by Andy Clark
‘Thank the Throne,’ said Jennika, dashing across the chamber to stare out of the armaglass windows. ‘There! Massata’s shuttle. There’s still hope.’ She watched the craft intently, willing it to put down, and not simply to fire its thrusters and flee into the skies above.
As the Sacristans attached mechadendrites and coupling tools to the mangled remains of the vox array, and began a swaying, chittering chant, Jennika watched the inquisitor’s shuttle put down in the compound with Kaston at the controls. Massata leapt from its rear ramp even before it had landed, crossing the open ground at a flat run, ignoring the last convulsions of the battle still raging around him.
As he vanished into the battery with Kaston and Nesh at his heels, Jennika could only will him to reach them in time. She stared skywards, as though she could pierce the churning clouds and see the Inquisitorial ship bearing down upon them with doom loaded into its launch tubes.
‘Not yet,’ she whispered. ‘Please, not yet. Emperor, protect us.’
‘Captain,’ said Mister Klem.
‘I see it, Klem,’ growled Captain Shas. ‘Damn battleship’s lining up for a bombardment.’
‘It could be targeting xenos forces?’ suggested the First Officer.
‘Orkdung,’ spat Shas.
‘What are your orders, captain?’ asked Mister Klem, his hand settling gently on the butt of his laspitol. He glanced casually towards where the commissar was pacing the deck, staring sternly at the ordnance crews as they cogitated ballistic solutions.
‘Damn it,’ said Shas. He swigged from his flask. ‘We’re too far away for anything but torpedoes. It’s going to have to be a full spread, everything we’ve got, and hope to Terra that the things hit home and the Emperor forgives us.’
Shas drew breath to issue the order that would doubtless see him and all his crew condemned for heresy.
‘Men,’ he said heavily. ‘Prepare to–’
Klem grabbed the back of his throne.
‘Captain,’ he hissed. ‘Look!’
Beyond the churning void battle, past drifting wrecks and ferocious firestorms, Shas saw the Inquisitorial Battleship ignite its thrusters.
‘Did they fire already?’ asked Klem, but Shas shook his head. He magnified the holofeed, grinning and thumping the arm of his throne as he realised the ship was climbing away from the orbital envelope.
‘They’ve called it off,’ bellowed Shas, taking a long pull from his flask. He grimaced as he found it empty and tossed it aside. ‘Hah, they’ve called it off. Emperor only knows why, but they’re pulling away. They’re coming for the orks.’
‘It appears as though we’re about to acquire some surprising new allies, captain,’ said Mister Klem. ‘Perhaps, considering their importance, I could advise you to refrain from your usual frank forms of address?’
Shas snorted.
‘If they kill orks, Klem, I’ll call them whatever damn fool thing they insist on, eh? Now, call up a rating. My flask needs refilling, and we’ve still got a battle to win…’
Epilogue
The siege of the Draconspire marked the turning point in the Second Ork War. Though Warlord Gorgrok was dead and his army shattered, many more greenskin warbands still roamed the wilds of Adrastapol. The planet’s defenders had suffered grievous casualties, and two of their three great seats of power were virtually in ruin. Crucially, however, all three Noble Houses were truly united at last beneath the banner of their High King. The war in the void turned firmly in the favour of the Bastion Fleet, for the greenskin armada had been worn down by constant attrition while the Adrastapolian captains seem to have received Imperial reinforcements at this time. It is perhaps unsurprising that, during such a fierce and desperate conflict, the precise nature of these reinforcements seems to have been lost from official records, but whatever the case their presence appears to have tipped the scales at last.
Gauging the strategic situation with self-assurance, and his usual disregard for what he viewed as outdated traditions, High King Danial formed the War Council of Adrastapol. A unified body for military governance, this group comprised not only the three regents of the Noble Houses and all the surviving Knights of their Exalted Courts, but also the Knight of Ashes, the High Sacristans of Houses Draconis, Pegasson and Minotos, and a number of other Knights and militia captains felt to possess sufficient strategic talent to be of use. Eyebrows were raised at such an apparant egalitarian approach to rule, but its worth was swiftly proven after a series of blistering offensives that drove the orks back from the northern Valatane and the feet of the Kulrikh Range, as well as relieving the ongoing siege of the Pegassus’ Eyrie.
With the orks mired in infighting, and the seats of Imperial power secured, the campaign began in earnest to purge the xenos invaders from the face of Adrastapol. Nor did High King Danial waste any time in ordering the commencement of reconstruction, setting a punishing pace for the restoration of those strongholds and facilities damaged in the fighting. Even as Mount Imperius was being purged of xenowitches, and the fortresses of the Ferric Hills and the South Valatane were being reclaimed, ruined sections of the Iron Maze and the Draconspire were already being cleared, and scaffolds rising like fresh shoots after a forest fire. Such was the nature of High King Danial, a man for whom victory in war was not an end unto itself, but merely a necessary step along the road to prosperity and strength for his people.
At last, after many costly battles and fierce engagements, Adrastapol was declared free of xenos taint and reconsecrated in the Emperor’s name. Though its people were exhausted, and there was still a great deal of work to be done before Adrastapol would recover from its trials, it was a day for great celebration.
Extracted from the writing of Sendraghorst,
Sage Strategic of Adrastapol,
vol XXI ‘The 2nd Ork War’.
Danial and Suset stood at the railing of their chambers’ balcony, cradling balloon glasses of Lyrnmount vintage. The warm summer night rang to the sounds of cheering, music and revelry that washed up from the streets below. Above, the stars glimmered against the velvet canopy of the night sky, broken only by the looming scaffolds that marked new towers under construction.
‘Here’s to victory,’ said Suset, clinking her glass against his. Danial smiled, leaning in to kiss the woman who, since the grand ceremony a month earlier, was now High Queen of Adrastapol.
‘It has been a long, hard road,’ he said. ‘Costly, in our subjects’ lives, in nobles and steeds… I almost can’t believe that the fight is done at last.’
‘Oh, Da, the fight is never done, is it?’ she laughed. ‘And we’d none of us know what in Throne’s name to do with ourselves if it was.’
‘True,’ he said ruefully. ‘We’re Knights. It’s the Emperor’s will that we fight His wars until the day we die. But not them.’ He gestured down at the streets of the inner districts far below. There, labourers and serviles, victuallers and smiths and adepts and countless other civilians raised coloured lanterns on poles while they drank and sang victory hymns. ‘For them, the nightmare is over at last,’ said Danial.
‘It is a dark and violent galaxy,’ said Suset, sobering. ‘There will always be another threat, another terror lurking in the dark, another buried secret to rear its head. You can’t keep everyone safe, Da.’
‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try.’
She smiled at him and finished the last of her wine.
‘For today at least, you have succeeded, my king,’ she said. ‘So, what better time to discuss the next terrible danger that we must plunge into?’
Danial chuckled.
‘The more power you have to change the galaxy for the better, my queen, the less time you get to enjoy the results of your labours,’ he said. ‘They’ll be here in a moment.’
They retreated into the royal chambers, Suset refilling her glass from a cara
fe, setting it back next to Danial’s former servo-skulls. The High King had decided not to have the antiques restored after the ork attack, instead setting them on plinths and keeping them as ornaments.
There was a knock at the door.
‘Come,’ called Suset, and the doors swung wide to reveal Sires Percivane, Markos and Garath. All three boasted new augmetics, earned during the fight for the Draconspire. The sight made Danial roll his own mechanical shoulder and rub at his arm, a habit he wasn’t sure he would ever shake.
Behind the Knights of the Exalted Court strode Luk, his flamboyantly attired comrade Ekhaterina, and a tall figure in a plain robe and hood who was trailed by a lumbering scribe-servitor.
‘Merry Victor’s Day,’ said Sire Garath sardonically as the group entered the chamber. ‘I’d toast the occasion, but…’ He waved an empty hand.
‘The orks may have wrought destruction across Adrastapol, but at least Sire Garath remains unchanged,’ smiled Danial.
‘I don’t know about that,’ said the Master at Arms, and a shadow passed across his face. ‘That last fight for the upper ’spire… I don’t think anyone could have come through that unchanged, sire.’
‘True for us all,’ said Danial. ‘But come, though we attend to serious business, there is no reason we can’t enjoy a little of our own success. There are glasses, wine, spirits, food. Help yourselves.’
‘Look at all this,’ said Lady Hespar, helping herself to a large glass of amasec and rolling her eyes in exaggerated bliss at her first swallow. ‘You’re going to eschew all this to continue on your hunt, Luk?’
‘My offer does still stand,’ said Danial to his friend. ‘You have more than proven your loyalty to Adrastapol, brother. I could pardon you, give you new lands, have you start a new Noble House with whichever of your Exiles wished to join you. None would gainsay it now.’
Luk shook his head.
‘My hunt is not complete,’ he said. ‘My honour is stained until the day Alicia lies dead, and all she has wrought is unmade.’
Ekhaterina pulled a face, but Danial saw that, underneath her veneer of insouciance, Luk’s comrade was pleased at his answer.
‘Besides,’ chuckled Luk, ‘can you imagine telling Lady Maia that we were giving up the hunt to sit around drinking wine?’
‘She’d kill you herself,’ said Ekhaterina. ‘Probably with her teeth…’
‘What of Vo-Geiss?’ asked Luk. ‘Do you think he’ll follow us on this endeavour?’
‘Hard to say,’ said Ekhaterina. ‘He hates you, you know this. And I think he blames you for his injuries.’
‘Then he is a fool,’ said Luk. ‘Vo-Geiss will follow, or he won’t. It will be as the Emperor wills it.’
‘Where is Lady Jennika?’ asked Suset. ‘I would have expected the First Knight at such a gathering.’
‘She could not be found,’ said the hooded figure. ‘This matter can wait no longer.’ Inquisitor Massata pulled back his hood, and strode to the holotable in the middle of the chamber.
‘We’ll have to reweave this tapestry for the Lady Tan Draconis when she surfaces,’ said Markos. ‘She’s probably sharing a drink with her warriors, and who can blame her?’
‘To business, then,’ said Danial.
They gathered around the holoprojector, which Suset awoke with a flick of its control wand. An image of Adrastapol sprang up, revolving slowly. New orbital platforms could be seen hanging in the void, skeletal and half built.
‘Today, my friends,’ said Danial, ‘we officially toast victory over the ork menace.’ They raised their glasses, all except Massata, who had not taken one.
‘And today,’ said the inquisitor, ‘with the full authority granted to me by my office as an inquisitor of the Imperial Ordos, and speaking with the voice of the Emperor, I formally rescind the judgement placed upon Adrastapol and its Noble Houses. I find this world’s people to be faithful, pure and true servants of the Emperor of Mankind.’
As the inquisitor spoke, his servitor scribe scritched its auto-quills over sheaves of parchment that spilled from its mouth-slot, vestigial lower limbs gathering the writings up like a spider spooling silk. The Knights maintained mask-like composure as the inquisitor spoke, years of conditioning allowing them to keep their true feelings hidden.
Mostly.
‘Adrastapol and its Noble Houses thank you for this decree, and for your part in aiding the war effort to purge the invading xenos from our world,’ intoned Danial. ‘We ask that full honour be done to the hundreds of nobles who fell during the fighting, and the countless thousands of militia and serfs who lost their lives to the ork scourge.’
‘Any sacrifice is worthwhile in service to the Emperor,’ said Massata, his tone neutral.
‘Easier when it’s not your own people though, isn’t it?’ snapped Sire Garath, earning a stern glare from Danial. Massata showed no reaction to Garath’s words.
‘To the business at hand,’ said Luk, seeking to diffuse the moment of tension. ‘It is time, in this small and trusted company, that I reveal the location of Alicia Kar Manticos.’
‘The heretic who caused all of our ills, who destroyed Luk’s House and betrayed our people,’ said Danial.
‘The arch-priestess of the entity I have hunted for decades,’ rumbled Massata. ‘Our true enemy, against whom we all must stand united.’ The Knights of Adrastapol shifted uncomfortably at this, and exchanged pointedly neutral glances.
Luk opened a pouch on his belt and reverently drew from it the crumbling scroll he had acquired upon Kandakkha over a year earlier. It had not seen daylight in the days since, and now he unfurled it again with wonder and disquiet.
Accepting the control wand from Suset, Luk carefully entered a series of astrogation coordinates. On the hololith, Adrastapol receded, vanishing to a dot, and then to a rune that indicated the entire Majestis System. The image spun and reeled, sweeping across the sprawling starfields of the Emperor’s domain, further and further towards the galactic north-west.
Danial watched the image move, and as he did so, dread settled in his chest. He knew, even before the hololith stopped whirling, where it would settle.
‘The Eye of Terror,’ he said.
‘Almost,’ said Luk. ‘A world upon its brink, not more than two hundred light years from Cadia herself.’
‘Hastour,’ said Markos as the image zoomed slowly in, settling on a cold white orb. ‘Looks like a blinded eye. What do we know of it?’
‘Very little,’ said Luk. ‘Former Adeptus Mechanicus Explorator outpost. Lost to traitor forces two centuries ago, which is when the last reliable information was garnered. A frozen hellscape from what I understand.’
‘Why in the Dracon’s name would the witch make her lair there?’ asked Garath. ‘Looks dead. Worthless.’
‘That is but one mystery we must answer if we wish to defeat the sorceress and the being she serves,’ said Massata. ‘But we must solve it soon. The longer Alicia Kar Manticos remains at liberty to further the desires of That Which Dwells in Darkness, the greater the peril to the Emperor’s realm.’
‘Agreed,’ said Danial. ‘But you are talking about a crusade, inquisitor. One that will take us to the very threshold of madness. I must speak to Lauret and Kurt, attempt to convince them that such an undertaking is viable. That will take time.’
‘It is the Emperor’s will and it must be done,’ said Massata.
‘We would be swifter, stronger, more easily convinced to fight, if we had not just endured a xenos invasion,’ said Markos angrily.
‘I understand,’ said Massata, and if he was troubled by Markos’ hostility he showed no sign of it. ‘The Emperor wills that sometimes we must ask, and achieve the impossible. I need time for careful study of the tome that I recovered, for until its heretical passages can be safely deciphered its worth as a weapon is nil. The swift step finds the pit, not th
e path. Besides, there are debts of loyalty I can call upon. Allegiances I can revive. When the Knights of Adrastapol set out to slay the witch, they will not do so unaided.’
‘There will be logistical matters to attend to,’ said Suset. ‘Forces to marshal, and defences to be completed before we can leave our world to fend for itself.’
‘Nothing we can’t get done,’ said Garath. ‘Especially now that even Grandmarshal Kurt has realised the value of a true alliance.’
‘In the meantime, there are prayers to be said for the dead, ceremonies of rememberance to be performed,’ said Percivane. ‘The cost of this war to Adrastapol’s people has been horrific, the damage to our newfound infrastructure barely less so. If we fail to acknowledge the losses, to enshrine the deeds of the dead and rebuild our fortifications to shield the living, this world may yet be lost.’
‘That will take months,’ said Massata. ‘Months we may not possess.’
‘It is absolutely necessary, inquisitor, and I will not be moved on that,’ said Danial. ‘It is my first duty as High King, and the Emperor would damn me if I failed in it. You will have your crusading force, if it is mine to give by any means, but not until I have seen to my people.’
The air in the chamber grew thick with tension as Danial and Massata locked eyes. Eventually, the inquisitor waved a hand airily.
‘As you say, High King Danial,’ he said.
‘I also intend to comb the libraries of the Draconspire for anything that may aid us further,’ said Danial. ‘If this conflict has taught me anything, it is that Adrastapol conceals more secrets than we know. We are people who venerate our past, yet to truly derive strength from it, and to defend ourselves from the secrets buried beneath our feet, we must understand it.’
Inquisitor Massata nodded.
‘We must prepare ourselves in whatever way we can,’ he said, his eyes growing hard. ‘When we depart this world again, it will be upon the most dangerous, and most holy quest that any of us has ever known.’