Angels of Death Anthology

by Various

  Bellasun made himself stand. He straightened his stained robes of office as best he could. The Space Marine captain turned to look at him. He was not wearing his helmet. His lined, blood-splashed face was the pale grey of old death. His eyes were a uniform, glistening, inhuman black.

  Bellasun looked away and bowed. ‘Welcome, lord…?’

  There was no answer.

  Bellasun tried to recover. ‘As Imperial Commander, permit me to welcome you to Sendennis, and to thank you for saving–’

  ‘You were bowing.’ When he spoke, the giant revealed rows of jagged, triangular teeth.

  Fear choked any response in Bellasun’s throat.

  ‘You were abasing yourself before the traitor,’ the Space Marine said.

  Bellasun sank to his knees. Despite his terror, he gazed up into that terrible face.

  The pitiless face of the true judge of Sendennis.

  ‘And you didn’t think it was worth checking the signal before starting the countdown, brother-captain?’ Haryk Thunderfang’s bass rumble was tinged with disappointment rather than anger. The Space Wolf looked around the chamber, the glow from his eye lenses reflecting off cobalt-like stone, glittering along silvery circuitry inlays that covered every surface.

  ‘The mission is more important than our survival, Haryk,’ replied Artemis, brother-captain of the Deathwatch, leader of the kill-team. ‘The necron tomb complex’s destruction is our only concern.’

  ‘I find it more problematic that we were capable of teleporting in with the cyclotronic detonator, but are now incapable of getting out. How could we be blocked from teleporting one way?’ The question came from Lavestus, seconded to the Deathwatch from the White Consuls.

  ‘I don’t think we were a threat until we teleported in,’ said Sekor. The youngest, he was often left behind to pilot the Thunderhawk gunship, but on this occasion they had teleported directly from their ship, Fatal Redress.

  ‘Another explanation is that this part of the tomb complex is shielded from teleporting, which is why we landed half a kilometre from our target coordinates. We head back to the landing point.’ Artemis strode back towards the trapezoid doorway through which they had entered, the door turned to steaming slag by a melta bomb a few minutes earlier.

  ‘Let’s get going then,’ said Haryk, hefting his plasma reaper.

  Ahead of the Space Wolf, Artemis took a step into the passageway and then stopped. A scratching sound echoed down the triangular corridor. Something glittered in the distance just as a noise like a rusty blade being pulled down a metal plate assaulted the ears of the Space Marines.

  ‘Scarabs!’ Artemis had only time to bark the warning before a tide of small, multi-limbed metal beetles, each the size of his hand, poured towards him, scuttling along floor and walls with equal ease.

  Opening fire with metal storm rounds, the kill-team blew away the first swathe of necron constructs, but more followed, their metallic mandibles clicking open and closed, compound-lensed eyes glowing green with alien energy. They advanced into the swarm, weapons spitting destruction.

  ‘We’re going to run out of time,’ said Sekor. The chrono-display had counted down below three minutes.

  ‘Attack! Cut through them!’ Artemis combined command with action, drawing his power sword to slash through a handful of constructs. He stepped into the gap he had cleaved, firing his bolt pistol to destroy more scarabs.

  Haryk joined the brother-captain and opened fire with the plasma reaper. A storm of blasts streamed along the passageway, each tiny star miniscule compared to the bolt of a normal plasma gun, but still enough to punch through the armoured carapace of a scarab with ease. The whine of energy cells recharging replaced the skittering of metal claws.

  ‘Quickly, they will return soon enough,’ said Artemis, breaking into a run along the empty corridor.

  The walls started to shine, a sickly yellow glow streaming along what Artemis had thought to be veins in the rock. By this dim light he could see mechanoid skeletons entombed within the material itself, rictus-faced skulls grinning at him from the depths.

  ‘We were wrong,’ said Sekor. ‘This pyramid complex isn’t guarding a subterranean tomb. It is the tomb!’

  ‘Even better that it will soon be nothing more than a cloud of ash and particles, Emperor be praised,’ replied Lavestus.

  They burst into the octagonal hall where they had first teleported into the tomb. It was nearly a hundred metres across and fifty high. One wall was dissolving. The blue stone slewed away to reveal shaft after shaft filled with scarabs. Awakening artificial eyes bathed the black armour of the Deathwatch warriors with a jade glow.

  Artemis tried to lock on to the teleport signal again, but his attempt was met by a dull growl from the teleport homer and a smear of nonsense across the display affixed to his right wrist. He took a moment to gauge what was happening as the others opened fire on the swarm of constructs pouring out of the wall towards them. Past the flicker of plasma charges and metal storm bolts, Artemis noticed something was amiss. The scarabs were not trying to attach themselves to the Deathwatch members. From past records, he knew that scarabs often clung to their victims and detonated themselves, destroying both. Why were they not doing the same?

  ‘Does this seem at all familiar?’ said Haryk, blasting apart half a dozen scarabs with a burst of plasma. ‘I mean, a countdown that is going to destroy us all, fighting against an alien terror waking up around us?’

  ‘Shut up, Haryk,’ said Artemis, trying to concentrate.

  He noticed that many of the constructs were not attacking, but were slipping past the Space Marines to disappear down one of the other corridors. A few were heading towards the cyclotronic device.

  ‘Keep them away from the detonator, I have a theory,’ Artemis told his companions, setting off after the errant scarabs. The small constructs ignored him as he pounded past, crushing them underfoot.

  Less than a hundred metres long, the passage opened up into another tomb chamber. The scarabs hurled themselves at a wall, blowing themselves up to shatter the azure blocks. Amongst them was something a lot larger, several times the mass of Artemis. It floated just above the ground, six bulky legs curled up beneath it, two more limbs extended towards the far wall where green energy beams sliced through the stone-like substance.

  Looking past, Artemis saw something within the structure of the tomb, taller and wider than the necron warriors they had passed earlier. Through the diminishing layers of protective cobalt, his gaze met a trio of glowing eyes. He felt a strange moment of connection to the ancient buried thing; they despised each other in equal measure.

  Checking his teleport homer, Artemis realised that the jamming signal was emanating from the spider-like construct, which was continuing to ignore him in its efforts to cut free the necron commander. He ejected his bolt pistol’s magazine and slammed in kraken penetrator rounds. Lining up his shots, he fired six times, every bolt punching into the mechanical arachnid between head and body. Sparks flew as it fell to the ground, smaller eruptions jerking its body from within.

  ‘The signal!’ crowed Sekor. ‘It’s back.’

  ‘Fatal Redress, evac teleport, now!’ barked Artemis.

  With shards of stone crashing to the floor around it, the necron lord erupted from its sarcophagus. Artemis fired his pistol. The bolt clanged from the forehead of the necron commander, leaving a bright scar in the living metal.

  ‘Stay dead this time,’ he growled. A moment later, a soul-wrenching sickness churned in his stomach and the world disappeared.

  As Artemis was deposited on the strike vessel above Norantis XIX, the tomb complex was engulfed by a sphere of plasma and nuclear fire.

  Sunset fell over the peaks, drawing its light back over the mountains as the Thunderhawks dropped onto the platforms hidden by cunningly wrought spurs of rock. They had come down fast and hard from orbit, but warily, like scavenger beasts approaching feast-prey that should be dead, but might yet have life within it.

&nbs
p; Captain Daegan straightened his cloak as vortices of turbulent air threatened to tear it from the midnight curves of his battleplate. Behind him, two squads of Sable Swords formed up as he strode down the assault ramp to the landing platform. He kept his helmet hooked at his belt, one hand resting on its freshly-forged smoothness, the other on the textured grip of the bolter he had yet to fire in anger.

  'No one here to greet us,' said Kaas, the youthful Apothecary with a disappointed grunt.

  "Would you welcome those who are to replace you?' asked Carden, Daegan's equerry and personal champion.

  'Enough,' said Daegan. This is a solemn business we are on. Do not sully it.'

  Both warriors nodded, understanding they had overstepped their bounds.

  Daegan stepped from the shadow of the Thunderhawk's fog of exhaust fumes and atmospheric venting. The platform was deserted, as he had suspected it would be, but he knew that those who called this place home were watching them even now.

  Before him, a towering portal of timber and bronze stood unbarred, like the gate of an abandoned fortress that has long since been sacked. This was no war-way, but a ceremonial entrance, a route within the mountain that reached nowhere of strategic value. Its appearance was decorative only, a means of inspiring awe in the easily impressed.

  Daegan set off towards the portal, Kaas and Carden neatly falling into position at his sides, and the squads of black-armoured warriors marching in perfect lockstep behind him. Carden bore a shield of black in one hand, emblazoned with twin crossed swords in ivory, while his other rested on ; the pommel of a dark sabre belted at his waist. Kaas bore a dipped banner with the same heraldic device, a badge of honour that was yet new and felt ancient at the same time.

  They were not the first to bear this device, but they would do it honour.

  They are here,' said Leuthar.

  'I know,' replied the vox-amped tones of Brother Thade. 'I could have killed them a dozen times as they dropped from orbit.'

  'They are brash and untested,' said Leuthar. 'Young, as you once were.'

  A bark of augmitted laughter was Thade's reply. 'I was never young.'

  'There are none of us young any more,' sighed Leuthar, settling his sword at his hip and hoping he would not have to draw it.

  'No,' agreed Leuthar. 'Death ages us all.'

  The exterior of the mountain reeked of abandonment, and the interior no less so. Beyond the portal, a chamber with its vaulted roof lost in shadows echoed to the sound of their footfalls, where it ought to ring with the clamour of warriors preparing to sally forth on war-making. Dust hung heavy on the hooded statues and only the flickering glow of trimmed lumen- flames illuminated the once grand vestibule.

  A floating skull encased in electrum hovered in the centre of the chamber, its eyes unblinking blue orbs. An oil-burning lantern hung from the skull's jaws, and it flitted away with a hum of a miniature repulsor field as they approached. Daegan and his warriors set off after the skull as it floated just ahead of them, leading them ever onwards, through cavernous hallways and empty processionals.

  The bobbing skull plunged deeper and farther into the mountain. Shadows retreated from its lantern, and the sightless eyes of the statues followed them as they descended grand stairways and triumphal avenues that no longer resounded to the battle chants of departing warriors and returning heroes.

  A thousand warriors once lived and trained here, and the void of their presence clung to the interior of the mountain like an unwelcome blight. Daegan felt the aching sense of loss that bled from every stone of the mountain.

  'Death shrouds this place,' said Kaas, echoing Daegan's thoughts. 'We should not plant our flag in so ill-favoured a place.'

  'Much honour was won by the warriors who dwelled here,' pointed out Daegan.

  Kaas shook his head. 'New beginnings should not start with death, no matter how nobly won it was.'

  Daegan wanted to disagree, but his orders were without ambiguity.

  At length, the skull brought Daegan to a grand assembly hall, its gleaming walls painted with the colours of a dozen stained glass windows illuminated by an ingenious system of reflector wells that brought light into the heart of the mountain.

  Thirty warriors armoured in silver stood ranked on a stepped rostrum at the far end of the chamber, bathed in the ruddy embers of the dying sun. A Dreadnought towered over them, a proud Chapter banner fluttering in an unseen wind that filled the chamber like a sigh of regret.

  'I am Brother Thade,' said the Dreadnought. 'Master of the Astral Knights and lord of Obsidian.'

  'Brother Captain Daegan of the Sable Swords, First Company.'

  'You come to claim stewardship of our fortress-monastery and all its chattels?'

  'I do,' said Daegan. 'As decreed by the Emperor and the High Lords of Terra.'

  The Dreadnought stepped down from the rostrum and said, 'An ignoble end to a litany of honour few can equal. This mountain has been home to the warriors of the Astral Knights for a hundred lifetimes and it has seen the Imperium's greatest heroes march to war through its gates. Tell me why I should yield such a place to you.'

  'Your numbers are too few to bear the burden of rebuilding your Chapter,' said Daegan, marching to stand before the Dreadnought. 'Your Chapter Master is dead. As are all your knights.'

  'You tell me what I already know, whelp,' snapped Thade, and Daegan felt his warriors tense. This had always been the most likely outcome, that the decimated Chapter's survivors would not accept their fate.

  'Our brothers gave their lives so that billions would be spared the horror of the World Engine, and this is our reward?' roared the Dreadnought. To be stricken from the records and our holdings given to warriors with no history, whose blades are yet unblooded?'

  Daegan shook his head. The Sable Swords may yet be young and untested, but we are not without honour and not without reverence for those who have gone before us.'

  'Just words,' said Thade, looming over Daegan, his fists thrumming with power. 'What deeds do you offer to match them?'

  The Dreadnought could crush him in the blink of an eye, but Daegan met its steely gaze and said, 'I offer you the chance to continue the proud tradition of your order. Take ship from here and ply the stars as the Astral Knights once did, before they set down roots in stone and iron. Fight on in the Emperor's name until you can fight no more.'

  The Sable Swords stepped aside, leaving a path to the chamber's exit.

  'And when that day comes,' said Daegan, 'know that in death your duty has ended.'

  David Annandale wrote the Space Marine Battles novel The Death ofAntagonis and the novella Yarrick: Chains of Golgotha. He is currently working on more tales of Commissar Yarrick.

  Author of The Gildar Rift, Accursed Eternity and Valkia the Bloody, S P Cawkwell continues to write about the Silver Skulls and the Gorequeen.

  Ben Counter is best known for the Soul Drinkers and Grey Knights series, but has recently been busy telling tales of the Imperial Fists, such as Malodrax and Seventh Retribution.

  Robin Cruddace writes rules for Warhammer and Warhammer 40,000. 'Duty's End' is his first short story.

  C Z Dunn wrote the novella Dark Vengeance and the associated audio drama The Ascension of Balthasar, along with the audio dramas Bloodspire and Malediction.

  Peter Fehervari is the author of Fire Caste and several short stories featuring characters from that novel.

  L J Goulding has written the Grey Knights audio drama Mortarionfs Heart and a number of short stories. He is working on his first novel, featuring the Scythes of the Emperor.

  Author of the Warhammer novels Headtaker and Gotrek & Felix: City of the Damned, David Guymer also wrote the Warhammer 40,000 Apocalypse short stories 'Cold Blood' and 'Cold Steel’

  Guy Haley wrote the Space Marine Battles novel Death of Integrity and the Imperial Guard novel Baneblade, as well as Skarsnik in the Warhammer range.

  Ray Harrison is a new author, having only penned the short stories 'Binding' and The Third War
' for Black Library.

  Best known for his many rulebooks, Army Books and Codexes for Games Workshop, Phil Kelly also wrote the novella Dreadfleet, along with several short stories.

  Nick Kyme is the author of the Salamanders series, Space Marine Battles: Damnos, several Warhammer 40,000 audio dramas, including Perfection and Veil of Darkness, and the Horns Heresy novel Vulkan Lives.

  Mark Latham's debut short story for Black Library, 'Kovos Falls', appeared in the digital anthology Hammer and Bolter. He is currently writing more tales of the Dark Millennium.

  George Mann's Black Library work focuses on the Raven Guard and Brazen Minotaurs and includes the novella The Unkindness of Ravens and the audio dramas Helion Rain and Labyrinth of Sorrows.

  Graham McNeill writes the long-running Ultramarines series and is a regular contributor to the Horns Heresy. His novel A Thousand Sons was a New York Times bestseller.

  Author of several short stories, including 'Witness' and 'Nightspear', Joe Parrino is finishing a PhD before jumping back into writing more Warhammer 40,000 action.

  Hailing from Australia, Anthony Reynolds is best known for the Word Bearers and Bretonnian Knights series. He has also contributed to the Horns Heresy.

  Josh Reynolds is the author of several Warhammer novels, including Gotrek & Felix: Road of Skulls and the Time of Legends: Blood of Nagash series, which began with Neferata.

  Rob Sanders wrote the Space Marine Battles novel Legion of the Damned, along with Atlas Infernal and Redemption Corps. He has also written short stories and a novella for the Horns Heresy.

  Cavan Scott is a full-time writer who has recently made his Black Library debut with the Space Marines short story 'Doom Flight' He is currently working on more tales featuring the Adeptus Astartes.