and deflated as he entered the food sharing hall. From the noise, Cohort S’a’an were on the firing range. Cohort Y’ap and Ar had both entered the hall at the same time. Ch’an took his tray and turned, but there was no place for him to sit, and no one made way for him.

  ‘Shas’vre!’ a voice said, and he turned and saw H’an holding an empty tray. ‘I missed you this morning.’

  ‘I was giving a talk to Cohort Ar.’

  H’an nodded and leant in closer to speak. ‘We heard you had gone to see Fireblade M’au.’

  Ch’an felt his hand trembling, and he put his tray down and poured himself a cup of water. ‘I did.’

  ‘Was it about the simulation?’

  ‘No,’ Ch’an said.

  ‘Everyone is talking.’

  ‘About what?’

  H’an didn’t like to say.

  ‘I am no coward,’ Ch’an said.

  ‘I do not think you are, but the Greater Good has been decided.’

  ‘Maybe the Most High One is wrong,’ Ch’an said quietly. H’an’s face blanched for a moment. No one spoke against the ethereals. They were the supreme minds of their society. It was like a well frog trying to speak of the ocean. Mere fire warriors were unable to contemplate such lofty things. He leant forwards and took Ch’an’s three fingers in his own, pressing hard in both warning and concern.

  ‘Please don’t say that again,’ he said.

  Ch’an started to argue, but H’an put up his hand. ‘Promise me you will not say such a thing again…’ He struggled for the words. ‘If you do I will lose all respect for you.’

  As evening fell Ch’an stood in the top chamber of the hab-dome, and looked out from the armourglass windows. All day, security had been visibly tightening. That after
noon the krootox were released. Mobile gun rigs made an ostentatious display as they moved to the high crags on Vespid Rock. Devilfish moved in outer rim defensive patterns, and a Riptide appeared suddenly, its jump pack flaring as it crested the distant ridge, knees bending before it jumped once more, skimming low across the ground.

  Behind him H’an was playing another cadet at sho’gi. The other cadets were crowded round. H’an appeared to be winning. Ch’an listened to their banter with a detached air. He saw his reflection in the oval armourglass window and the sight of his own body shocked him. The galaxy had not been kind to him. It had taken him in its palm and crushed and broken him. And now this was what was left.

  ‘I am tired,’ he said to the others, and took the lift down to his dorm. In the sunken garden, a fire warrior was meditating, and in the lit windows he saw others talking, sleeping, revising for the next day’s exercises. The chime rang for lights out.

  Ch’an turned back to his bunk, but for once sleep did not come. He tossed and turned, let out an irritated sigh, sat up, and walked back to the window.

  H’an heard the door latch click and sat up. Ch’an was gone.

  H’an thought for a moment, and decided that he should follow. He slipped from his bunk and lifted the latch.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The corridor was empty and quiet, apart from the gentle hum of the hab-dome’s generator. There was no sign of Ch’an or any guards. The sunken garden was empty. The lift door stood open, the lights dimmed, unused.

  H’an felt his panic growing as he began to run up the winding stairs, but the doors were closed and secure. There were fire warriors outside. A mobile gun rig moved slowly past with crew walking behind.

  The sight of them calmed his panic.

  He spun about and saw a figure sitting in the low red light of the dome. It was Ch’an.

  ‘What are you doing?’ H’an demanded as he hurried across the open space.

  Ch’an turned and looked up. ‘I could not sleep,’ he said. There was a bundle in his lap. ‘I feel it. They are coming for us. The Most Honoured One is… mistaken.’