by Gav Thorpe
‘No disrespect was meant, Lieutenant Navar.’
‘What do you really think we’ll find?’ Neroka had known Hef far longer, since they had both been children growing up in the same hab-cavern on Deliverance, and he was less abashed in his opinion. ‘The close range scans told us nothing more. The ship is an empty wreck. You’re too cautious these days.’
‘I almost killed an ally on Carandiru because of recklessness. It is better to take care now than rue hastiness later. And you are wrong – this isn’t a wreck. As far as we can tell, we just have to restart the reactor and it’s as good as the day it left the orbital dock.’
‘No lifesigns, Hef. It’s abandoned.’
‘The question is, why?’
Any speculation was cut short as the Raptor wielding the las-cutter stepped back and the sliced portion of hull fell inwards with a resounding clang. Within moments the Raven Guard were through the breach, their bolters at the ready as they covered the entry chamber, the gloom beyond broken by the glow of helmet lenses as auto-senses scoured the darkness.
‘Split by combat squads, full sweep,’ Hef commanded. He pointed his chainsword ahead, the only weapon he carried because his hands were too unwieldy to operate a bolter anymore. ‘You have your scan results and grid routes from the briefing, leave nowhere unchecked. Augurs set for wide spectrum analysis. Any trouble, alert and withdraw. Do not get engaged in a fight until we understand what we’re facing.’
The Raven Guard dispersed quickly fore and aft, up and down, moving out in a search pattern that Hef and Neroka had devised from the scan data. The lieutenant and his command squad headed up towards the prow, their zone of control centred on the scout vessel’s command bridge and the surrounding chambers.
There was nothing to disturb their advance, the only sounds the wheeze and click of power armour, and the grunts and snorts from some of the more facially disfigured Raptors. With the environmental systems virtually on standby the air was thin, breathable for a legionary, but only just. There was no whine of fans or thrum of generators and the squads advanced into darkness.
Devor frowned, his skinless brow furrowing.
‘Shutting down a reactor takes time. You can’t just throw a switch. I would say that someone was attempting to hide this vessel, hoping to eradicate their energy signature.’
‘Why not kill the identity transmitter as well?’ said Hef. ‘It was that signal that tipped us to the ship’s existence.’
‘Whatever they were hiding from wasn’t fooled, so perhaps they sent out a low energy pulse as a distress signal?’ suggested Neroka.
The fourth member of the squad cut into the conversation. His name was Kaddian Styrus, one of the First Nine, the initial recruits subjected to the Raptor creation process. Four of his companions from that fateful day were now dead, and Hef’s contingent regarded Kaddian’s continued presence as a sort of talisman.
‘It could be that the abandoned ship was a decoy. It looks crippled, almost dead from a distance. In the time an enemy discovered the truth, the Space Wolves might have slipped away by some other means.’
‘The command records on the bridge will have the answers,’ Hef replied. ‘At least, some of them.’
They continued, progress slow but methodical, checking every stairwell, conveyor shaft, cupboard, weapons locker and chamber on their route. The touch of the Space Wolves was unmistakeable. The party found banners with Fenrisian images and runes on them, all kinds of trophies from hunting and battle, and many personal belongings that had been left behind.
‘These Wolves bring their home with them,’ remarked Devor.
Hef lifted up the polished skull of a canine animal. The incisors were as long as his claws. ‘Trinkets and souvenirs.’
‘They certainly take up a lot of space,’ muttered Neroka. ‘You can tell these are warriors that grew up beneath the open sky.’
‘I hear they are fearsome fighters, the Emperor’s watch dogs,’ said Devor.
‘And I’ve heard Commander Branne be less complimentary,’ Hef replied. ‘I think that Lord Corax and Russ might have... argued in the past.’
Neroka laughed. ‘Is there a primarch our lord did not fall out with, at some time or another?’
‘Are you suggesting the fault lies with Lord Corax?’
‘There are few of his brothers that he has not chastised as self-promoting. The others think him churlish to belittle their achievements. Or so I hear.’
‘The Emperor didn’t create the primarchs for mass adulation.’
‘But it is a consequence, all the same.’
The two of them fell silent as the squad reached the next chamber. Kaddian went in first beside the last squad member, another ‘smooth’ called Calda Sentox, who carried the squad’s bulky plasma cannon.
‘It’s clear,’ he announced.
Hef looked in. The walls were hung with banners and wolf-skin totems. A long table was covered with another pelt upon which numerous amulets and other jewellery were laid. There were also several large, gilded fangs and another skull, all inscribed with angular runes. At first the lieutenant thought the chamber was the quarters of an officer, but there was no cot or personal locker.
‘A trophy room?’ said Kaddian, pointing his bolter towards an ork skull amongst the animal remains.
‘I don’t think so.’ Hef gestured at two benches lined up in front of the ornament-filled table. ‘More like some kind of... shrine?’
‘Why would the Space Wolves have a fane on their ship?’ asked Devor. ‘What are they worshipping?’
‘I’m not sure I want to know,’ said Neroka. ‘Not with some of the things we’ve seen in the past few years.’
‘More questions, and no answers,’ muttered Hef. The lieutenant waved for his squad to leave. ‘Let’s get to the bridge.’
They cleared the rest of the command deck, leaving the strategium located at the top of the ship until last. Hef was about to open the doors when he received a contact across the vox. He recognised the voice of Sergeant Foss, one of the squad that had been sent to investigate the weapon batteries in the lower decks.
‘Third detachment reporting. Lieutenant, we’ve found something down here. Bodies.’
‘Who? What sort of bodies?’
‘Three of them. Space Wolves. I think. Wearing their armour.’
‘You think?’
‘They’ve been... disfigured. You should come and see, lieutenant.’
‘Very well, everybody secure their position and hold fast. Kaddian, Calda – remain here, be on your guard.’
It took a while to reach the prow portion of the ship without the power for conveyors and elevators, even for the augmented legionaries. They came across the first of Foss’ squad guarding an armoury, the huge security doors open, the locks bearing the hallmark scars of a melta-charge.
Neroka pointed to the ruined mechanisms. ‘Someone blasted their way in. I suppose they didn’t have the codes.’
Hef examined the doors more closely.
‘Not so. These locks were destroyed from the inside.’
This unsettling news quelled any further chatter, and the lieutenant moved on until he found Foss standing in the corridor close to the entrance to the lower reactor decks. The sergeant said nothing. He stepped aside and waved Hef and his companions into the next chamber.
It was an outer security lock, the doors to the main reactor still sealed. There was little to distinguish the chamber from any number of others around the vital parts of the ship, except for the battle-damage on the walls and the three power-armoured bodies lying on the deck.
The colours were unmistakeably those of the VI Legion. The Space Wolves’ war-plate was broken and battered in many places, and they wore no helms. Their faces had been horribly mutilated, burned and cut beyond recognition. As for the visible markings on the armour, there was nothing that He
f recognised.
‘Anybody see rank indicators? Squad icons, maybe?’
The others shook their heads, equally baffled. Neroka crouched next to one of the corpses. His hands moved across the jagged holes and tears in the war-plate.
‘Bolt wounds, power sword cuts, chainswords, maybe even a plasma detonation... Whoever attacked them really wasn’t taking chances that they might survive.’
‘Who?’ Hef asked. ‘Who wanted them dead? We’ve seen nothing of the attackers. No bodies, no sign of forced boarding, no battle except in this room.’
Devor paced around the chamber, examining the blast marks and molten scars on the walls.
‘Looks more like an execution,’ he said. ‘Concentrated clusters of fire. Maybe whoever was locked in the armoury escaped and ambushed these three, before reaching the main reactor.’
‘It makes as much sense as any other explanation.’ Hef looked back at Sergeant Foss. ‘Have the remains taken back to the Fearless. We don’t know what happened here, but we can mark the passing of these warriors properly.’
‘Yes, lieutenant.’
Hef left the chamber, disturbed by what he had seen. There was something about the bodies that didn’t sit right, aside from the fact that they existed at all. Devor was similarly vexed and put his concern into words as they made their way back to where Kaddian and Calda waited.
‘I know there wasn’t much left of them, but don’t you think that some of that damage looked like it came from inside their armour?’
‘Bolt detonations can do that,’ said Neroka. ‘A chainsword can rip up power armour pretty well too, or pass straight through, depending on how it hits.’
Devor didn’t seem convinced but held his tongue. They kept their silence until they reached the main command bridge again. The doors were opened by simple keypad, no codes required. Stepping inside, Hef scanned the small chamber and saw nothing out of place. It was dark, the systems on minimal power, but he could see no signs of damage or fighting. The fitful glow of scanner screens illuminated empty chairs and glinted from unmanned consoles.
‘Devor, get their navigational logs online. Neroka, I want to see the records from the weapon arrays. We might learn something.’
The two Raven Guard legionaries busied themselves at the panels while Hef paced the room, his closer inspection revealing nothing out of the ordinary.
It was Neroka that found what he was looking for first.
‘No weapons activity in the last thirty days, Hef. If they got into a fight, they didn’t fire a shot to defend themselves. Void shields haven’t been active either. If someone got the jump on them, they did it with total surprise and were on board before the Space Wolves could even activate the point defence turrets.’
A negative chime sounded. ‘Strange,’ muttered Devor.
‘What have you got?’ asked Hef.
‘Until seven days ago, the ship was in orbit above a moon of the second planet in this system. It’d been there for fourteen days before. Someone sent it out-system on purpose. Last warp jump was a little over twenty days ago.’
‘That makes no sense,’ said Kaddian. ‘Who would send a perfectly capable ship into the void? Why would they do that?’
‘No command logs, so I suppose we’ll never know.’
Hef leaned against the main command throne to consider his options.
‘Something has happened here, and not good, whatever way you look at it. We should send a warning that there may be enemies in this sector.’
‘Wait for reinforcements?’ suggested Devor.
Hef caught Neroka looking at him. Though it was impossible to see the sergeant’s expression behind his helm, he could make a good guess at his old friend’s thoughts.
‘It would take too long,’ the lieutenant said. ‘Whatever happened here occurred in the last few days. If the Space Wolves encountered traitors–’
‘Or are traitors,’ Neroka interrupted him.
‘Maybe. Either way, the enemy could be away from here before we catch up with them. The only place we’re going to find more answers is on that moon.’
‘So what do we do?’ asked Devor.
‘We’ll finish the sweep and return to the Fearless. Full silent running, reflex shields on, we’ll move in-system and see what there is to see.’
‘And this ship?’
‘We’ll leave it here for now. When we’ve resolved the current situation, we will let Legion command know its whereabouts and they can send a recovery team. For the moment, let it carry on drifting. Let’s leave no sign that we were ever here.’
Enveloped by a layer of reflex shielding that all but nullified its energy output, the Fearless ghosted towards the second planet of the star system. The necessities of silent running required that the scanners performed only at minimal, passive power settings, meaning that Hef knew little of what they would find on the world until they were almost in high orbit. Such was the price of secrecy, but the opportunity to approach unheralded outweighed any shortcomings of the technology.
As when they discovered the Space Wolves strike vessel, Hef, Neroka and Devor were at their stations. The lieutenant waited in silence, eyes flicking from one display to another, looking for any telltale sign of danger.
A radiation sensor bank spiked, detecting an energy source thirty thousand kilometres ahead, almost out of detection range. It was in orbit on the far side of the planet. Hef resisted the urge to order an active scan, knowing that such a move could just as likely reveal their presence as it would provide any further information. Instead, he left it to Neroka to compile a report from the other functioning sensory equipment. It took several minutes, but eventually the sergeant turned and spoke quietly to his commander.
‘Definitely an orbiting ship, not a static source. Sensor flicker shows a residual wash from orbit-to-surface communication, directed at one of the moons. Not strong enough to be an installation. I would say landed troops. Energy signature is either a strike cruiser-class ship at full readiness, or something larger with systems on standby, perhaps a battle-barge.’
‘A battle-barge? We can’t hope to match that sort of firepower, or troop complement.’
‘It’s more likely to be something comparable to the Fearless, Hef. Who would be orbiting a world with troops active on the surface but weapons on standby? We can probably take them with the element of surprise on our side.’
Unasked, Devor added his opinion from the communication console.
‘We have the edge. There’s no chance they can know there’s another ship here. Perfect for a stealth attack.’
‘Not until we know more,’ said Hef. ‘If we move in for the attack, I want to be sure. What can you tell from the comm-feed?’
‘No idea what they’re saying to each other, but there are definitely ground troops on the largest natural satellite. Can’t decode the messages but the databanks say it’s a variation on a cryptoband used by the Sons of Horus.’
Neroka growled his displeasure. ‘The Warmaster’s own scum, come to pay us a visit. We should give them a welcome they won’t survive.’
‘I’m not convinced,’ said Hef. ‘If the Sons of Horus are what the Librarians detected, we should relay that information back to Lord Corax and await instruction. They could be in other systems nearby, too. But the Space Wolves being here, that I don’t understand. Where are they? Captured perhaps?’
‘We can’t just run away,’ said Neroka.
It took some effort for the lieutenant to keep his voice quiet in the face of such an accusation.
‘No one is running away, sergeant. I have yet to finish my assessment. If the Sons of Horus have warriors on the ground, we need to know what they are doing. It might also show us what brought the Space Wolves here.’
‘We can’t scan too close to that other ship,’ said Devor. ‘I don’t think we’ll be able to break thei
r code system either. How are we going to find out what they’re doing?’
‘The best way.’ Hef grinned at the thought of some combat action. ‘Neroka and I will go and have a look for ourselves.’
The surface of the moon proved to be a mass of chasms and crags, the ruddy, iron-heavy rock striated with glittering layers. The atmosphere was nominally breathable but the Raven Guard marched in full war-plate, which meant that Hef’s small contingent was composed of Raptors capable of wearing their helms. His felt stuffy, the improvised filtration systems not quite up to standard specification.
The journey from their landing site was several dozen kilometres over rough terrain, but low gravity and enhanced physiology made short work of the distance despite the deep cliffs and steep gorges that had to be crossed. The broken terrain, and its metallic composition, was perfect for the Raven Guard to approach the Sons of Horus undetected, both visually and by the enemy’s scans from orbit.
Nearing the site of the surface transmissions, Hef and the rest of his infiltration team headed for high ground to survey the route ahead. They located a blade-sharp ridge, four hundred metres high, overlooking the area of the communication they had intercepted from orbit. The Raven Guard climbed the ridge carefully.
Beyond, the ground fell away swiftly into a deep ravine that stretched as far as the horizon. Close by, no more than a kilometre away, Thunderhawks sat in the shadow of a tall spur of rock, and around the dropships were stockpiles of metal boxes and barrels, guarded by patrolling Space Marines in the livery of the Sons of Horus.
The sky in the distance was lit by las-fire and the blaze of heavy weapons, much of which erupted from gun towers built into the rock spires around a small facility a few kilometres away. Hef could see the Sons of Horus in and around the channels and cliff faces that surrounded the fortification, though the elongated dusk shadows made spotting them difficult even with his auto-senses dialled up to full.