by Guy Haley
‘Siege camps.’ Again, Dorn paused. ‘Eight siege camps ring the city, all established behind defence screens. Overhead voids, layered power shields, ion shielding, while their smaller constructs go about protected by atomantic sheaths. Using the camps as a base, the Dark Mechanicum has begun work on a line of contravallation to encircle the entire Eternity Wall. They are under constant bombardment from the Palace, but this will only slow rather than stop them. The shielding prevents our direct targeting of their siege equipment until it is ready, and moving against the walls.
‘Enemy troop strength. We have downed thousands of their landing craft. Nevertheless, several million troops of varying quality are now encamped outside the walls. However, these forces are of little concern. Other landing zones, out of range of the Palace guns, have been set up further back in the Himalazian massif. These landing sites are by necessity far from us, but we can be sure that reinforcements are marching from them already. What intelligence we can gather shows higher quality troops moving from these sites on other Terran cities.
‘Space ports. Horus has secured a number of landing fields across Terra. Near the Palace, Damocles space port is under constant attack. For now it holds, but it will fall. As it lies outside the aegis, most of the structures in the Damocles zone have been destroyed, including the Black Ministry. Our warriors have done what they can to compromise Damocles port’s usefulness, but even damaged it will offer the Warmaster a safe landing zone for Titan Legios and other heavy formations close to our main defences.
‘Aerial theatres,’ he continued relentlessly. ‘We have no control of the void. Our fighter forces dwindle with every sortie from the Warmaster’s fleet.
‘Aegis strength. The aegis holds at close to one hundred per cent strength over the central districts and the Sanctum Imperialis, but on the periphery we have less than forty per cent efficacy. This is falling daily. Before long, the outer walls will be open to attack from above, and when that occurs they will be breached.’
‘The shields will hold,’ said Kane.
Dorn looked at the Fabricator General. ‘We face five primarchs. One among them has uncovered and is exploiting weaknesses in the aegis network. My guess would be Perturabo.’
‘Or Kelbor-Hal,’ said Kane.
‘Perturabo was made for tasks such as this,’ said Dorn, staring at the Fabricator General with certainty. ‘The bombardment patterns bear his mark as surely as if he had fashioned them in steel and struck them with his die. The aegis will fail under his attack. The walls will then begin to take bombardment damage. This will happen soon.
‘Palace outworks.’ Dorn returned his gaze from Kane to the hololith, dismissing the Fabricator General’s quibbles. ‘The outworks are close to collapse. Greater than one half of the conscripts and other formations committed to their defence are dead. I will shortly give the order to abandon the third line, and fall back to the second.’
‘The bastions still hold,’ said Adreen.
‘While they do, we can keep the enemy away from the Palace defences. I anticipate the next major attack will come soon in an effort to clear the outwork towers from the field,’ said Dorn. ‘This may be accompanied by the first serious attempt on the Eternity Wall. If it does not come then, it will come soon after.’
‘This is a ritual,’ said Constantin Valdor. He was almost as commanding as the primarchs, but being better known to the Twelve, they were not as afraid of him. While the Emperor’s sons spoke, he kept his own counsel, and that was something Dorn encouraged. In earlier days, when the primarchs waged the Emperor’s war among the stars, Valdor’s voice had great influence on the Senatorum. His silence spoke volumes on the primarchs’ authority now that they ruled in their father’s stead.
Valdor stepped next to Dorn to point at the hololith. ‘Eight camps at varying distance from the Palace. Draw a line from each, and the lines intersect over the Sanctum Imperialis. These desperate attacks by low quality troops against the outworks are not serious attempts. They are sacrifices.’
‘Not long ago, we might have overlooked the possibility,’ said Dorn, ‘but the captain-general has it right. Though the Warmaster erodes our outer perimeters, the strategy is suboptimal.’ He pointed at two siege camps, one directly north of the Sanctum, the other to the south-west. ‘For example, the walls here and here are weakened, yet the enemy establishes his camps kilometres out from those points. It is unmistakably a ritual arrangement.’
‘My lords,’ said Valdor, ‘Horus is taking our choices from us. If we do not attack, we allow them to build their siege works unhindered. If we attack, we add to whatever blood magic they are planning.’
‘But are they truly involved in ritual? How can we know?’ said Marison disbelievingly. ‘Not one of us here is a sorcerer.’
‘I know it is hard to believe,’ said Malcador gently, ‘but by these means, the traitors will bring their creatures against us. The forces we see now are only a fraction of what we will eventually face.’
‘For the time being, there are other problems to occupy us,’ said Dorn. ‘Until three days ago, we were at least being spared the attentions of the Traitor Legions. The Death Guard have put down all over the globe. Their preference for biological and chemical warfare remains as it always was, and the efficacy of these weapons appears accentuated by their recent change. I have notification of plague from every corner of Terra.’
‘What has happened to them? What are these reports of mutants and other abominations in the ranks of the Traitor Legions?’ Ossian inquired.
‘A number of the Legions have given themselves over completely to the so-called gods of the Pantheon,’ said Dorn. ‘The first we heard of these creatures were unstable members of the Word Bearers. We now know these warriors were Space Marines whose bodies were inhabited by warp entities.’
‘Them again,’ said Pentasian. He took a hefty gulp of wine. In the old days, he had only ever drunk water.
‘This practice has spread to other Legions, notably the Sons of Horus,’ said Dorn. ‘Other malformities among the enemy ranks are caused by exposure to the warp, both intentional and incidental, and deliberate mutilation.’
‘We’ve heard all this, but reports about the Death Guard are particularly disturbing,’ Ossian said. ‘Lord Khan’s images and pict-capture from the walls show…’ He peered at a data-slate in front of him. ‘I don’t know what they show. Diseased warriors. Fouled weapons. How can they fight?’
‘The answer lies in the warp,’ said Dorn.
‘I saw them first-hand, as did Sanguinius,’ said the Khan. ‘They are diseased, as you say, but somehow this makes them more durable.’
‘Have we any samples to investigate, corpses, remains?’ asked Demidov. ‘Perhaps Tharcher’s hospitallers might be of help?’
The Khan shook his head. ’Do not ask for such things to be brought into the city. My Apothecaries wished to examine the dead. I was unwilling to take that risk. Any examples close to the walls I ordered burned. They managed to infect me with something,’ he said, and his disbelief was clear to all. ‘The Emperor made us proof against all disease. I have never been ill in my life, until this week. We cannot risk sickness of that potency getting into the general populace.’
Tharcher nodded. He was a precise and reserved man, his ageing face pocked with blister-scars. On initial impressions, he looked nervous but the scope of his intellect was apparent too from his quick movements, and his large eyes held reservoirs of compassion.
‘That is for the best,’ Tharcher said. ‘Even so, the Palace has not been spared. Disease runs rampant through the outer districts already, thanks to Mortarion. It is getting worse.’
‘Although on first examination the Death Guard attack on our outworks appears wasteful of men, their objective was to get close enough to the city to bypass the aegis with their artillery,’ said Dorn. ‘Short bombardments from near range covered by their infantry engaging with our outwork forces, followed by immediate withdrawal. Their aim was to introduce d
isease vectors into the civilian population.’
‘Of what sort?’ asked Ossian.
‘Diseased corpses, living tissue riddled with bacteria, infected human waste matter, viral agents in suspension that aerosolised on detonation of the munitions,’ said General Adreen. ‘They were inventive.’
‘They succeeded,’ said Tharcher. ‘Our medicae facilities are already overrun. Thousands are sickening. People are dying, and I expect many more deaths soon. Most of these diseases, though severe, are treatable under normal circumstances, but our staff are overstretched and we have insufficient medical stockpiles. Malnutrition is exacerbating the problem.’ He looked to his fellows. ‘Our populace is weak. I have taken the step of quarantining the areas within the walls that have been affected, but in a place such as this, with so many crammed into so small a space, no quarantine can be watertight. I cannot guarantee the core districts will escape disease. For the moment, the enforcers and the militia raised to assist them are shooting quarantine-breakers on sight. Unrest is increasing. The sickness will get through.’
‘The people are frightened. Martial law has increased the incidence of rioting,’ said Harr Rantal, Grand Provost Marshal of the Adeptus Arbites. ‘My men are stretched thin. Only an hour ago, there was a concerted effort to break out of the fiduciary subzone of sector twelve. Five hundred and seventy civilians dead, twenty enforcers killed or seriously injured, one arbitrator dead. These events are occurring so frequently they’re in danger of becoming statistics.’
‘Civil unrest and disease must both be brought under control,’ said Dorn. ‘By any means. This picture we provide for you is a grim one, but we have gathered you together again because it is going to worsen. The enemy will begin attacking in earnest. Once that begins, Horus will attempt to break through the Eternity Wall until he is successful. We will hold it as long as we are able, but we shall be forced to fall back to the inner defences.’ Dorn gave them a grave look. ‘Listen to me as I say again this will happen. The civilians have to be moved before then, or they will perish.’
‘What do you wish us to do?’ said Pentasian wearily. ‘If we bring them further in, they will carry their diseases to as yet clean districts. We’ve had this problem before. Do you remember? Our final Council meeting?’ He looked at the other lords, who nodded and muttered their agreement. ‘We struggled to screen them then. We cannot screen them now,’ said Pentasian. ‘They once numbered in the thousands. Now there are millions of refugees within the outer city. We have nowhere left to put them. They can’t all live in here.’ He gestured around the hall.
‘Millions of people, Lord Dorn,’ said Ossian. ‘Leaving aside the time it will take to vet them all, and the men we do not have to do it, we will then have further overcrowding. Every quarter of the city is full of refugees. There is not enough space. Tension will increase. It is bound to.’
‘I trust to you to see it done,’ said Dorn. ‘You have no choice. The other alternatives are to leave the civilians to their fate, or to actively cull them. I assume none of you wish to give either order.’
The High Lords looked uncomfortably at one another.
‘Yes, well.’ Pentasian said. ‘We shall see what transpires.’ He cleared his throat and massaged the bridge of his nose, then poured himself some more wine. ‘That leaves the question of the rest of Terra.’
‘With the bulk of the Legions at the Palace, the enemy is having an easier time of it elsewhere,’ said Sanguinius. ‘Over the last three days, since the Death Guard began their landing, we have received reports of four major population centres falling to the Warmaster, including Lundun, Noy Zaylant Hive, Neork and Brasyla. Millions are dying. The diseases outside the Palace are already killing. They are far more virulent than the ones we see here.’
‘The Emperor shields us from such witchcraft,’ said the Khan. ‘I experienced the effect myself. As soon as I passed within the walls, the sickness left me, and the knife used to infect me disintegrated.’
‘The Emperor protects,’ Ossian said clearly, then hurriedly added as Lord Dorn gave him a sharp look, ‘so they say.’
‘You will still not commit your forces to actions outside the walls?’ said Pentasian.
‘We must stand firm,’ said Dorn.
‘Your firmness is commendable, but will ensure no Terra is left!’ said Ossian.
‘There will be no Terra if there is no Emperor,’ said Dorn.
The Khan gave Dorn a sidelong glance. They disagreed on this matter.
‘Guilliman will come. If he is delayed, then we must guarantee the Palace and the Emperor until he does,’ said Dorn. ‘The Legions cannot leave the Palace without jeopardising the Emperor. If the Emperor dies, we have lost, and so the Legions do not leave.’
‘My lords,’ said Adreen, ‘let us not bicker. The primarchs favour us to give us this news. They do not have to. We have no authority over them, and the Praetorian is right. We cannot weaken the Palace defences, even if it costs billions of lives.’
‘It will cost billions of lives,’ said Pentasian.
‘Then what are we to do?’ said Ossian.
‘We fight! The Imperial Army fights on,’ said Adreen. ‘We have plentiful support from Lord Kane’s armies. The enemy’s strength is concentrated here, at the Palace. While that remains the case, my armies shall do what they can elsewhere. It is appalling, I agree, but the legionaries and Custodians are needed here. We must resist as best we can.’
‘That is all any of us can do,’ said Dorn. ‘Resist. We tell you these things that you might prepare, and save as many of our people as you can. That is your role in this, while we wage war on behalf of the Emperor. See to the civilians. Free us from this task, and I swear on my honour, it shall be enough. We will not allow the Imperium to fall.’
‘What were you thinking?’ said Dorn to his brothers, though primarily he addressed the Khan.
The Khan kept his silence. The three primarchs were in an unfinished side chamber off the Senatorum Imperialis. The building had been under construction for centuries, and still the outer chambers were yet to be completed. The one they occupied had bare rockcrete walls and was lit dimly by a single lumenglobe. It was freezing and damp; nevertheless there were bedrolls and other signs of civilian occupation all around the walls. ‘Why were you on the same section of the wall?’ Dorn demanded.
Again, the Khan said nothing, but stared at his brother with calm eyes.
‘Providence,’ said Sanguinius.
‘You could both have been killed,’ said Dorn.
The Khan chose to speak then. ‘We all die eventually, brother. There is nothing more true than that. Even for us.’
Dorn clenched his fists. ‘Why will you not obey my orders? Why will you not put the safety of our father above your own impulses?’
‘We are different, you and I,’ said the Khan. ‘In the eyes of the actor, the action is justifiable. We know what the Dark Mechanicum are building. We would not if I remained here. Intelligence in war is the mightiest weapon.’
‘I had already accurately deduced what was there,’ said Dorn irritably.
‘Then I have removed uncertainty from your calculations.’ The Khan gave his brother a wide smile. ‘I thought you would appreciate that.’
Dorn placed his fists upon a workbench. The bench was a crude thing, plasteel sheets bolted to scaffold-pole legs. The surface was neatly arrayed with tools. He stared at them in silence. They were covered with the dust of neglect, and left perfect outlines where curious refugees had moved them.
‘No more risks,’ he said. ‘Either of you. Can you imagine the blow to morale alone if one of you died?’
‘I am sorry, my brother, but I am going to disappoint you again,’ said the Khan.
Dorn turned round so quickly the tools rocked.
‘Do not take your Legion away,’ said Dorn. ‘I forbid it.’
The Khan held his eye. ‘You heard the High Lords. The people of Terra are dying. You are sacrificing the population of this wo
rld,’ he said. ‘It is pragmatism, I know. You present a cold face to the world, brother, but your heart does not match it. You know this is not right. If we cannot protect the men and women of mankind’s cradle, how can we claim the best interests of humanity are at the centre of what we do?’
‘You have known of my strategy since you returned to the Throneworld, brother,’ said Dorn. The shocking white of his hair accentuated the paleness of his face. In the dimly lit room, it seemed age had finally got its talons into him. ‘Your objections are noted, but at this late stage, meaningless.’
‘You shackle me to the Palace with too short a chain,’ said the Khan. ‘We fought the Great Crusade to free humanity, not to sacrifice it.’
Dorn nodded once, though not in agreement. He rested his hand on his sword hilt.
‘Jaghatai, I understand. I feel your anguish that mortal men and women suffer to ensure our father survives. But war is a calculation, this one more than all the others. Life cannot be measured in absolute terms any longer. Every death must be set against one consequence alone – how much time it can buy us. Time is the currency of this battle. We must hoard seconds like misers. Lives we have in abundance. They can and must be spent freely, regrettable as that is.’
Neither of the others spoke.
‘Do not be hasty, brother,’ said Dorn, more gently. ‘Horus continues his bombardment of the surface. He is still testing us, still probing the defences of the world. He is saving his best troops. He knows we cannot spare our own legionaries anywhere but here. The creatures assailing the hives of Terra are scum, dregs, opportunists and fanatics. While here our outwork forces arrayed against them are more than enough to keep them back. These attacks of the Death Guard are intended to draw us out. Their presence shows our strategy is working. Leave, and you shall be playing into Horus’ hands.’