The Unforgiven - Gav Thorpe

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by Warhammer 40K




  • LEGACY OF CALIBAN •

  RAVENWING

  MASTER OF SANCTITY

  LORDS OF CALIBAN

  ANGELS OF DARKNESS

  THE PURGING OF KADILLUS

  A Space Marine Battles novel

  PANDORAX

  A Space Marine Battles novel

  DARK VENGEANCE

  ACCEPT NO FAILURE

  An audio drama

  TRIALS OF AZRAEL

  An audio drama

  MALEDICTION

  An audio drama

  Explore the origins of the Dark Angels in The Horus Heresy series

  DESCENT OF ANGELS

  A Horus Heresy novel, also available as an unabridged audiobook

  FALLEN ANGELS

  A Horus Heresy novel, also available as an unabridged audiobook

  THE LION

  A Horus Heresy novella, also available as an unabridged audiobook

  It is the 41st millennium. For more than a hundred centuries the Emperor has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Earth. He is the master of mankind by the will of the gods, and master of a million worlds by the might of his inexhaustible armies. He is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from the Dark Age of Technology. He is the Carrion Lord of the Imperium for whom a thousand souls are sacrificed every day, so that he may never truly die.

  Yet even in his deathless state, the Emperor continues his eternal vigilance. Mighty battlefleets cross the daemon-infested miasma of the warp, the only route between distant stars, their way lit by the Astronomican, the psychic manifestation of the Emperor’s will. Vast armies give battle in his name on uncounted worlds. Greatest amongst His soldiers are the Adeptus Astartes, the Space Marines, bio-engineered super-warriors. Their comrades in arms are legion: the Astra Militarum and countless planetary defence forces, the ever-vigilant Inquisition and the tech-priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus to name only a few. But for all their multitudes, they are barely enough to hold off the ever-present threat from aliens, heretics, mutants – and worse.

  To be a man in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live in the cruellest and most bloody regime imaginable. These are the tales of those times. Forget the power of technology and science, for so much has been forgotten, never to be re-learned. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for in the grim dark future there is only war. There is no peace amongst the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods.

  Part One

  Tharsis

  Surrender

  ‘You may address me by my title,’ said the Space Marine. ‘Lord Cypher.’

  Annael pushed himself to his feet, pain flaring from his wounded knee. ‘Who?’ he asked as Calatus moved forward to help him stand. Annael laid his hand on his battle-brother’s shoulder and tentatively put some weight on the leg.

  ‘I am the Lord Cypher. I am here to see your leaders.’

  ‘You attacked us,’ said Huntmaster Tybalain. His bolt pistol was still levelled at the stranger, a power sword in his other hand. He glanced at the unarmoured Space Marine lying at Annael’s feet with half his head missing, and nodded to Nerean. ‘Is he alive?’

  Nerean crouched beside the traitor’s corpse, but the stranger spoke first.

  ‘He is dead. Not even one of our kind can survive a wound like that.’

  Tybalain said nothing and looked at Nerean. The Black Knight nodded his confirmation. ‘Stone cold dead, brothers.’

  Annael looked at the cadaver and then to the Space Marine that had saved his life. Any gratitude he felt was overwhelmed by suspicion at the Space Marine’s unheralded appearance.

  ‘We should call in a Dark Talon to take this one away,’ he said, over the squad vox-frequency so as not to be heard by the captive. ‘He is clearly one of the Fallen.’

  ‘Why would he give up so easily?’ asked Nerean. ‘It is a trap of some kind, you can be sure of it.’

  ‘He still has his sword,’ said Annael. He studied the way the other Space Marine stood. There was an ease in his stance that betrayed a calm demeanour. He really did not seem at all concerned by his predicament, or else was able to disguise any misgivings. ‘This situation is not to my liking at all.’

  ‘Do you want to try to take the sword from him?’ said Calatus. ‘I fear we shall not do so without killing him, and the attempt would be costly all the same.’

  ‘He certainly dealt with Astelan in swift fashion,’ said Tybalain. ‘I feel no strong urge to test his competence directly. The name Cypher does not mean anything to you, but it is known to me, in a way. It is a codeword amongst the Fallen, and if we hear it we are to inform our superior immediately.’

  ‘Master Asmodai should learn of this first,’ said Calatus. ‘It was he that ordered Astelan to be executed. He will know what to do.’

  None of the others voiced objection to this and Tybalain communicated what had happened to Chaplain Asmodai. While he did so, Annael kept a close watch on the prisoner. ‘Lord Cypher’ made no move, remaining as motionless as a statue. He did not even react when Calatus retrieved the plasma pistol and bolt pistol the stranger had relinquished. Annael looked at the plasma pistol, not recognising the design.

  ‘Old,’ said Calatus, turning the weapon left and right. The craftsmanship was exquisite, even to Annael’s untrained eye. ‘Very old.’

  ‘The Master of Repentance is not happy,’ Tybalain reported. He switched to external address. ‘We are to await the arrival of Master Asmodai here. You will not move or speak. If you attempt to escape you will be killed.’

  Lord Cypher accepted this without a word or gesture, taking the Huntmaster’s instruction literally. Annael recovered the bolt pistol that had been taken from him, ashamed that he had been disarmed so easily. The pain in his left knee had dulled, but the wound in his pride at being shot by his own weapon was still raw. He tried putting weight on the leg again to distract himself from his embarrassment and found that he was able to stand, although slightly crookedly. Nerean inspected the damage to Annael’s helm and backpack from the traitor’s second shot and pronounced that all was well. The bolt had done nothing more than cosmetic harm.

  Forty-five minutes passed more or less in silence until the sound of engines grew louder outside the ruins of the Slaughterkeep. A few minutes later Chaplain Asmodai arrived, clad in his full black armour, face concealed behind his skull helm. The paint of his livery was heavily chipped, the exposed ceramite cracked in many places. Clearly the Master of Repentance had been involved in quite a clash.

  The Chaplain marched past the assembled Black Knights and stood in front of the prisoner, staring at him for some time. The Fallen made no move of his own and said nothing.

  ‘We are to believe this is Cypher?’ Asmodai said eventually, his voice emitted from the external vocalisers of his helm so that the prisoner could also hear.

  ‘My title is Lord Cypher.’

  Asmodai whirled around, the blue-gleaming head of his crozius arcanum smashing into the side of the traitor’s helm, sending up splinters of ceramite and knocking him to his knees.

  ‘You are no lord!’ spat Asmodai. ‘You are scum! Filth! Traitor! You do not speak unless directly addressed.’

  The stranger stayed down, head bowed, one hand on the ground to steady himself. Asmodai loomed over him, crozius at the ready, but the Fallen remained where he was and kept silent.

  ‘Good, it seems I am understood.’ Asmodai stepped back and started to pace, circling the Fallen, speaking aloud as much to himself as to the Black Knights. ‘We are to believe that Cypher, architect of a
hundred Fallen plots to destroy and dishonour us, is now in our hands. He has finally been caught, nigh minutes after another of his kind came into our custody.’

  ‘Not caught, Brother-Chaplain,’ said Tybalain. ‘Surrendered. Delivered to us by his own act and admission.’

  ‘You are correct, Huntmaster, the difference is important. As is the timing.’ Asmodai stopped beside Cypher. ‘Get up!’

  The Fallen obeyed, slowly rising to his feet. He kept his hand deliberately away from his scabbarded weapon at all times, giving no sign of threat or even disobedience that the Chaplain could use as reason to inflict more punishment.

  ‘Is it coincidence that you appeared here and now, arch-traitor? Are we to accept that you have come before us by happenstance? Were you afraid that your accomplice would betray you first? Is that why you killed Astelan?’

  ‘I did not,’ said the Fallen.

  ‘You did so, right in front of me.’ Annael was incredulous at Cypher’s denial. ‘Do you call me a liar?’

  ‘Nothing of the sort. I saved your life. I shot the traitor. But that is not Merir Astelan, at least not as I knew him.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ growled Asmodai. He knelt beside the corpse and rolled it over. Half of the Space Marine’s head was missing, but his face was mostly intact. Asmodai rose quickly and retreated several steps. ‘What devilry is this? What have you done with the real Astelan?’

  ‘What?’ Tybalain and the others looked at the body again. The Huntmaster shook his head. ‘No, there must be some mistake. This is the target you sent us after. It has to be. We found his discarded armour a score of metres away.’

  ‘The mistake was yours, Huntmaster.’ Asmodai’s voice was icy with scorn. ‘You have failed me.’

  ‘We followed the transponder signal you transmitted,’ said Annael. ‘It led us directly here, Master.’

  ‘There was another signal,’ said Asmodai. ‘From orbit to the surface. Are you sure you detected no teleport code or energy wave?’

  ‘Nothing, Brother-Chaplain,’ Calatus said quickly. ‘I scanned the area as soon as we arrived. There were no traces of any such energy expenditure.’

  ‘Then he must still be here!’ roared Asmodai. ‘Split up! Search the ruins! I want that traitor captured!’

  Asmodai remained to keep guard on Cypher while the Black Knights divided to form a search pattern through the remains of the Slaughterkeep. Calatus swept the area with the auspex and declared that there was no human-sized living being within a kilometre, but this did not satisfy the Chaplain.

  ‘Every chamber and dungeon, I want you to look at it with your own eyes and tell me this place is empty. Astelan cannot have escaped.’

  Despite Asmodai’s insistence, and the confusion of the Black Knights as to how it might have happened, it transpired that Astelan had indeed eluded their clutches. When the squad reformed with the Chaplain the Master of Repentance was beyond irate.

  ‘Where is he?’ the Chaplain demanded, pointing his pistol into the face of Cypher. ‘Tell me, or by the Emperor I will end your treacherous existence.’

  ‘I do not know,’ the Fallen said quietly. ‘It has been a long time since I crossed paths with Merir Astelan, I know nothing of his current plans.’

  ‘Then how is it that you happened to be here?’ said Tybalain. ‘Why did we find you in these ruins?’

  ‘I detected the same incoming transmission that you did,’ the Fallen said, obviously choosing his words with care. ‘I thought it better that I approached you than you came upon me.’

  ‘Which brings us back to why you have allowed us to capture you,’ said Annael. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘I must speak with your leaders.’ Cypher turned his full attention to Asmodai. ‘It is imperative that I see the Supreme Grand Master. Anovel must be stopped.’

  ‘Anovel?’ Asmodai’s voice was low and dangerous. ‘You admit to knowing the traitor? He is aboard our ship and awaiting my attention.’

  ‘He has been captured? Then perhaps all is not lost. We might yet prevent this disaster.’

  ‘The traitor is ours now, his plans have come to naught,’ Asmodai assured the Fallen. ‘He cannot harm us any longer.’

  ‘I hope you are right, I really do. We must avert this catastrophe.’

  ‘Catastrophe? Disaster? You overestimate the reach of our foes.’

  ‘You are blind to it, Chaplain Asmodai. Do not take lightly what I have to tell you. Your foes seek nothing less than the utter annihilation of the Dark Angels.’

  Repercussions

  Cypher said nothing more as he was escorted at gunpoint to the Deathwing Land Raider Asmodai had requisitioned. Asmodai turned at the top of the boarding ramp and addressed the Black Knights.

  ‘Forget the name of Cypher. Forget this misbegotten traitor and serve your Chapter well.’ He uttered the keywords that would place this order into the subconscious of the Space Marines, a hypnotic command rigorously implanted during their earliest training, one that they would be unable to refuse or recall. ‘Non memorianda est. Speak nothing of this moment to another. Speak never of what transpired in the last two hours. Return to Grand Master Sammael and report for duty. Attend to your orders and fight well.’

  Thus instructed, the Black Knights returned to their steeds and rode away.

  Asmodai stepped into the Land Raider and saw that Cypher had seated himself close to the driver’s compartment. He had already pulled down the bracing harness used during rapid assault to lock a Space Marine’s armour in place. Asmodai sat opposite but remained unhindered, not wishing to restrict his movements in any way in the presence of the arch-traitor.

  ‘If indeed you are Cypher, as you say,’ he said out loud, completing the thought. ‘This episode with Astelan is a reminder that your kind are as devious as serpents. What proof can you offer to verify your claim? Why should I not simply extract your repentance now and put a bolt into your head, as you did your accomplice?’

  ‘He was not my accomplice,’ the Fallen replied. ‘I do not know how I can prove my claim. What evidence would you ever accept that comes from my lips?’

  ‘There is nothing you can say that I will believe,’ said Asmodai. He banged a fist against the bulkhead to signal to the driver. He felt a jolt as the Land Raider moved off a few seconds later, the hull trembling with the growl of powerful engines. ‘You are falsehood incarnate, especially if you are who you claim to be.’

  ‘So if I am the Lord…’ The prisoner checked himself as Asmodai’s hand strayed towards the haft of his crozius arcanum. ‘If I am the person you know as Cypher, I can be believed even less than if I am not? That is a paradoxical situation, you realise? If I am lying, you do not believe me because it is false. If I am telling the truth, you do not believe because I am telling the truth. How do I defend myself against your accusations?’

  ‘That is not my concern. It is yours. Believe me, your kind become very inventive beneath the caress of my Blades of Reason.’

  ‘If I offer a verifiable truth, would that persuade you?’

  ‘Truth is rarely objective in my experience, except by its absence. I would save your breath. You will need it for when you scream for forgiveness.’

  The stranger shook his head, whether in denial or disbelief it was unclear. After a few seconds he raised a hand, index finger jabbing towards Asmodai.

  ‘Starfire,’ said the Fallen.

  ‘What was that?’ Asmodai leaned forward. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘Starfire.’

  ‘How do you know this word?’ demanded the Interrogator-Chaplain, standing up. He swayed slightly as his armour compensated for the rocking motion of the Land Raider. ‘What does it mean to you?’

  ‘I am glad that I have your attention, Master Asmodai.’ The Fallen lowered his hand. ‘I know this word because, as I have already told you, I held the rank of Lord Cypher, a position of
authority amongst the Order commanded by Lord Luther.’

  ‘That name is a curse to my ears, even more than your title,’ snapped Asmodai.

  ‘I see that “starfire” is known to you, as I hoped. It was the command codeword that activated the orbital defence grid. Merir Astelan, the one you thought I had killed, uttered that word to open fire upon Lion El’Jonson.’

  It was possible that the Fallen was lying to Asmodai and had learned of the word by some other means, but the Chaplain doubted it. ‘Starfire’ had been recorded in the annals of the Lion’s sons as the last transmission detected from Caliban before the Fallen had opened fire on their primarch. Astelan’s testimony had included as much during visits from Boreas and Asmodai. It seemed an odd secret to pass on the off-chance a Fallen might be captured.

  Another matter made Asmodai believe the Fallen. Although the Chaplain knew that his straightforward mind was incapable of the mental somersaults of Sapphon in being able to think like the traitors, for all that he tried Asmodai could not come up with a reason why a Fallen would pretend to be Cypher. More to the point, why the real Cypher would not attempt to hide his identity.

  He activated the Land Raider’s comms unit and initiated a transmission to orbit, where the Penitent Warrior and Implacable Justice strike cruisers were engaged with the enemy flotilla. He coded the signal to Brother Sapphon, the Master of Sanctity, foremost of the Chaplains. It took several minutes for Asmodai’s superior to connect and the reply to arrive.

  ‘Brother Asmodai, I thought that you would be returning to orbit to oversee the internment of Anovel.’

  ‘Another matter, more pressing, has delayed me. Astelan has eluded the Black Knights. He is loose on the planet.’

  There was no reply for some time. When he spoke, Sapphon was reserved.

  ‘That is unfortunate, brother. I trust that you are organising the pursuit.’

  ‘Alas not, much as I wish to. A third traitor has been apprehended.’

  ‘A third? How many more of these wretches infest Tharsis?’

 

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