‘And yet you still opted to gamble with Space Marine lives.’
The hololithic figure remained unmoved. ‘The objective warranted the risk. Such gambles are what Adeptus Astartes lives are for. Or should I deploy you only where victory is assured? You are ordo assets now. I will wager your lives as I see fit.’
‘You speak so of Space Marines. It’s well that you appear only as a hololith. I might teach you the price of your hubris.’
The projection shook its head.
‘We both know better. You are no oath-breaker. You would not be a black stain on the shining history of your Chapter.’
‘What do you know of our history?’ said Karras dismissively.
‘More than you might suppose,’ said Sigma. ‘No archives are as extensive as those of the Inquisition. And while the Noble Order of Occludus may seek to cloak itself in myth and secrecy, the eyes of the Inquisition can pierce any veil to which they turn, given time and cause. Something to remember, Death Spectre.’
Karras forced his temper to cool. He did not like the turn the conversation had taken. ‘Is that a threat?’
‘A reminder of your duty. You and I must operate in extremes. Together. I need to know you will continue to execute my orders.’
‘You ask for blind faith. Among the Death Spectres, leadership is conferred for deeds witnessed. I have no such grounds to trust yours.’
‘A circular argument. I am an inquisitor lord. That rank alone, independent of all I have done to attain it, is enough.’
Karras answered with silence, teeth clenched.
‘Lyandro Karras, if I held you in low regard, we would not be talking now. You would be dead. Recall that I selected the entire team personally. Nothing I do is on a whim. The war we wage must be fought on my terms. It is of a scale that would shock you, and the alternative to our success is too grave to countenance. Be glad your responsibilities and decisions are limited to the immediate and tactical. Leave the greater burden to me. Simply, be my implement, my knife in the dark, my mailed fist. Do what you are best at, what you were shaped for. And honour your oaths.’
‘Why the eldar machine?’ Karras demanded. ‘Was there no other way?’
The face of the figure on the high throne remained impassive, unreadable. ‘It was not a decision I took lightly. I know all too well the baggage of zealous hate that all Space Marines carry. There is a place for it, but one must know that place. Ultimately, I authorised your interment in the machine because I needed you back at full capability. My coven has unusual difficulties in foreseeing your future. I had to take appropriate measures or risk losing a much-needed asset. The crucible into which I am sending you next will be infinitely more dangerous than the last. We have less intelligence on the ground this time. Fewer assets in place. And you will be fighting an enemy with technology that even our greatest tech-magi still struggle to counter.’
‘You speak of the t’au as if you respect them. In some quarters, you would be hanged for heresy.’
The hololith grinned. ‘The Inquisition decides what is and is not heresy. The t’au have their weaknesses, and we will exploit them, but only a fool would refuse to recognise their strengths. I know from your records that you have never faced them. That is unfortunate, for they are unlike other foes, but it is an issue I have arranged to mitigate. You need only know this about them for now – they are an entirely different prospect to the genestealers you slew during Night Harvest. This is no ravening horde you face. Raw courage and bloody determination won’t win the day this time. Before we go further, I will summon your squad brothers. We will begin the briefing proper once everyone is assembled.’
Karras took a step towards the throne and held up one hand.
‘Wait,’ he said. ‘I would ask one more thing before you do.’
‘Then ask, for all the good it will do you.’
‘What happened to the woman we extracted? What happened to White Phoenix?’
The hololith gave a dismissive shake of its head. For a second, it flickered out of existence, then blinked back into view upon the tall throne and said simply, ‘The rest of the kill-team has been summoned. They will arrive in a few minutes. I give you those minutes to reflect on the futility of asking such questions.’
Assembled again in full armour, the kill-team was a sight that lifted Karras’ spirits after the talk with the inquisitor. They were as he was – bred for battle, disdainful of politics and gamesmanship. The straight fight was what Space Marines lived for. Talon Squad may not all see eye to eye, but they had a lot more in common with each other than they did with those around them.
And they were good.
Karras had watched them file in. Pride in his Chapter aside, these were some of the best Space Marines he had ever served with. He had seen them pull Night Harvest from the ashes of disaster. Each was supremely skilled, a specialist complementing the talents of his battle-brothers. Together, they were far more than the sum of their parts. Solarion still radiated bitterness and hate. Rauth was still cold, unreadable and aloof. And Zeed was still an irreverent troublemaker. But what had needed to be said had been said. Downtime was always less welcome than war.
The hololith had shifted form again on Sigma’s whim. Karras no longer cared. Let the inquisitor labour his point about need to know as he liked. It was the mission ahead that mattered. He would focus on that. Let all else fall away.
As it should be.
It was the figure of a wizened old man in a ragged monk’s habit that now sat atop the tall black throne, looking down at them.
‘The Saint Nevarre,’ began the hololith, ‘is currently heading towards galactic east on its way to rendezvous with the vessel that will take you to your destination. Between now and your deployment to the planetary surface, you will interface with the ship’s archives and update your knowledge of t’au language, specifically the dialect most used by enemy forces there.’
‘Spoken T’au cannot be accurately recreated by unmodified human vocal chords,’ said Karras. ‘In the event that we need to interrogate one of them in their own language–’
‘Accounted for,’ replied Sigma. He did not elaborate. Instead, he said, ‘Your insertion will be covert. Once you have adequate intelligence and it becomes necessary to make a move, you will strike hard and fast. You are deploying to a hostile world. While it is not heavily garrisoned, once your presence is known, the chances of success become borderline non-existent. The window will close fast. Get in quietly, establish contact with loyalist forces on the ground, ascertain the location of the target, secure and employ any necessary local support, acquire the target and get out.’
‘And what of me?’ Chyron rumbled. ‘Am I again to wait like a guard dog at some damned exfil point like a witless gun-servitor? Is my strength to be squandered yet again? I was born to wreak havoc. Throw me into the storm or let me sleep. My patience with these special operations of yours, inquisitor, wears perilously thin.’
The inquisitor’s holo turned its head towards the mighty Dreadnought. ‘When and where heavy force is needed, Lamenter, your qualities will be called up. Ours is not a compact in which I’m required to satisfy your sense of pride or hunger for bloodshed. In this case, there are too many variables to say how you will best be utilised. Decisions will be taken on the ground. It is highly likely that the asset you are to extract will be heavily guarded. Intense combat is likely, losses almost a certainty. My coven has seen as much. Still, if the mission goes to plan, you’ll not alert entrenched security forces to your presence until absolutely necessary.’
‘What of these security forces?’ asked Voss. ‘What are we looking at?’
‘I’ll come to that, Talon Four. The planet to which you will be deploying was once an Imperial world. We call it Tychonis. The t’au call it by another name. It was separated from the Imperium when a warp storm called the Dragon’s Eye flared up, blanketing the reg
ion in an impenetrable cloud called the Green Veil. Shipping and psychic communications were completely blocked. When the storm spent itself and the Green Veil retreated, the planetary populace found itself under yearly attacks from the dark eldar. These lasted until t’au forces touched down on the planet and eliminated the dark eldar presence, freeing the people from their suffering, at which point most of the human population turned its back on the Imperium and embraced the philosophy and culture of the t’au. So it is today. Ordo assets on the ground report that the t’au have managed to turn vast swathes of what was once desert into highly productive and rich agricultural land. Long-range scans and astropathic reconnaissance bear this out. Atmospheric processing has turned the northern and southern polar regions into areas of extreme precipitation. Extensive canals channel this water to the rest of the planet, allowing for widespread agriculture and habitation, improving the lives of all but the rebel tribes who refuse to integrate. The security forces present are a mix of t’au and human military. There are a few elements from other species the t’au have co-opted. Mostly kroot, but no auxiliary force of significant note.’
‘The people of this world,’ growled Solarion. ‘They abandoned the Emperor’s light. It is unforgivable.’
‘But not in the least surprising,’ said Sigma. ‘Your own Ultramarine brothers and the t’au fire caste have fought side by side in the past. You know they are unlike other races. Their regime is not a difficult buy-in for a world on the fringes, unaided in a time of great need.’
‘We cooperated out of dire necessity,’ snapped Solarion. ‘The Ultramarines are as contemptuous of xenos as any Chapter, and any Chapter with an ounce of strategic sense would have committed to that accord in the moment.’
‘No one suggests otherwise. Malbede was as you say. Dire necessity. And it is dire necessity that moves the ordo’s hand now. A highly trusted inquisitor lord, designated Epsilon, is on Tychonis. All contact has been lost. Imprisoned, most likely, but we cannot be sure at this stage. We need her extracted alive. We can risk no direct frontal assault until we are absolutely sure of her location. Even then, it must be a lightning strike, like a bolt from a clear sky. Do you understand? This is a precision operation, not a hammer blow. Any open act of war may not only cost us the life of the asset, but will almost certainly eliminate your own chances of survival.’
‘Asset recovery,’ snorted Zeed. ‘Another Night Harvest.’
‘This is nothing like Night Harvest,’ replied the inquisitor drily. ‘The best chance you have of locating and extracting Epsilon is to make contact with the rebel tribes. The Kashtu of the north are best placed to aid you. They have been resisting since the t’au first set foot on their world. They have a network of spies and cells that may be your best hope in gaining vital intelligence, not to mention operational support. They know the situation on Tychonis better than we do. Use them.’
‘What do we have on Epsilon’s position right now?’ demanded Rauth.
‘The situation is highly fluid,’ replied Sigma. The hololith turned its head towards the Exorcist as it spoke. ‘The ordo has assets in place among the rebels and in the cities. Not many, but each is working on locating the target.’
‘The rebels,’ said Karras. ‘They will mistake our coming for some long-awaited sign, correct? They will believe we are their liberation. I would wager you are even counting on it.’
The hololith grinned, and not pleasantly. ‘Such assumptions will serve our purpose well. Encourage them. We may need the rebels to launch diversionary assaults. A great many will likely die. Do not let your consciences confuse you. Their rebellion is none of our concern. It is doomed in any case. The world in question is currently of too little real worth to the Imperium to warrant a Militarum recovery expedition. Focus only on Epsilon. Time is of the essence. We don’t know how long we have before the t’au find a way to pry highly classified information from her. It may already be too late. In any case, she must be recovered alive so she can be fully debriefed. She is an asset of the very highest level. The implications of a successful interrogation at the hands of enemy forces–’
‘And yet your precious ordo lost her to the blue-skins,’ said Zeed with a shake of his head. ‘Should have had her on a tighter leash.’
‘Resources,’ said Voss, quickly defusing his squad brother’s remark. ‘What are we going in with?’
Sigma ignored Zeed’s remark and focused on answering Voss. ‘Pre-deployment loadouts will be decided and on-site resources will be overseen by your operational commander. I can tell you that you will have Reaper Wing for transport and air support, Chyron for heavy ground. You will also be deploying with a special operations task force – Inquisition Storm Troopers – all of whom read and understand the T’au language fluently.’
‘Wait,’ said Karras, holding up a hand. ‘Operational commander? You mean to say that you will not be overseeing this one yourself?’
‘The Saint Nevarre shall remain fully stealthed on the periphery of the t’au defence grid. She will not risk entry until the critical moment. Mission command has been assigned to another. One especially suited to the task. You will follow her orders to the letter as your oaths to the Watch and the ordo decree. I emphasise, Talon Squad, that her authority over Operation Shadowbreaker is absolute.’
‘Her authority?’ said Solarion.
Sigma’s hololith winked out of existence for a brief instant. When it returned, it was followed by a hiss of hydraulics and plasteel on plasteel as the heavy door on the room’s starboard side slid up into the ceiling.
A slender female entered the briefing room through wisps of oily steam. She was lithe, almost panther-like in her movements. The Space Marines watched her with mixed expressions as she marched crisply to a position a few metres in front of the base of Sigma’s throne. There, she turned and cast an assessing eye over them. Dark hair cut high at the back, longer at the front, framed a caramel-skinned face in which sat two almond-shaped eyes. A dark, ragged scar ran from forehead to right cheek.
She did not smile. Nor did she bow.
She gave no sign of awe or reverence whatsoever.
Instead, she half-turned and spoke over her shoulder to Sigma. ‘They are glorious, my lord. Let’s hope they are as lethal as they look, because they’ll need to be.’
Solarion looked ready to leap forward and strike her. Karras put out a hand and forestalled him.
‘Mind yourself, woman,’ he said. ‘You address Space Marines!’
She turned back to them, her eyes settling on Karras. In answer, she flashed him a bright and supremely confident smile. It transformed her face, one that made her beautiful where before she had seemed as rough and rugged as unprocessed ore.
‘Talon Squad,’ said Sigma, ‘meet Archangel, your operational commander for the duration of Shadowbreaker. Until this operation concludes, whether in victory or death, her word is law.’
Fifteen
Solarion surged forward.
Karras threw a restraining hand against his breastplate, but the Ultramarine knocked it away. ‘First you assign me to the tactical command of a damned Thirteenth Founding psyker,’ he raged, ‘and now–’
‘Control yourself,’ growled Karras.
‘Prophet has a point, Scholar,’ said Zeed. He addressed Archangel. ‘How many decades have you seen, woman? Three?’
‘Hold yourselves, both of you,’ Karras snapped. He faced Sigma’s throne and the shimmering figure atop it. ‘The inquisitor is about to explain.’
‘My decree is reason enough,’ said Sigma flatly. He turned his head towards Zeed. ‘But in this case, Raven Guard, I will indulge you. So listen well. There is no individual better qualified to lead this operation than Archangel, even among all the Deathwatch assets at my disposal. No other. As to why, she shall speak for herself.’
The woman’s eyes fixed boldly onto each of them in turn until she was sure she had a
ll their attention. She showed no fear whatsoever, as if daring them to challenge her. Adeptus Astartes were used to humans being overwhelmed or paralysed with fear in their presence. Not so this woman. Karras observed her aura. It danced and coruscated like that of Cashka Redthorne, the bold captain of the Saint Nevarre. Both women radiated that air of supreme confidence and competence that inspired others to follow, even hardened fighting men.
Among the people of the Imperium, there were the lions and the sheep. Most people needed strong leaders. They craved them. They craved the freedom from personal responsibility that comes with putting faith in something or someone bigger and bolder than oneself.
The vast majority were sheep. So it had always been.
Captain Redthorne, at least, showed genuine deference in the presence of the Adeptus Astartes. But this woman, this soldier, lithe and taut, tattooed on neck, forearms and shoulders with the iconography of Militarum special forces, showed no deference. In fact, she expected it. She radiated killer instinct.
This, Karras could see, was not just some ordo agent. This was a veteran of wars fought and won, a genuine killer, a specialist every bit as dedicated to her purpose as each of the assembled Deathwatch operators.
She did not cower before them because she was a lion in a room full of lions. And if she was to be worthy of leading them, she had no choice but to show it here and now. If even a small crack appeared in her resolve, Talon Squad would not take her seriously.
Karras felt a sudden empathy for her. A kinship, even.
Leadership is an honour and a burden both. Show us then, woman, that you are the lion we will need you to be.
‘In the field, you will address me as Archangel,’ she said, ‘but my birth name is Varanezza Althus Copley. Var for short. Copley to those that prefer it. I don’t much care what you call me during downtime, so long as you get the damned job done. Operational success is everything. If necessary, I will give my life and the lives of all those under my command to achieve it. I may not be a Space Marine, but I’ve dedicated my life to waging war for mankind. You will find me uncompromising, but you will also find me open to good counsel. Even grateful for it.’
Shadowbreaker Page 13