The Purge

by Anthony Reynolds

  They continued on to the east, sweeping up blasted hills and over smoking outlying estates and an ancient forest that had been reduced to char and embers. They passed a trio of Deathdealer Night Gaunts striding back along a ridge of blasted scree towards the muster point and the waiting mass lifters. The Titans were hung with kill banners and pennants. More kills would be emblazoned upon them after they were secured aboard the ugly Mechanicum ships in orbit above; Legio Mordaxis had proved its worth on the battlefield once again. The swiftly striding god-machines, hunched and beetle-backed as they were, each bore ordnance capable of laying waste to entire companies.

  The lead Titan, its black carapace edged in yellow, swung its heavy head towards the Stormbird passing a hundred metres to its flank and let out a world-shuddering blast of its warhorn. A greeting? A challenge? Sor Talgron did not know. The other two war machines let out their own ululating, booming cries, and then they were past them, angling towards the ice-capped mountain range looming on the horizon, reminiscent of the towering peaks of the Imperial Palace on Terra. Sor Talgron forcibly pushed the comparison from his mind.

  Initial surveys of the region had revealed no enemy presence, but that had clearly been incorrect. Some form of shielding concealed the outpost still, perhaps, for Dal Ahk had reported that fleet imaging and drone scans had come back with nothing. It refused to appear on any augury scan or sweep. They were going in blind.

  They soared through the icy peaks, locked to the blinking beacon planted by the recon squads.

  'I see it,' said the ranking flight officer. Sor Talgron leant forwards, squinting past the blinking red target-marker hovering in the air. He was unable to see anything until they were right in front of it, so well concealed was the structure from the air.

  'By the blood of the Urizen,' said Sor Talgron. 'How did Loth find it?'

  'I don't know, captain,' said the officer. 'Shuttles and gunships scoured this region and came up with nothing. Perhaps he got lucky.'

  'He gets lucky a lot, then,' said Sor Talgron, knowing that luck had nothing to do with it. Loth was the best reconnaissance operative in the company, perhaps the whole Legion. He had proved himself time and time again, across a dozen campaigns and systems.

  A landing pad had been built into the mountainside, tucked beneath a deep overhang. The Stormbird came in under the protruding stone shelf. A XVII Legion lander was already there, and legionaries stood awaiting his arrival. The shuttle in the blue of the XIII was tucked further back.

  Sor Talgron's vox clicked. Closed channel. Dal Ahk.

  'Captain, why would the enemy come here?' asked Dal Ahk. 'Battle is still ongoing on several fronts. Ultramarines still live and breathe on this world. They have lost the war, and have no hope of extraction. Even if this is a communication hub, why come here? There is no fleet within the system to communicate with.'

  'The enemy are nothing if not rational. There's clearly a reason that we are not seeing,' replied Sor Talgron. 'I want to know what it is.'

  Silence, then a click as Dal Ahk's vox-link closed.

  The master of signal was uneasy at Sor Talgron's decision, he knew. He had not said as much, but it was obvious nonetheless. Sor Talgron understood. Coming here in person was unnecessary. More than this, it was out of character.

  The Stormbird's wings adjusted as the thrusters brought it in onto the landing pad. Taloned claws clacked as they were lowered down.

  His unadorned, standard-issue Umbra pattern bolter was locked to his thigh, and the familiar weight of his flanged mace hung on his left hip. His newly acquired volkite pistol was holstered on his right side.

  Cold mountain air rushed into the Stormbird as the assault ramp opened once more. Without a word, Sor Talgron turned and strode down the length of the gunship's interior and out into the sun.

  Sor Talgron's expression hardened at Dorn's words.

  'The loyalty of the Seventeenth has never been questioned,' he said, not even attempting to keep the anger out of his voice. 'We have been accused of being overzealous in our... adoration of the Emperor in the past, but never has anyone doubted our loyalty or our devotion to the Imperium.'

  Archamus lifted a slate, scrolling through a swathe of data with a gesture.

  'You've been very active since your posting here,' he said. 'Patrolling the length and breadth of the Solar System, regulated inspections to Mars and the shipyards of Jupiter and Luna, maintaining a presence within the Imperial Pal-'

  'Such is my duty!' said Sor Talgron, interrupting. His expression was thunderous. 'If you have something you wish to accuse me of, then just come out and say it. Stop dancing around the issue.'

  Archamus put the data-slate down on the table.

  'Where have you been these last two months?' he said.

  'This is an interrogation now, my lord?' said Sor Talgron, pointedly looking away Archamus to address Rogal Dorn.

  The primarch's expression was unreadable, and he said nothing.

  'Not unless you have something you wish to conceal,' said Archamus.

  A dangerous stillness had settled over Rogal Dorn like a mantle. Sor Talgron felt his diamond-hard eyes boring into him.

  'Battle-Captain Garro,' said the primarch, finally. 'I know you have important matters to attend to. I thank you for your time. You may leave us.'

  Garro slammed his fist into his chest once more, and bowed to Lord Dorn. Casting a last glance towards Sor Talgron, he walked from the room. The door clicked shut behind him. Rogal Dorn continued to stare at Sor Talgron.

  'Where were you?' he said.

  'I journeyed to the Shrine of Unity, as I am sure you are already aware,' Sor Talgron growled. He raised his eyebrows at Archamus. 'Satisfied?'

  'The comet?' said the master of huscarls. 'For what purpose?'

  Sor Talgron looked him squarely in the eyes. 'I went there to set things right,' he said.

  'Explain,' said Dorn.

  Sor Talgron's reluctance to do so was clear. The shrine was a potent symbol of Imperial strength and unified purpose. It had been carved into an immense comet that routinely swung back into the Solar System several times every thousand years, tracking an irregular elliptical route around the sun. In millennia past, when its trajectory was stable and more accurately predicted, it had worn a different name, but what it was had been lost in the murky fog of time. The comet had been seen in the heavens when the Emperor had won the Unification Wars on Terra, and it was for his victory that the shrine had been created.

  Sor Talgron was unwilling to speak before outsiders, but Dorn's expression was unforgiving and demanded an answer.

  'In the past the Seventeenth Legion has exhibited traits that some decreed as... at odds with the secular nature of the Imperium,' said Sor Talgron.

  He lowered his eyes as he recalled the rebuke that his Legion had suffered at Monarchia. The pain of it still festered within him, though he had never been a devout soul by any regards. That he did not want to speak these words aloud was plain, as plain as his anger at being forced to recount his Legion's shame.

  'The Legion has since seen the error of its ways,' he said.

  'And the comet?'

  'The comet's orbit will see it return through the Solar System in a matter of years. I was ordered to remove certain edifications that had been erected upon the comet before it did so.'

  The primarch snorted. 'My little brother can be such a fool,' he said.

  'Lorgar built a temple deifying the Emperor on the Shrine of Unity, didn't he?' said Archamus, catching up a moment later. 'Before Monarchia. You were there to tear it down, before anyone found out.'

  Anger surged through Sor Talgron at the casual mention of his primarch's name and the disdain in the Imperial Fist's tone, and it took all his will to hold it in check. Rogal Dorn still watched him, unblinking.

  'As I said,' said Sor Talgron, meeting Dorn's gaze. 'The Seventeenth has since seen the error of its ways. Already we have been shamed before all the Legions. The Urizen did not wish any further e
mbarassment.'

  Sor Talgron looked at Archamus.

  'Satisfied? We are not traitors. I am no traitor.'

  'None of us believed the Warmaster was capable of betrayal,' said Archamus.

  Sor Talgron's hands clenched into fists, and he was about to speak, but Dorn held up his hand to silence him.

  'Enough,' he said, an iron finality in his voice. 'And Archamus, you are wrong — Horus was always capable of these actions. I've never met a man more capable, I just did not expect him to take this path. I thought even his arrogance had a limit, but it would seem I was mistaken.' His expression was uncompromising. Anger simmered just below the surface. 'I am not often mistaken.'

  Archamus was glaring at Sor Talgron, as if he was responsible for his rebuke.

  'Lorgar is subtle,' said Dorn. 'He chose well in posting you here.'

  'My lord?' said Sor Talgron.

  'In order to assure the Emperor that his very public rebuke was understood, he sent you to Terra,' said Dorn. 'He chose well.'

  'I was sent here to bolster the Legion presence...'

  'But why you, of all his vaunted captains?'

  'I do not know, my lord,' Sor Talgron replied. 'Perhaps Lord Aurelian was displeased with me.'

  'It chafes you that you are not on the front lines, fighting with your brothers. I can understand that better than most,' said Dorn, bitterness ringing his words. 'But that is not why Lorgar sent you here. This is not a punishment.'

  'Sometimes it feels like it, my lord,' said Sor Tolgron.

  'You are a different breed from the rest of the Seventeenth Legion. You are practical and pragmatic, where your brothers are overzealous. You are a soldier, with no pretences of being otherwise. Most of your bloodline spoke like priests. It is distasteful. This is why Lorgar sent you here.'

  'My lord, the Seventeenth was rebuked for venerating the Emperor too deeply,' said Sor Talgron. 'The Legion has changed.'

  'Did you ever venerate the Emperor, captain?' said Dorn.

  'My lord, I... Forgive me. I am not comfortable speaking of such things.'

  'I do not believe that you did,' Dorn continued. 'Your faith is in strategy and tactics, boots on the ground and armour upon your back. Your faith lies in bolters and blood, logistics and battlefield commands. Tell me I am wrong.'

  Sor Talgron said nothing.

  'In truth, I'm jealous that the Seventeenth got to you first,' said Dorn. 'You would have made a fine Imperial Fist.'

  Sor Talgron was silent, unsure how to respond. 'Thank you, my lord,' he murmured at last.

  'Indeed, you are the perfect captain for Lorgar to send to Terra to reassure the Emperor that all is well within the Seventeenth.'

  'All is well within the Seventeenth,' said Sor Talgron.

  'The question of your loyalty is not the reason I have brought you here, captain,' said Dorn. 'Let me clarify my position. There is no reason for me to regard the Seventeenth as anything but a Legion loyal to the Emperor. As you say — if anything, your Legion has proven itself perhaps too loyal in the past. I do not believe you or your Legion are traitors. That is not the reason why I locked down your fleet in the Luna shipyards. It is not the reason I allowed you alone to cross the palace's threshold. It is not the reason why your garrisoned warriors here have been placed under guard.'

  'Why then?'

  'I have to be seen to treat all the Legions the same. To do otherwise would be to risk accusations of favouritism and cause more rifts between my brothers. Your warriors are not the only ones within the Imperial Palace that I have imprisoned.'

  Sor Talgron frowned. 'What others?'

  'The Crusader Host,' replied Rogal Dorn, cracking his immense knuckles one by one.

  'You've imprisoned them? All of them?'

  'All of them,' said Dorn.

  'Even those of Legions you know to be loyal?'

  'Who can say how deep this rot goes?

  'The Legions will not like it,' said Sor Talgron, folding his arms across his chest. 'Some less than others.'

  'I do not care,' said Dorn. 'I am trying to ensure the Imperium does not fall down around us. I will do anything to ensure that it does not. Anything.'

  'You've imprisoned the Imperial Fists who stand as part of the Crusader Host, then?' said Sor Talgron.

  'No. The Imperial Fists are no longer a crusading Legion, therefore our representatives within the Preceptory have been withdrawn. We have been named the Emperor's praetorians. It is difficult to guard the palace if we are under lock and key.'

  'I do not disagree, though that may be seen differently by others,' said Sor Talgron. 'It sounds like there is one rule for your Fists, and one for everyone else.'

  'It is what it is,' said Dorn.

  'And what of the Sixth Legion's watch-pack stationed with you?' asked Sor Talgron. 'What of those sons of Russ? You have imprisoned them as well, then?'

  Dorn's face was stony. 'No. They operate under orders from the Sigillite. They are exempt.'

  'Pardon my bluntness, my lord, but does that not reek of hypocrisy?'

  'This is the way it must be.'

  Sor Talgron looked away, gathering his thoughts. 'This is all just politics, isn't it?' he said.

  'At a time when it has been proven that any Legion could turn against the Imperium, at least theoretically, I must be seen to be proactively ensuring Terra's security while also walking a fine line to keep the loyal Legions together,' said Dorn. 'Yes, this is a political decision.'

  The primarch gave him a moment to let that all sink in.

  'You are angry,' he said, finally. 'I understand that. You return to Terra to find your legionaries imprisoned. Any leader would be angry.'

  'As you say,' said Sor Talgron.

  'In a perfect universe I would have no need to lock up loyal legionaries that could be of use garrisoning the palace should the worst possibility eventuate,' said Dorn. 'This is not a perfect universe.'

  'So what happens next?' asked Sor Talgron.

  'Your garrison will be released and transported back to your fleet. The locks on your ships will be lifted. You will join them in orbit, and then you will leave. By the time tomorrow dawns, there will be no member of the Word Bearers Legion within the Solar System. Your time here has came to on end.'

  'My lord?'

  'Seven other Legions will join my retribution fleet in mustering upon the Isstvan System,' said Dorn. 'You will be there too, and will take the fight to the Warmaster.'

  The primogenitor of the Imperial Fists was not known to be as unpredictable as some of his brothers, but he was undoubtedly one of the most powerful beings in creation, and Sor was not familiar with his disposition and humours. He chose his words carefully.

  'With respect, my lord, my orders were to maintain a Seventeenth Legion presence in the Solar System,' said Sor Talgron, weighing his words. 'They came from Lord Aurelian himself. I cannot disobey his command.'

  'Consider Lorgar's orders overruled,' said Dorn. 'This is an honour, captain. You will be a part of the battle that will set things right.'

  'No, it is merely politically convenient to send me away,' Sor Talgron countered. 'If I take the Thirty-Fourth to join the muster, will that not leave Terra more vulnerable?'

  'The Imperial Fists have been named as the Emperor's praetorians,' said Archamus. 'It is our duty to protect Terra.'

  'An invasion could be on its way here now,' said Sor Talgron. 'If that is the case, you will have need of my legionaries.'

  'Our duty, not yours,' Archamus repeated. Sor Talgron met the Imperial Fist's glare with one of his own.

  'You would let your own pride put Terra in jeopardy?' he said.

  Archamus's blade was half out of its scabbard when Dorn slammed his fist down into the centre of the table. He pulled the blow; if he hadn't, the table would have been nothing but splinters scattered across the length of the chamber.

  'Enough,' he said. He did not raise his voice; he did not have to. Archamus sheathed his sword, though his face remained murder
ous.

  'This will end where it began,' said Dorn. 'At Isstvan.'

  'If I was a traitor, you'd be sending me into the hands of your enemy, unharmed,' said Sor Talgron.

  'I have enough legionaries incarcerated here as it is.'

  'With all respect, my lord, I believe this is a mistake.'

  'Your protestations are noted, captain,' said Rogal Dorn. 'Noted, and ignored. You are leaving Terra. But there is one last matter for us to discuss — the Seventeenth's representative within the Crusader Host.'

  'Volkhar Wreth,' said Sor Talgron. 'Surely you cannot doubt where his loyalties lie?'

  'No, he is perhaps the only other member of the Crusader Host that I do not doubt. It is one of the reasons why I am releasing him into your custody. One more loyal legionary to join the muster.'

  'And one less to guard here within the walls of the palace,' said Sor Talgron. 'One less potential enemy within.'

  'That too,' said Dorn, steepling his fingers before him.

  'He will be appreciative, my lord,' said Sor Talgron, bowing his head. 'A legionary should face his fate on the battlefield, not linger in a prison cell.'

  The primarch nodded. 'He will be isolated from the others. They cannot know that he is being released. I will arrange for him to be transferred to a different holding location. Less security. You'll be granted clearance. Would that I could be rid of them all as easily.'

  FIVE

  'The shaft goes deep into the heart of the mountain,' said Reconnaissance Sergeant Loth. He spat on the landing pad deck. The acidic transhuman saliva sizzled as it ate into the metalwork. 'Three hundred metres, straight down.'

  Loth had taken off his helm, augmented with non-standard sensor arrays and targeters, to give his report to Sor Talgron. One of his eyes had been replaced with a bionic, the lens whirring faintly as it focused. His one remaining organic eye was cold and utterly soulless. The captain noted the twelve-toothed cog symbol branded into his forehead, marking him as having received training on Mars.