‘Sharben!’ he shouted. ‘Take one man and get a crowd suppression vehicle. Pick up the governor and get her to the palace. Hurry!’
Sharben nodded, her face invisible behind the mirrored visor of her helmet, and struck out in the direction of their vehicles, taking a member of his squad with her. The remaining judges in Ortega’s line backed steadily away from the crowd, the closest rioters unwilling to approach too close for fear of the shock mauls.
This current disturbance was pretty bad, but Ortega had contained riots far worse than this and could see that the waves of violence hadn’t spread out too far. Those in the centre of the mass of people had no one to vent their anger upon and simply pressed forwards. If Sharben could get to the governor quick enough then this situation could still be saved.
Ortega looked along the line for Sergeant Collix and waved him over.
‘Collix, I want you to hold the line here. Sharben and I are going to try to get the governor out of here.’
‘Aye, sir!’ shouted Collix, returning to his position.
Ortega turned and withdrew from the line, hooking his shock maul to his belt. He was unsure of Collix, but he was the most senior judge left in the line. Ortega reached up pulled down his vox-bead and patched into the governor’s security net.
‘This is Judge Ortega to Security Detail Primus. Remain where you are. You are heading into more trouble. We will be with you shortly. I repeat, remain where you are.’
Ortega pushed the vox-bead back inside his helmet without waiting for an acknowledgement and set off towards the governor.
He heard Collix shouting orders behind him, but couldn’t make out the words. He skidded to a halt as he heard the unmistakable sound of shotgun slides being racked and turned. Cold fear gripped him. The entire line of judges had their weapons aimed into the crowd. Emperor’s Throne, they were going to fire on civilians!
Ortega shouted, ‘Sling those damned weapons!’ but he was too late and the judges fired, point blank, into the crowd. The line of rioters convulsed, dozens of people falling dead. Gunsmoke obscured the casualties, but Ortega swore as he heard the primal shout of anger from those who had survived the shootings. The crowd surged forward and the shotguns fired again. More people fell, but there were thousands more pushing behind them. Men and women were crushed underfoot as they tripped over the bodies of the fallen and were trampled into the cobbles. The screams of the crowd turned from anger to panic.
In unison, the judges took a step forward, shotguns carried at their hips. They fired another two volleys into the crowd before Ortega reached them and screamed, ‘Hold your fire! Sling your weapons! That’s an order dammit! Do it now!’
The judges brought their weapons back to shoulder guard as the smoke cleared before them. Hundreds of bodies littered the ground, their bodies mangled by close range shotgun blasts. Blood streaked the cobbles of the plaza and the moans of the dying were barely audible over the screams of the panicking crowd. The rioters had fallen back for now, but Ortega realised they would be out for blood any second.
‘Fall back!’ yelled Ortega. ‘Everybody back to the Rhinos. We’re leaving – now!’
Ortega began hauling his men back from the battle line, some of them only now appreciating the carnage their weapons had wreaked. The stink of cordite, blood and sweat filled the air and Ortega knew he only had moments before everything went to hell. The judges backed quickly towards the boxy black forms of the Rhino armoured personnel carriers, their powerful engines idling throatily. Several had been modified to mount a heavy-duty water cannon on the cupola and Ortega shouted at them to fire as a swelling roar of anger rose from the crowd.
The crowd lurched towards the judges, hungry for vengeance. The water cannon opened up, firing powerful jets into the crowd and knocking the nearest people to the ground.
But there were too many rioters and not enough cannons. The wrathful mob descended upon the judges, clubbing at them with fists and iron-shod boots. Disciplined shield drill and accurate strikes with shock mauls cleared the Arbites enough space and Ortega hauled open the armoured side door of the nearest Rhino APC, hustling his men inside. He jumped onto the running boards and ducked his head inside the armoured transport.
‘We’re clear! Get us the hell out of here!’ he shouted to the driver. ‘Find where Sharben is and link with her, she’ll have the governor.’
The Rhinos began reversing, powering away from the surging crowd as the skilled drivers angled them towards the Arbites precinct. Ortega searched for Sharben and cursed as he saw the top of the crowd suppression vehicle she had commandeered in flames, not far from the armoured gate of the precinct house. The judge manning the water cannon lay sprawled over the weapon, his body ablaze. Ortega saw the left track hanging uselessly from the cogged wheel as rioters surrounded the vehicle, pressing in on its precious cargo. They rocked it from side to side in an attempt to tip it over.
Ortega slammed his shock maul on the roof of the Rhino and pointed towards Sharben’s immobilised vehicle.
‘Bring us alongside and stop beside it. Then get ready to go when I give you the word!’
The driver nodded his understanding and slewed the Rhino towards the stricken vehicle. Ortega hung on for dear life as the Rhino swung wildly from side to side.
‘Sharben, come in,’ called Ortega as they drew near the blazing tank.
‘Sharben here, sir,’ she replied over the vox, the strain evident in her voice. ‘If you’re anywhere near, we’d appreciate a ride out of here.’
‘We’re almost on top of you, Sharben. Hold on. Do you have the governor?’
‘Affirmative.’
‘Well done. Be ready for us.’
JUDGE JENNA SHARBEN felt the sweat run down her back inside her black leather armour. The heat inside the Rhino was becoming unbearable and it was only a matter of time until they baked to death. The vehicle was shaking violently and her civilian passengers were on the verge of hysteria. She muttered a quick thanks to the Emperor that Virgil Ortega was on his way. He might be a hard, humourless bastard, but he never left an officer behind.
‘Judge!’ snapped a man in a black suit whose name she didn’t know. ‘What are your plans? We must get to safety. I demand you facilitate our escape from this intolerable situation.’
She noticed a Vergen cartel pin on the man’s lapel and bit back an angry retort. She took a deep breath and said, ‘My superior officer is on his way with another vehicle and we will be underway soon.’
‘I am sure we are quite safe, Leotas—’ started Governor Mykola Shonai as the side of the vehicle tipped sickeningly upwards. Jenna realised the Rhino was finally going to tip onto its side.
‘Brace yourselves!’ she yelled, grabbing onto a stanchion and locking her legs around the crew bench. ‘We’re going over!’
The Rhino slammed onto its side with teeth-loosening force and an almighty crash. Jenna grabbed Governor Shonai’s robes as she fell flailing towards the side of the vehicle and hauled her upright. She heard a muffled cheer from outside and repeated impacts on the hull. None were likely to penetrate, but the noise was deafening. The man the governor had referred to as Leotas lay unmoving, blood pouring from a deep laceration on the back of his head. The other occupants of the Rhino appeared almost as battered.
She released her grip on the stanchion and ripped a medi-pack from the crew locker, squatting beside the unmoving Leotas. She immediately saw she was wasting her time: the man’s neck was broken and his skull fractured. The white gleam of bone was visible through his blood-matted hair.
‘Will… will he be alright?’ asked Governor Shonai, her voice quavering.
‘No,’ said Jenna bluntly. ‘He’s dead.’
Shonai’s eyes widened and her hands flew to her mouth in shock.
Jenna dropped the medi-kit as she heard the rumble of a powerful engine and the crack of gunfire from outside. A powerful impact struck the immobilised Rhino and she steadied herself on the side of the interior as armoured
boots thumped onto the wall that was now the roof above her.
The vox-bead in her ear crackled and she heard the clipped tones of Virgil Ortega.
‘Sharben! Open the crew door, we’re right next to you.’
Jenna clambered up the crew bench and spun the locking wheel, disengaging the door clamps. The door was wrenched open and weak sunlight filtered into the smoky crew compartment.
Ortega slung his maul and shouted, ‘Give me the governor!’
Jenna grabbed a handful of Shonai’s robes and dragged her to her feet. The governor cried out at Sharben’s roughness, but allowed herself to be pushed towards the exit. Ortega took Shonai’s outstretched hands and lifted her clear. He passed her onto another judge who waited at the crew door of his own Rhino, reaching back into Sharben’s vehicle. The burst of fire from his Rhino’s bolters had scattered the crowd from the damaged vehicle, but it was only a temporary respite.
‘Come on!’ he barked. ‘Give me the rest. Hurry up, dammit!’
One by one, Jenna lifted the other passengers towards safety and Ortega transferred them to his own vehicle. Repeated bursts of bolter fire over the heads of the crowd kept them back as the rescue continued. When everyone was clear Jenna Sharben climbed out in time to see the Rhino carrying the governor rumbling through the gates Of the Imperial palace.
‘Time for us to go, Sharben,’ observed Ortega as the mob closed in, howling as they realised they had been cheated of their quarry.
‘Yes, sir,’ agreed Sharben as they jumped to the ground and began sprinting towards the safety of the nearby Arbites precinct. Armoured pillboxes mounting more powerful water cannons hosed down their pursuers, breaking limbs with their force. More screams sounded behind the two judges, but they were clear of danger and pounded breathlessly into the defensive compound of their precinct.
The remainder of Ortega’s Rhinos were laagered in the centre of the courtyard, surrounded by battered judges.
Jenna Sharben removed her dented helmet and ran a gloved hand through her short, black hair and over her sweat-streaked face as Ortega marched towards the sullen judges. She followed as Ortega dragged off his helmet and advanced towards Collix.
Virgil Ortega was a fireplug of a man, short and stocky, but who radiated power and authority. Sweat gleamed on his bald head and dripped from his trimmed beard.
‘Sergeant! What the hell just happened out there? Did I give you an order to open fire?’
‘No, sir,’ replied Collix smoothly. ‘But in the circumstances I felt that such an order would have been given had you been present in the battle line.’
‘Then you show remarkably poor understanding of your superior officer, sergeant.’
‘Perhaps,’ admitted Collix.
‘There’s no perhaps about it, Collix. Our purpose is to enforce the laws of the Emperor, not massacre His subjects. Is that clear?’
‘The crowd were in contravention of those laws, sir.’
‘Don’t play the innocent with me, Collix. I’ll be keeping an eye on you’
Ortega glared at Collix for long seconds before stalking towards the precinct house. Without turning, he shouted, ‘Good work out there, Judge Sharben.’
Jenna smiled at this rare praise and watched as Ortega vanished within the precinct.
She sat on the running boards of one of the Rhinos and laid her head back, letting the events of the morning drain from her. She felt pleased at her conduct today. She knew she had fought and behaved like a veteran member of the Adeptus Arbites, rather than the fresh-out-of-training, junior officer she actually was. Methodically, she reviewed her actions and could find no fault with her performance.
Yes, she had done well.
‘YOU SHOULD ALLOW the palace surgeon to look at that cut, ma’am,’ observed Almerz Chanda, pressing lightly at a swelling purple bruise on his own tonsured skull. He too had been pulled from the Arbites Rhino, but had only sustained a bump to the head. The gash on the governor’s head was not deep and had been covered with synth-flesh by an Arbites corpsman, but this day had seen her nephew take a bullet for her and a close friend die in the chaos of the riot.
‘Governor?’ he said, when she did not reply.
‘I’m fine,’ she snapped, more brusquely than she had intended. She turned from the armoured glass of the window and smiled weakly at her chief advisor. ‘I’m sorry, Almerz. I’m just…’
‘No need to apologise ma’am, it has been a sad and terrible day for you.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Shonai. ‘Poor Dumak and Leotas, they died before their time.’
Chanda nodded. ‘We all feel their loss keenly, ma’am.’
‘That bullet should have hit me,’ said the governor. ‘Dumak was only twenty. I planned to name him as my successor when he came of age next year.’
‘He gave his life to save yours,’ pointed out Chanda. ‘He did his duty as a loyal member of the Shonai cartel. He will be remembered as a hero.’
‘And Leotas, how will he be remembered?’
‘As a dear friend who was taken from us by the Emperor for His own purpose.’
Governor Mykola Shonai smiled her thanks and said, ‘You are a true friend, Almerz, but I wish to be alone for a moment.’
‘As you wish, ma’am,’ nodded Chanda, closing the door behind him as he left the governor of Pavonis to her thoughts.
Mykola Shonai turned back to the window as she felt her iron composure slipping. Her friend and ally, Leotas Vergen, was dead. Gone. Just like that. Only this morning he had been talking animatedly of his daughter’s forthcoming marriage to the Taloun’s son, and the dawn of a new age of co-operation between the cartels, but now he was dead and the Vergen cartel without a leader. Much as she hated to admit it, she realised his dream of co-operation would probably die with him.
No doubt the Taloun would be pleased, plotting even now to move the marriage forward in order to establish his son as de-facto head of the Vergen cartel. Of course the Vergen cartel would now do everything possible to block the union, but Vergen’s daughter was known for her headstrong nature and the Emperor alone knew the ramifications of Leotas’s untimely death. Shonai felt sorry that the young couple’s relationship was now a political weapon, but that was politics on Pavonis, she reflected sourly.
She dismissed the couple’s doomed relationship from her thoughts and looked out over Liberation Square.
By the Emperor, it was a mess. Rain had begun to fall, washing the pools of blood and detritus of battle into the sewers, but Shonai knew that her troubles would not be so easily banished. Bodies lay strewn across the cobbles, weeping groups of people gathered around fallen friends and loved ones. How could a day that had started with such noble intentions have gone so horrifyingly wrong?
Pavonis had been a peaceful planet a few years ago, largely untroubled by the strife that afflicted the rest of the galaxy. The tithes had been paid on time and periodically the young men of Pavonis would gather for the mustering of the Emperor’s armies. In all respects Pavonis had been a model Imperial world. The people worked hard and were honoured for their labours. Riots were things that happened on other worlds.
But oh, how times had changed.
Crumpled parchments littered her desk, each one telling of similar scenes across the globe. In Altemaxa the workers had stormed the Office of Imperial Outlays and gutted the building with fire. Rioters at Praxedes had prevented the crew of an off-world trader from manning their vessel and looted the man’s cargo. A petition from the trader for compensation was on its way to her office even now.
There had been yet another fire-bombing by the Church of Ancient Ways, killing thirty people and irreparably damaging the production facilities of two of the Vergen’s manufactorum. A member of the Abrogas cartel had been stabbed in one of the Jotusburg ghettos and was lucky to have survived, though what he had been doing there in the first place wasn’t clear. And near Caernus IV, yet another supply ship had been ambushed by the eldar pirates that had been plaguing Pavonis for th
e last six years. It had been carrying material and goods that were supposed to go some way to reducing the huge debt Pavonis owed to the Imperium in late tithes.
She felt the burden of each failure crashing her with their vast weight and wondered what she could have done differently. She had tried her best to meet the tithes required by the Administratum, but there was simply nothing more she could squeeze from Pavonis.
Her production facilities were stretched to the limit and few of those goods they could produce were actually getting through. Her ‘tithe tax’ had been an attempt to make up the deficit until the crisis could be resolved, but it had the people rioting in almost every major city. She had tried to explain the situation to her people, to show them that the hardships they were enduring were for the ultimate good of Pavonis, but no matter which way she turned, there seemed to be no escape from the inevitable downward spiral of events.
And here, in her own capital, she had been shot at. She still couldn’t quite believe it. When the first shot had echoed shockingly around the plaza, Dumak had rushed to her side and tried to pull her to safety. She closed her eyes, trying to will the image of his exploding face from her mind. He’d fallen and carried her to the floor of the podium, his blood and brains leaking over her as he spasmed in death.
Mykola Shonai had cleaned her hair and sent her robes of office to have his death washed from them. She had changed into fresh clothes of plain blue, but imagined she could still feel the stickiness of her nephew’s blood on her skin. Her heart ached for her younger sister, remembering that she had been so proud when Mykola had confided in her that Dumak would one day take over the Shonai cartel from her.
She saw priests and local apothecaries moving through the crowd, tending to the wounded or administering the Emperor’s Absolution to the dead. She offered a prayer for the souls of the departed and took a deep breath. She was a planetary governor of the Imperium and she had to keep control. But it was so difficult when everything kept slipping from her grasp, no matter how hard she tried to hold on.
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