Altar of Cyrene

by Lucien Soulban

  Gabriel studied his father a moment, searching for some deception. He saw none, but felt a low rumble move beneath his feet. It wouldn't stop. The bombardment had begun further east, and was getting closer.

  'I will do no such thing,' Gabriel replied.

  'Then who's the coward now? You wish to kill me? Use your bolter, put me in your sights, and say: "Father, you are an innocent man in all this." Then pull the trigger.'

  'No,' Gabriel said without a shred of emotion. 'I came here so you could take your own life, not to execute you.' Gabriel put his bolt pistol on the altar. 'Reclaim your pride. Do what is right and let me remember you the hero, not the coward. It has one bolt left, for you.'

  Gabriel watched his father, while around them both, dust drifted down from the ceiling, shaken loose from the earth-torn tremors growing in magnitude. Esmond looked at the bolt pistol and picked it up, its size and weight ungainly in his feeble grip.

  Esmond shook his head. 'You're lying,' he said, and put down the gun. 'The man I raised wouldn't leave a bolt in a weapon, so he could be killed by it. And if you were so stupid, I still wouldn't turn the bolter on myself. Better my blood on your hands, so you might never wash it off.'

  Gabriel took the bolter from the altar and removed the clip.

  'Hiding behind the coming bombardment?' Esmond said. Asking me to kill myself, to spare you that pain? Who's the coward now?'

  'You are right that I am not such a fool as to stay defenceless.' Gabriel removed the round hidden in his belt pouch and shoved it into the clip with a small prayer. 'But I am not a coward. I will kill you.' He pointed the bolter at Esmond. 'But I had hoped that you would prove yourself the brave man I remembered.'

  'And I hope you are orphaned from everything and everyone you hold dear,' Esmond said. 'I curse the day your mother spat you out from between her legs.'

  'At least she had the courage to turn the bolter on herself,' Gabriel said before he pulled the trigger.

  * * *

  THE BLUES AND whites of Cyrene were gone, swallowed by a choking death. All that remained was a ceiling of black clouds and the occasional hellish glow of magma-fuelled fires from where the orbital bombardment had shattered the crust.

  Cyrene was dead. Yet, that did not stop the orbiting fleet from broad-siding the planet with their cannons.

  If Gabriel noticed his burning world through the starboard chancel's bay windows, however, he showed no emotion. Instead, he remained kneeling before the impassive Grand Master Qanox, a Grey Knight Space Marine who dwarfed the captain in stature. Qanox was impressive in his silver armour and the long strips of parchment intertwined around both arms. In his hands, he held a special writ, while at his side, a robed hierophant with tubes snaking in and out of her robes, read aloud:

  '...and let all know that by decree of the sovereign might of the Golden Throne of Terra, that Captain Gabriel Angelos acted with righteous diligence in requesting the destruction of Cyrene, and that he is found innocent of the heresy tainting the planet.'

  Gabriel accepted the writ.

  'You did well, last son of Cyrene,' Qanox said. 'Stand and rejoin your brethren, as an equal.'

  The room exploded into cheers as the Blood Ravens surrounded the captain, forcing him to his feet. Qanox nodded once and left the room with the hiero-phant in tow, leaving the Blood Ravens to their moment.

  Gabriel remained grim-faced throughout, even after they toasted him for his innocence and drifted off into smaller groups, talking of their recent exploits on the now-dead world. Only Isador remained by the captain's side.

  'Careful,' Isador said quietly and nodded to the writ.

  Gabriel suddenly realised he was gripping it so hard that he was creasing the parchment. He loosened his grip, but not his expression.

  'I thought you should know,' Isador said. 'We leave orbit tomorrow, the machine spirits willing.'

  'I thought we were to remain here for the week,' Gabriel said, momentarily forgetting his sorrow.

  'The fleet will remain, but we are to escort the Hellwatch Battlegroup. An ork fleet has entered the Tartarus system and the Imperium is dispatching us to handle the invasion.'

  'Tartarus? Why is that name familiar?' Gabriel asked.

  'It is a pilgrim world, with a very important saint. She lies near the Eye of Terror and has endured several Black Crusades.'

  Gabriel smiled. 'I know it now. Good libraries?'

  'Supposedly,' Isador said with a grin. 'There are some tomes that our Chapter's library needs desperately.'

  'Good. You can visit them when we are done with the orks. After these two weeks,' Gabriel said, staring out at Cyrene, 'a little war will be a welcome relief.'

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  ALTAR OF CYRENE