Iakodos was watching the inquisitor carefully. There was complete honesty in the man’s tone, in the stance he had adopted and in the words he was speaking, and yet he still sensed that the entire truth was being withheld. It was nothing he could explain beyond a gut instinct; he was no psyker.
‘That is all you require of us? A bodyguard detail?’
‘That is all. I do not ask for your Librarians or your Chapter champions. I ask merely for a reasonable detachment of men to ensure that I arrive alive to carry out my task.’ The inquisitor looked from Khorvash to Tanek and back again. ‘It can do neither of your respective Chapters any harm at all to grant me this boon. Tanek’s debt will be wiped out and Khorvash will earn great respect for the Blood Swords, which will go a long way to restoring a gravely tarnished reputation. These are worthy rewards in themselves, are they not?’
‘Are there not other Adeptus Astartes brothers whose skills are more suited to dealing with such situations?’
‘There are, of course. However, the more – how shall we say – the more militant wing of my order does not have a presence in the Balanor system. The Star Dragons and Blood Swords however…’ His smile would perhaps have been considered charming by some, but not by the Adeptus Astartes who saw nothing on the inquisitor’s face but slyness and the half-truth that Iakodos had noted. ‘The Accursed Eternity is a difficult problem. It comes and goes without any pattern. There is no way we can predict when it will arrive and I have to use any and all tools at my disposal when it does.’
Khorvash’s scowl had not lessened any, and he traced idle patterns on the surface of the table with one finger whilst he studied Remigius. ‘Our numbers are low already, Tanek,’ he said after a few moments of silence. ‘But if you agree to this, I would be able to spare at least one squad for such a task. Sergeant Ardashir and his men would be the perfect choice.’
‘I would not ask for more from you, my friend,’ came the reply. ‘The Star Dragons can spare two Scales at least. The Blood Swords need to retain their numbers. All the while you are unable to recruit to your number…’ He did not continue. He did not need to, and he trusted enough to their friendship that Khorvash would not take offence.
‘I will go also,’ interjected Iakodos. ‘If this daemonic entity is truly as challenging as the inquisitor suggests, then they will need reminders of their faith.’
Tanek eyed the inquisitor. ‘Thirty battle-brothers and the Chaplain. More than generous, I think you will agree. Is this acceptable?’
‘More than generous.’ Remigius dropped into a low bow that showed great deference, although all three Adeptus Astartes could not help but consider it slightly sarcastic.
‘I tell you this now, Remigius,’ Tanek said in a low and dangerous voice. ‘The first hint that you have betrayed us will lead to consequences far beyond those you believe us capable of.’
‘I speak only the truth, captain.’
Aye, Tanek thought. Only the truth you think we need to know, though.
II
It continued on its aimless course, drifting through the void of space, and made no attempt to attack or impede the boarding torpedoes in any way at all. Even when they connected with the Accursed Eternity and the grinding teeth chewed into its hull, there was no response. The ship was, to all intents and purposes, dead.
Chaplain Iakodos stepped out of the nose of the first torpedo, already wearing his distinctive skull-helm. An exquisite cloak, hand-stitched by Chapter-serfs from the skins of the reptilian draconae of the Chapter’s home world, Draconith, fluttered behind him. As thick as chainmail and gleaming iridescent in the half-light, the cloak was a valuable Chapter artefact and as much a mark of Iakodos’s office as the crozius arcanum in his hand.
Iakodos looked around at the interior of the so-called daemon-ship. Its emergency lights were at their lowest possible ebb and the sensors in his helm adjusted accordingly. Temperature sensors registered at almost freezing.
Behind the sergeants, Inquisitor Remigius stepped out of the torpedo. A tiny figure next to the assembled Space Marines, he was wearing a thick robe and cloak that he pulled around himself with a shiver. The re-breather mask covering most of his face rendered his expression impossible to gauge.
Sergeant Korydon of the Star Dragons Third Scale squad and his counterpart, Sergeant Evander of Ninth Scale, resplendent in their royal blue battle-plate, had been mustered for the expedition. A squad of crimson-clad Blood Swords who had been assembled under the command of Sergeant Ardashir joined them once the second boarding torpedo opened to let them out.
Iakodos watched as Korydon gathered the warriors together and further noted the way in which he eyed the inquisitor with caution. As the senior sergeant present, the overall command of the military detail had fallen to him and the Chaplain was well aware that he had been subjected to a private briefing from Captain Tanek before they had departed the Ladon.
The three sergeants had not yet put on their helms and their breath ghosted in front of their faces as they called their squads to order. Korydon considered Ardashir carefully. Whilst there was an undoubted kinship between the two Chapters, he had never personally fought alongside Ardashir and had no idea of the other’s capabilities. The Blood Swords warrior had initially shown some resistance to the idea of deferring command to a sergeant of the Star Dragons, but a word from Khorvash had silenced his complaints.
Like his captain Ardashir seemed eager and energetic, a trait that both Korydon and Iakodos found pleasing. He rallied his squad with ease and they responded to his softly-voiced commands without hesitation, presenting a professional, efficient and well-ordered front. The Blood Swords had a good reputation on the field of battle. In the best possible way, Korydon fervently hoped that it would not be put to the test.
His own squad, Third Scale, and Evander’s Ninth were standing ready, their bolters slowly panning left and right to cover the gloomy corridor into which they had emerged. Iakodos walked amongst the Star Dragons first, laying his hand on shoulders and speaking words of benediction and cleansing in a clear voice.
‘The Blood Swords are ready for your command, Sergeant Korydon,’ Ardashir said, and there was nothing but respect in his tone. Iakodos nodded in approval. Whatever disgruntlement Ardashir had known before departure had evidently been set aside in favour of duty.
‘Very good.’ Pulling his helm on over his close crop of fair hair, Korydon turned to Remigius. ‘Inquisitor, this is your mission. We are here to guide and support you if it is needed.’
‘Oh, it will be needed, Sergeant Korydon. It’s not a question of “if” but rather “when”. Ensure your men are prepared to handle anything that they encounter… It will not all be corporeal.’ The inquisitor’s musical voice, muffled by the mask across his face, carried through the silence of the ship. ‘Our targets are the enginarium and the bridge; the daemonic heart of this ship is most likely to be situated in one of these locations.’
‘Most likely?’ Korydon snorted. ‘That is a little vague, inquisitor.’
‘The activities of daemons do not conform to any sort of exact science, Sergeant Korydon. Guard your temper. Your impatience won’t serve you well in this situation…’
Iakodos had watched the exchange silently, his eyes unseen behind his skull mask, but at Remigius’s statement he stepped forwards, his hands raised, one palm directed at the man and another at the warrior. His face was hidden but his manner was clear.
‘Peace, Brother-Sergeant Korydon. Carry yourself with decorum.’ Korydon turned his face away from the Chaplain and Iakodos noted the tell-tale clenching of his fists. ‘Mark my words, inquisitor.’ Iakodos’s gravel tones rumbled, made inhuman by the helm he wore. ‘All of the battle-brothers here assembled attended me in the chapel before we were despatched. Their faith is as strong as it ever was and as their guide in all matters of a spiritual nature, I see no reason to doubt them.’ He turned to the others. ‘Trust in the words and the litanies we shared before we left, brothers. Trust in t
he Emperor and trust in the warrior beside you, and we will end this threat to the Imperium forever.’
Several of the warriors made the sign of the aquila at Iakodos’s words. Korydon shrugged slightly, then shouldered his bolter and turned to Remigius. His expressionless helmet lenses fixed on the inquisitor giving away nothing of his thoughts or feelings. His voice, when he spoke, was composed and neutral.
‘Lead on, inquisitor,’ he said. ‘We have your back.’
It became swiftly apparent to all of the Space Marines and their human charge that the Accursed Eternity was devoid of any signs of life. There was no indication of any sort of battle that had ended lives. No bloodstains, no tell-tale scorch marks that would suggest gunfire. There was simply nothing.
‘It is as though the ship just came from the shipyards,’ observed Evander across the vox. ‘It is… pristine. Untouched.’ His words were accurate. There was a shining newness about the walls of the corridors through which they walked. The clean, desolate halls of the ship made it seem slightly unreal; something about it didn’t feel right. Not one of them could fully explain what they meant but the feeling, it seemed, was universal.
Evander received no reply, but one or two of the warriors nodded agreement, Evander having merely put into words what they were all feeling. After some time, Brother Mehrak offered up a further and decidedly hesitant opinion, his words carefully chosen and tinged with doubt.
‘If someone wanted to recreate the interior of an Imperial ship but did not quite know how to apply the wear and tear of age and use, it would look just like this.’ He laughed without humour. ‘My apologies, brothers. That is fanciful and ridiculous to even consider.’
‘There is nothing to apologise for, Blood Sword. You are merely expressing your thoughts on the matter. Do not feel that you cannot do that. Do not hesitate to externalise your feelings in this place, brother,’ said Iakodos without turning to look at the warrior. ‘The inquisitor has suggested that this is a ship that has been taken by daemonic powers. None of us here can truly comprehend what they may or may not be capable of. Better by far to say what your concerns are than to brood upon them.’
‘It feels and looks real enough. Although given its nature, it is hard to believe that is anything but an illusion. Something woven from warp-stuff. A fragment of the immaterium.’ Evander gave a light chuckle. ‘Fanciful, I know.’
‘Be reassured, sergeant. The Accursed Eternity most definitely exists.’ Remigius’s voice cut across the vox conversations. ‘Its machine spirit has been broken and compromised, but it exists nonetheless. It is solid and very real. The fact that it continues to exist despite the best efforts of the Imperium is why we are here.’
They continued down the corridor in silence, the only sounds those of the booted feet of the Space Marines ringing out on the decking, the constant hum of their energy packs and the occasional creaking of a joint of power armour. Iakodos moved down the corridor at the back of the assembled squads, his cloak billowing as he walked. He too felt the discomfort that the nature of the ship was instilling in the others.
‘He does not know where he is leading us.’ The Chaplain glanced sharply at Korydon who had seemingly switched to a private vox-channel. ‘I am no psyker, but I sense that our charge is more than a little anxious.’
‘Patience, brother. I appreciate your own need for haste, but we need to let this situation play out however it will.’
‘He does not know where we will find our enemy, Chaplain. How can we believe in his claim that he knows how to deal with it?’
Iakodos was robbed of his chance to reply as, without warning, Remigius came to an abrupt halt at a junction in the corridor. It was only because Korydon had ensured a respectful distance that the inquisitor wasn’t trampled by three squads of Adeptus Astartes.
‘Here is where we make a choice,’ the inquisitor said, looking first one way and then another down the corridors that intersected their current path. ‘The enginarium or the bridge.’
‘There. You see what I mean? I rest my case.’ Korydon’s frustration was wearing and decidedly uncharacteristic. Iakodos scowled beneath the skull-helm and spoke aloud.
‘How certain are you that we will find what we seek in either of these places, inquisitor?’
‘As certain as I can be, Chaplain.’
Despite the inquisitor’s confidence, Iakodos recognised tell-tale signs of uncertainty: a slight tremor to the voice, a brief clasping of the hands.
‘Perhaps…’ For the first time, there was genuine hesitation in Remigius’s manner. ‘Perhaps we could consider splitting our efforts?’
‘It is not an ideal solution, inquisitor, and given what you have told us about this ship I cannot say that I approve of the idea of isolating a squad from the others.’
‘It would certainly speed this process up, Chaplain.’ Korydon stepped forwards. ‘We can stay in constant communication and, if necessary, the squads can join back up.’
‘The final say is yours, sergeant. You have command of this mission.’ Iakodos stepped back again. Despite his seniority in years, he deferred easily to the sergeant’s command.
Korydon raised a gauntleted hand and rubbed it against the jaw of his helm. His red lenses stared down the corridor ahead, first to the left and then the right. The same featureless white expanse met his gaze wherever he looked. He came to a decision.
‘Third Scale, we will head for the bridge and make an assessment of the area. Evander, you take Ninth and Sergeant Ardashir. Stay with the inquisitor.’ There was a heavy emphasis on the final command and Evander nodded his compliance.
‘We will move towards the command deck,’ Korydon confirmed, his tone forceful and compelling. ‘We will remain in constant contact and in the event that we run into difficulties, or if you require our extra support, we will fall back to this position and reunite our forces.’
Third Scale moved apart from the others and gathered at the head of the right-hand corridor. Iakodos switched to the private channel again.
‘This is a rash decision, sergeant, and one that seems ill-advised in this environment. I will come with you.’
‘It is my decision to make, Chaplain. And no, you must remain with the inquisitor. I apologise for speaking so of one of the Ordo Malleus, but I do not trust him. You need to be with him. Those were Captain Tanek’s express orders. He did not require the rest of us to be present, however.’
Iakodos clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. ‘Very well, sergeant. As you command. Keep your faith strong, Brother Korydon. Keep your wits about you and heed your own warnings about falling back if you encounter difficulties.’
‘I will, Chaplain. Fire and fury.’
‘Fire and fury, brother.’
The two Space Marines clasped arms in a warrior’s grip and, without another word, Third Scale peeled off from the main group and turned right down the corridor junction. Iakodos had no doubt that they were strong, faithful souls to a man and that they would cope with anything that might be thrown at them, but he still felt a creeping unease at their forces having been split.
‘Sergeant Evander… We are now under your command, I believe.’
‘Yes, Chaplain.’ Evander nodded and moved ahead of the inquisitor, leading the larger of the two battle forces left towards the enginarium.
As they walked, the corridor began to take a slight slope downwards. Iakodos considered again Evander’s words from earlier. There was something fundamentally unreal about the design of the ship’s interior. There should have been more bulkheads, more doors barring their passage, but there was nothing but the seemingly endless white corridors. The Chaplain laid his hand against the wall and could not even feel a distant vibration from the ship’s engines. The sensors in his gauntlet returned no movement, and as he passed his hand across the wall it seemed smooth and almost frictionless. No casting or welding lumps or rivets, just a stark, sterile surface.
‘This vessel is dead,’ he observed. ‘I have never be
en aboard a ship that is so utterly devoid of life and soul.’
He would learn, to his great cost, that the Accursed Eternity was anything but dead.
Korydon strode ahead with great purpose. He had felt the unease of his battle-brothers from the moment they had exited the boarding torpedo. It was an unease he shared and the urge to complete this duty and return to the Ladon was strong. He had disliked the inquisitor from the moment they had met and felt a certain sense of relief now that he was out of the man’s presence. Since they had boarded, a niggling voice at the back of his skull had tried to convince him that were they to lose the inquisitor, it would be no tragedy.
‘What exactly is it that we are seeking, sergeant?’ Arion asked. This corridor, like the embarkation one along which they had previously been walking, was spartan and empty.
‘Anything at all would be a start,’ muttered Tylissus. This drew a hesitant chuckle from Third Scale and even Korydon cracked a brief smile beneath his helm.
‘Have you ever known anything like this place?’ Tylissus continued, the bemusement in his voice expressing what Korydon suspected all of them felt. ‘When we were told this was a daemon-ship, I expected some sort of engagement the moment we set foot on the deck. Not this endless nothing. Is it possible, do you think, that the inquisitor is wrong in his assessment?’
‘I do not know, Tylissus,’ replied Korydon thoughtfully. ‘It is more than evident that this ship is not normal. But like you, I wonder exactly what it is we should expect. I feel this sense of…’ He trailed off, unable to articulate the feelings he had. It was almost like a premonition of what was to come, but that was impossible. He was a warrior. He did not have precognitive powers. ‘A sense of discomfort.’ It was a pitiful word compared to the depth of feeling he described, but it was the best he could manage. ‘If the inquisitor asserts that this is a daemon-ship then who am I to question that?’
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