‘Kia orrae, void brethren,’ he said, inclining his head to the new arrivals. His features were far removed from Te Kahurangi’s – where the Chief Librarian was gaunt and scabbed with the Chapter’s genetic affliction, Atea was broad and blunt, looking more like a veteran of the First Company than one of the Chapter’s cadre of pallid psykers.
‘My thanks, brother,’ Sharr said, acknowledging Atea with a reverential nod before going down on one knee, a dozen paces from where the Red Wake still stood.
Only then did Lord Tyberos shift. He turned slowly, his armour purring – soft and smooth, for a suit so large and old. The black lenses of his helm – not removed even on the bridge of his own flagship – fell upon Sharr. The other Carcharodons behind him fell to their knees, the sound of ceramite meeting plasteel loud in the deep silence.
‘Rise,’ Tyberos said, his voice a dry, dead whisper. ‘What have you brought the shoal, Reaper Prime?’
‘Flesh,’ Sharr said. ‘The transport berths are full. Aspirants for every battle company. I have the full data available whenever you desire it.’
‘Te Kahurangi?’ Tyberos rasped.
‘The Ashen Claws remain as they have always been,’ the Chief Librarian said. ‘Indolent and fearful. They occupy Atargatis and dominate its tribes, but rarely foray beyond its borders. Their prey are reduced to outlying void clusters and lost colonies. They have not struck an active, tithe-paying Imperial holding for many years.’
‘They have agreed to supplement our fleet when the time comes,’ Sharr added.
‘You are sure?’
‘Nehat Nev still rails against us,’ Te Kahurangi admitted after Sharr said nothing. ‘Whether he will come in person or not I cannot see. Some among his Chapter and the tribes he claims mastery of support our ongoing pact, but many more do not.’
‘If he wishes to continue his slow slide into damnation, that is of no concern to us,’ Tyberos said. ‘Whether he assists us against this threat or not, he will still be judged one day.’
Sharr had nothing to add, so remained silent. Atea was the next to speak.
‘As you are no doubt aware, the Reaper Lord of the Void has sent a call through the deeps, summoning the shoals to return here. The Chapter is assembling in its entirety to face our new threat.’
‘New threat?’ Sharr asked.
‘The Great Devourer approaches. Deep-space probes have confirmed what we feared. The recent xenos withdrawals from the Under-Sectors have resulted in them coalescing into a single tendril. It is vast. Our current estimates point to over five hundred million individual void-faring organisms. They are approaching.’
‘So the Chapter has come together to deny them in a single engagement?’
‘They are changing tactics,’ Atea said. ‘Instead of attempting to penetrate up through multiple points in the galactic core, they will seek to breach the Imperium on one front. They are going to try to overwhelm us.’
‘They are being drawn,’ Tyberos added. ‘Like carrion to a carcass.’
‘Drawn by what?’ Sharr asked, looking from the Red Wake to the Librarian beside him.
‘There have been visions in your absence, Chief Librarian,’ Atea said, addressing Te Kahurangi. ‘All evidence points towards an attack on the system of Piety, on the fringes of the Segmentum Solar. That is the first inhabited sector of space in the hive fleet’s path, and its large population means it is rich in the bio-fuel that the tyranids feed on.’
‘They have been made aware of Piety’s ripeness by traitors and alien consorters,’ Tyberos said. ‘The visions of the Librarius point towards a xenos cult buried in the heart of that world’s Imperial clergy. It has inveigled itself into the shrine world, though how we do not know. We suspect also that they are aware of our observations. They are the ones calling up the kraken from the depths. They are the light drawing it out of the dark. They must be extinguished.’
‘The entire Nomad Predation Fleet has been assembled,’ Sharr said, repeating his earlier statement. ‘Are we to make a stand against the xenos in our entirety?’
‘No,’ Tyberos said. ‘We will mount one last effort to stop this horror before it breaches the Imperium’s walls, but you and your company will not be part of it. You will go to Piety instead, and you will unearth the xenos cult there. You will exterminate it. Rangu willing, that will extinguish the beacon drawing the hive fleet and cause it to turn away before it reaches us here.’
Silence followed the Red Wake’s words, interspersed only with the low tapping of the hundreds of menials working at their stations below. Sharr managed to hold his tongue, just. Tyberos went on.
‘If you fail to exterminate the cult, or it does not turn back after you do so, it is probable that every ship and void brother in this fleet will perish. If that occurs, then the Third Company will become the sole survivors of the Carcharodon Astra and the only inheritors of the Edicts of Exile.’
‘My lord, how can that be so?’ Sharr said, struggling to control the surging tide of thoughts. The other Carcharodons remained deadly silent as he continued. ‘Have I failed you again, that I am denied the chance to fight alongside the rest of the Chapter?’
He trailed off. No one spoke. In the silence Sharr realised once again that he was shaming himself. Just as in Nev’s gladiatorial pit, when the frenzy had overwhelmed him and he had screamed his hate, so once more was he putting himself above the needs of his Chapter and the orders of his lord. Head bowed, he went down on one knee again.
‘As you wish, my master.’
Tyberos nodded once and turned his back, returning his attention to the waters before him.
‘Speed is now of the essence,’ Atea said. ‘You must depart as soon as you have taken on fresh supplies and we have transferred your cargo to the rest of the fleet. A data burst containing more precise orders and coordinates will be available shortly.’
‘I have a single request, master,’ Sharr said, still kneeling, addressing Tyberos instead of Atea. ‘I assume I am to be supported in my expedition by a detachment from the First. If that is the case, I ask that Strike Leader Korro and his brethren remain attached to my company.’
For a moment Tyberos didn’t reply, his back still turned to Sharr. When he spoke, the words were directed at Korro.
‘Did the Reaper Prime conduct his late operation satisfactorily?’
Sharr could feel Korro’s gaze burning into him. He kept his head bowed. Eventually the Terminator spoke.
‘He did, my lord. There were a number of… irregularities, but he has fulfilled all of the operation’s requisites, despite the difficulties placed in his path by the renegades. I second his request that I remain assigned to his battle company.’
‘Very well,’ Tyberos said. ‘It shall be so. Now go, all of you.’
Sharr stood and the delegation began to leave, Atea with them. As he turned away from the Red Wake, movement caught his eye – something beyond the armourglass had stirred. For a moment, he thought he saw a shape in the dark waters, something almost unfathomably vast passing by the edge of the tank. An instant of pallid flesh and a soundless, dreadful ripple and it was gone again, receding into the gloom of its aquatic world.
Tyberos remained facing the darkness, unmoving, silent. Sharr turned away from him and made for the bridge’s blast doors.
Khauri withdrew to the gen-banks of the Nicor. The ancient warship had entered its night cycle, plunging the Chapter’s librarium into near-darkness. Khauri navigated the data-stacks and scroll ports by way of the blue lights winking from psy-crystals ranked around the chamber’s sides, each one containing a fragment of the Chapter’s long history stored in unlockable mem-traces. Unlike other brotherhoods among the Adeptus Astartes, the Carcharodon Astra didn’t hide their past from their own. Khauri, as with all initiates, knew their origins, had been told them from the start. What he had glimpsed in the depths of the Lost World had s
imply confirmed the lessons he had been taught by Te Kahurangi in the librarium’s depths.
The Lexicanium paused, allowing for the limping passage of one of the maintenance servitors that eternally checked the slates, scrolls and books for the purposes of cataloguing and preservation. The servitors were the only other beings present in the librarium at such a late hour, the shaven-headed lexicographers and biblio-savants retired to their sleep cells. Khauri entered one of the alcoves reserved for data monitoring and inserted the activation stick he had brought into its cogitator casket. There was a soft hum as the engine’s viewscreen came online. He took a seat on the bench before the display. Ostensibly he had come to the gen-banks to research Piety V before the White Maw departed for the shrine world. In truth, he needed the distance and the solitude. It was among the darkened stacks and high shelves that he had learned the ways of both the Chapter and the Librarius over the past decade. Returning to them felt like coming home. Or at least what he imagined coming home felt like.
The events on Atargatis still played on his mind. The astropath and his blinded spawn, the fervour with which they had sought to cut him apart, the zealous mania of their belief that he was tainted. He understood why. Te Kahurangi believed it was related to his gene-seed. But he had doubts. There was more to it than that, he was certain. If he was right, a swift death would be a blessing.
He was sure, too, that he was not alone in his fears. What had Arathar said to Te Kahurangi on Atargatis? And Atea had spoken with him in private as well, after the Red Wake’s dismissal. It felt as though the Chief Librarian was still shielding him, though from what exactly he wasn’t sure. Was he truly unaware of the possibility of taint, even while all those around him cast suspicions on his apprentice? Did he really not know about the voice that so often whispered to Khauri in the dark, when he was alone and filled with doubts?
The sound of bone clicking against plasteel disturbed his thoughts. It was a noise he knew well – the sound of a staff tapping the deck plates. He rose moments before Te Kahurangi rounded the stacks beside the alcove’s entrance. His black eyes passed from the viewscreen to Khauri.
‘I thought I would find you here,’ he said, his rasping voice barely disturbing the librarium’s quiet.
‘Preparing for our next operation, master,’ Khauri said, indicating the data files relating to the Piety System that had started to screed across the viewscreen.
‘Not our operation,’ Te Kahurangi corrected. ‘Yours alone, my apprentice. I have spoken with Atea and the other members of the Librarius. They are in agreement with my suggestion that the voyage to Piety Five with the Third Company should be your first undertaking without me. Your training is complete.’
‘I am to accompany the Reaper Prime alone, master?’ Khauri asked, his thoughts racing.
‘You do not think you are ready,’ Te Kahurangi said, pre-empting Khauri’s doubts. ‘I assure you, none are. When we first step out into the darkness, the most detailed scrying cannot accurately tell us whether we will stand or fall. It is the loneliest thing, to have the abilities we possess and be the only one of our kind, surrounded by those who can feel like brothers in name only. To be a Librarian attached to a battle company is to realise the full extent of the curse of psychic potency. Those around you will always be wary of you, yet at the same time will expect the contribution of your counsel and wisdom. If you fail, the censure will be the harshest imaginable.’
The Chief Librarian trailed off and smiled, the expression given a wicked edge by his sharpened teeth.
‘But all this you know, Khauri. You have been an attentive pupil. All that remains is for you to put what you have learned into practice.’
‘Master…’ Khauri paused to take a breath, marshalling his thoughts. ‘May I ask you something?’
‘Of course.’
‘On Atargatis, the astropath… He thought I was tainted.’
‘He was delirious,’ Te Kahurangi said. ‘The Ashen Claws are cruel masters, and they have few enough psykers as it is. The remainder do not function as they should.’
‘But what was it that their Librarian, Arathar, said to you afterwards?’
‘That is a matter for me alone to know.’
‘And what of Master Atea, on the bridge?’ Khauri pressed. ‘You have always taught that I must be independently minded, master. I must be able to see things differently if I am to offer the counsel befitting of a Librarian. I cannot help but wonder about…’
‘I know your fears,’ Te Kahurangi said quietly.
Khauri sensed an emotion stirring in the Chief Librarian, deep below the surface, rarely seen, but present none the less – anger.
‘If I thought you would fail, I would not send you,’ Te Kahurangi went on. ‘I must remain with Lord Tyberos. If Captain Sharr fails to uproot the xenos taint in time then I will be needed here, for the final stand. You passed your trials on the Lost World.’
‘And what if I fail?’ Khauri said, forcing himself to hold the ancient predator’s black gaze. ‘If the Nomad Predation Fleet is destroyed before we can wipe out the cult, then I will be the last living Librarian of the Carcharodon Astra. The sole guardian of our Chapter’s knowledge.’
‘You will be,’ Te Kahurangi agreed. ‘Ultimately, that is what it means to be ready.’
The Chief Librarian departed. Khauri turned back to the cogitator’s viewscreen. It had gone into standby, the monitor blank. On its surface the Lexicanium noticed something he hadn’t spotted when he had first entered the alcove. There were markings on the screen, scratches, as though someone had scraped them into the surface while Khauri and Te Kahurangi had conversed. It took him only a second to recognise the strange formation of circles and dashes. He had seen them before. He recoiled, blood running cold, his hands grasped around his stave. They shouldn’t be here. They couldn’t be.
His motion disturbed the viewscreen and it blinked back online. The markings vanished. He reached down and snatched the activation stick from the cogitator’s port, automatically deactivating the machine. The screen returned to blank, but there was still no sign of the markings.
Khauri turned and left, the grip on his stave tight. Every step of the way he tried to ignore the laughter, ringing inside his own head.
+ + Gene scan complete + + +
+ + Access granted + + +
+ + Beginning mem-bank entry log + + +
+ + Date check, 3680885.M41 + + +
The gathering of the ordo conclave on Imperius was as taxing as I had feared, but it has yielded the hoped-for result. I have secured an assignment to Piety V. Given Welt’s visions, I feel the hand of none other than the God-Emperor Himself assisting our undertaking.
We have just this last hour broken in-system. The voyage was fitful – Welt is still wracked with prophecy, and his psychic emanations are draining the rest of the retinue. Rannik in particular seems affected. I will have to keep her close when we make planetfall, otherwise she may become a liability.
Word was sent ahead of us, and the Supreme Pontiff has requested our presence at a ball celebrating the Final Feast of Saint Etrikus. Given we are operating here under the guise of a simple supplication visit it seems politic to accept. At the very least it should provide us with an introduction to the other dignitaries currently visiting the shrines. The local arbitrator commander, Fulchard, was the one who first raised concerns about cult activity here. The sooner we can begin investigating the root of his fears, the sooner we can determine if they are properly founded.
I only hope we have dealt with them before the Carcharodon Astra arrive.
Signed,
Inquisitor Augim Nzogwu
+ + Mem-bank entry log ends + + +
+ + Thought for the Day: By their works will thee know the righteous + + +
_________ Chapter VII
The interior cabin of the Falcon vibrated softly as the cutter’s wing-
mounted stabilisation gyros accounted for the tremors of atmospheric entry. The sound was setting Rannik on edge. The whole interior of the luxury flier felt anathema – the plush burgundy carpet, the chrome upholstery gleaming in the unfiltered light of high altitude, the filigreed amasec glasses tinkling softly in their seat holders. She was more used to the gut-wrenching judder of a combat lighter or the stinking, cattle-like pens of a mass conveyance shuttle. Even Nzogwu’s regular mode of transport, the gunship Antheon, was a far cry from the Falcon, its rugged hull and bare metal benches well removed from the world of polished metal and soft leather Rannik now found herself in.
‘Relax,’ said Nzogwu as he passed her seat and noticed her white knuckles.
‘You know I hate this thing,’ Rannik said. ‘It feels like we’re not even in the air.’
‘First impressions are vital, you know that,’ Nzogwu said, amused at her discomfort. ‘Just enjoy the view.’
He carried on towards the pilot’s cabin, passing the rest of the retinue chosen to meet the dignitaries of Piety V – Welt, Tibalt and Rawlin. Rannik returned her gaze to the viewing port beside her seat, just as the scudding white cloud cover beyond gave way to her first view of mighty Pontifrax.
The shrine-capital of Piety V was in itself not an extensive place. It sat in the bend of the River Amarikus, and as the Falcon dipped towards it, the sunlight caught its golden-capped domes and spires, the gleam of a priceless jewel nestled amidst the silver glitter of the great, arching river.
The jewel, however, was surrounded by filth. Beyond the edges of the outlying places of worship, the rude encampments of the faithful sprawled. Nearer the capital’s edge the shacks were multi-layered and expansive, lived in and added to by generations of pilgrims to create a slum warren that spread out beyond the shrines and past the river in all directions. The structures became ever-less permanent the further they strayed from the capital, with tens of thousands of ragged tents and enviro-domes marking the outer boundaries of the settlement, before they gave way to the arable land tended to by Piety’s indentured agri-monasteries.
Carcharodons: Outer Dark Page 13