Part 6 (2/2)

As his mind cleared, he heard voices. They spoke in a tongue that he could not understand and only partly through vocalised words. Many of the tones and nuances seemed to seep through waves of psychic resonance, as though words were spoken simultaneously through oral and psychic projections. In a moment of clarity, Ashok realised that the language of these eldar made no distinction between audio and psychic noise a both were natural parts of the tongue.

Judging from the sounds, Ashok thought that there were probably three aliens in the chamber on the other side of the terminal behind which he was hidden. He found it remarkable that they had not noticed a two-metre tall, heavily armoured s.p.a.ce Marine barrelling through the air and cras.h.i.+ng into the wall less than ten metres from where they were standing.

Ashok s.h.i.+fted his weight slightly, turning into a crouch and repositioning his force staff, poising himself. As soon as he moved, the eldar voices stopped. They had heard him. Just the tiniest of moves and they had heard him. He froze, fighting against his natural urge to vault the terminal with his staff blazing and lay waste to the filthy aliens on the other side. His task required some subtlety and some tact. Besides which, he was still not sure how many creatures there were in the chamber. Stupidity is the flipside of courage.

How could they have heard such a tiny movement but have missed his entrance? Ashokas mind scanned back through the last couple of minutes and a sinking feeling settled over him. How long had it been since head crashed into that chamber? It was a blur. He could remember stars and whispered voices, but he had no sense of time. Had he lost consciousness? What had happened to him after he vaulted into that portal? d.a.m.n, he hated alien technology.

The only explanation was that when he had crashed through into the chamber, the eldar had not been there. When they had arrived, he must have been unconscious, hidden behind the terminal where he crouched now. Ashok cursed himself for being so stupid; how could he have thrown himself through an alien transport system in the heart of an eldar craftworld and placed himself at the mercy of xenos technology? He was beyond lucky not to have been caught and killed as he emerged from the portal. No, he stopped his self-reproach in mid-flow: it was not luck a it was the grace of the Emperor himself. He may be in the heart of Ulthwe, skirting the fringes of the Eye of Terror itself, but the Emperoras gaze could not be bounded.

aFor the Emperor and Sanguinius! Death! Death comes for you!a yelled Ashok, his voice thundering the battle cry of the Angels Sanguine Death Company as he abandoned his pretence at stealth and rose to his feet. His heavy psychic hood sparked with power and his eyes flared red as he spun his staff over his head and unleashed a sheet of blue fire. The aliens would regret any attempts to mess with his head.

Through the blur of his righteous rage, Ashok saw two stunned eldar seers turn to face him. They had been tending to some instruments built into the side of a polished, gla.s.s hemisphere that protruded from the wall. Ashok recognised it at once, even through the red haze that had descended across his vision. It was one of the access points to Ulthweas infinity circuit a the spirit pool of the entire craftworld. Despite his fury, a smile cracked over Ashokas face as the scythe of blue energy sliced into the two seers, lifting them off their feet and sending them cras.h.i.+ng to the ground.

The tall, slim door at the end of the great hallway simply dissolved. An uneven crack appeared in the middle of it and then it just melted away, leaving an elegantly curving arch and a view of the council chamber beyond.

Come.

The warlockas thoughts were blunt and direct, but Octavius was now certain that they contained little malice. He nodded and strode under the archway after the warlock and the s.h.i.+ning white female, the rest of his kill-team close behind. Something at the back of his mind made him wonder what Ashok was doing at that moment.

The council chamber was a ma.s.sive translucent dome, and Octavius thought that he could see the hazy glow of the Eye of Terror itself through the almost transparent ceiling. They must have been right up at the very summit of Ulthwe. The s.p.a.ce within the huge dome was virtually featureless a there was no ornamentation or decoration but, just like the hallway outside, it managed to emanate a breathtaking beauty. Once again, Octavius wondered whether it was some kind of enchantment, or whether the aesthetic itself was merely enchanting.

Standing in the very centre of the chamber was a group of eldar in long, flowing robes of various colours and styles. Octavius recognised a couple of them from the committee that had welcomed the Deathwatch in Calmainocas dock. The emerald seer appeared to be the leader of the group, and she stepped forward of the others as Octavius approached.

Bow, insisted the warlockas mind as he and the pristine white female dropped to one knee before the seer, touching their fists to the ground. Bow now.

The Deathwatch captain watched the show of deference without embarra.s.sment. He did not bow; he would bow to no alien.

aGreetings, captain.a The sound was unnatural and forced. Octavius could see the strain stretched over the seeras otherwise beautiful face. He simply nodded in response.

aWe have remiss been in dealings our with you,a continued the green witch, her head tilted slightly to one side as though she was trying to work out whether he could understand her.

aYes,a replied Octavius bluntly. aYou have.a aWe apologise should.a Was that an apology or an observation of etiquette? Octavius couldnat tell, and he realised that the eldar witchas scrambled grasp of this spoken language was an a.s.set for her as well as a hindrance.

aYes, you should,a pressed Octavius, determined not to let the ambiguity stand.

aI am Thaeaakzi, the Emerald Seer,a she said.

Was she ignoring his slight, or did she not realise that he was demanding something more from her?

Octavius waited for her to continue, but she did not. aI am Quirion Octavius, humble servant of the Emperor of Mankind, battle-brother of the Imperial Fists, and captain in the service of the Deathwatch of the sacred Ordo Xenos.a His voice was even and calm, but his eyes narrowed as he tried to a.s.sess the impact of his words on the eldar witch before him.

aVery impressive.a Was she mocking him? aAlready you have met Dhrykna of the s.h.i.+ning Path,a she continued, indicating the s.h.i.+mmering white form of the female warrior who remained on one knee before the council. aAnd already you have met Shariele, Warlock of the Undercouncil.a These were statements, not questions, and neither of the eldar mentioned showed any signs of acknowledgement. aThey will you a.s.sist.a aa.s.sist?a queried Octavius, wondering whether the aliens would ever explain themselves. aa.s.sist in what?a aYour function, human.a The voice came from one of the other seers a an older male with hate pouring out of his eyes.

aFunction!a snarled Pelias from Octaviusa shoulder, his resentment simmering at the edge of boiling point.

aForgive you will Ruhklo of the Karizhariat,a said Thaeaakzi smoothly, as though her words were a kind of balm. Again, it was a statement rather than a request. aHe pleased is not you are here.a aHe is not alone is those sentiments,a said Octavius, not feeling obliged to hide his teamas discomfort about the present mission.

Thaeaakzi nodded and smiled condescendingly, as though she understood. aWe you summoned here because have we concern at your performance in Khalandhrielas Hall.a Octavius thought about this for a moment. aWhat?a he asked, incredulous. For a moment he had thought that the witch was finally going to tell them why the Ulthwe had activated the Coven of Isha. Instead, it seemed that she merely wanted to criticise him teamas performance in the last battle.

aFailed you to protect our seers. Missing are two of them from the upper levels.a Thaeaakzias tone was serious now, and heavy with criticism.

aSeers?a asked Octavius, replaying the events of the battle over in his mind.

aYes. Guarding they were an access point to the infinity circuit in the upper levels. Bhurolyn of the Sacred Star, old and wizened, one of the council is gone.a aWe were not in the upper levels,a stated Octavius flatly, his pride riled at the criticism of the alien witch.

aExactly. Fight in Khalandhrielas Hall diversion was clearly. You this should have realised at once. The darklings are cunning.a And the mon-keigh are stupid.

aWe were in that cursed hall because your war-witch told us to be thereaa began Pelias, his anger rising, but Octavius cut him off.

aPerhaps we would perform better if you could inform us about our a'functiona here, Thaeaakzi, Emerald Seer.a There was a moment of silence, in which another of the seers stepped forward. She was younger than the others and emanated an exquisite, fragile beauty from within the flowing, translucent white of her long robes.

aCaptain,a she nodded a brief if respectful bow. aI am Eldressyn of Ulthroon, and your purpose here has grown out of my thoughtsaa Something unheard cut her off.

aWe are concerned very about the seers, captain, especially Bhurolyn,a explained Thaeaakzi. aYour failure dangerous very is. If the darklings sacrifice were to those souls, then Great Enemy will grow strong. Powerful are those souls. Different from those before taken.a aHow is this our problem?a spat Pelias. aWe fought where and when we were told.a Octavius ignored the veteran sergeant. aIf their loss is really our fault, then we will recover them for you.a He nodded a crisp bow of affirmation. This was a complicated position for the Deathwatch captain, and he could see it even if the Black Consul sergeant could not. In the back of his mind, Octavius realised that this was why the Imperial Fists rather than the Ultramarines were the backbone of Adeptus Astartes diplomacy. The Deathwatch team was there to fulfil an Imperial oath to serve Ulthwe at a moment of its greatest need. It was not his place to access that need a although he could see little evidence of it. Rather, it was his role to ensure the honour of the Deathwatch and the keepers of the Coven of Isha.

He could give the eldar no excuse to accuse his team of failure or dishonour. Although he did not believe that the loss of the seers was his fault, it was enough that the eldar felt able to blame him for it. Communication between them was not perfect. Perhaps he should have been able to work out what was expected of him? Had he been defending the fortress of Phalanx, he would have ensured the security of every level and every man. Perhaps the eldar expected no less of him on Ulthwe. Why could they not simply tell him what they needed from him? Not for the first time, he wondered where Ashok was a the librarian would be of use at a time like this.

CHAPTER SEVEN: RAVELLING.

There was an air of heavy discontent settling in the armoury of the Lance of Darkness. The Deathwatch Marines were checking their weapons and administering to their machine-spirits, muttering silent words of prayer and litanies of purification. But their minds were elsewhere, and the tension in the relative confines of the super-armoured s.p.a.ce was explosive.

The team had returned to their frigate directly from the Seer Chamber, sweeping through the labyrinthine corridors of Ulthwe on a.s.sault bikes and a land speeder. Relative to the overall size of the craftworld, the Seer Chamber was actually quite close to Calmainocas Dock, so they had taken the long way round, deciding not to entrust their ancient armour or their sacred gene-seed to the alien portal network unless strictly necessary. They had some time, so they were cruising the vast, wide, smooth corridors and boulevards of Ulthwe. The sheer scale of the craftworld was incredible. Besides, Octavius had wanted to ride. He had needed some time to clear his head and to ensure that his resolve was well-placed.

Duty was usually a simple thing, but since arriving on Ulthwe he had realised that even the most prized values of the Adeptus Astartes could be riddled and twisted by the cunning of the eldar. Just being on the craftworld made him suspicious of everyone and of himself. Why had he accepted responsibility for the loss of the two seers in the upper reaches of the craftworld, despite the fact that he had not been asked to guard them? Pressing at the back of his mind all the time was another, perhaps even darker, question: where was Librarian Ashok? Despite his deep-seated respect for the enigmatic and wild Angel Sanguine, Octavius found himself wis.h.i.+ng that he was a casualty a that, at least, would simplify the situation.

aCaptain,a said Pelias at last, breaking the silence and dropping his bolter down onto the metal workbench in front of him. The pristine weapon glinted as it caught the light. aI must ask why you humbled us before the aliens.a Without his helmet, it was clear that Pelias was probably the oldest Marine in the room. Perhaps Sulphus was older, but it was hard to tell in amongst all of the mechanical augmetics and metal plates. The Black Consulas gnarled face was creased and scarred, and his bright eyes were sunk deeply into their sockets. He wore years of hards.h.i.+p and strength across his features, but there was a hint of weariness about him, as though the relentless pain had scarred his soul as well as his body.

Octavius placed his own bolter down onto a bench and looked over at his old comrade. He had known Pelias, on and off, for several decades. They had fought together before in the service of the Deathwatch. The captain had been in command of the failed incursion against the Biel-Tan during which Pelias had been captured. Although they had fought shoulder to shoulder since then, the Black Consul had never mentioned the incident again. There had never been a single word of reproach and never even a note of bitterness. The sergeantas loyalty was unimpeachable, and Octavius never ceased to admire the resilience and power of his will. Had any of the other Marines in the Deathwatch team challenged him in this way, Octavius would not have stood for it. He knew that Pelias felt his actions most acutely, and he knew that he owed his sergeant an explanation.

aI did not humble us, Pelias.a aYou accepted the blame for their mistakes. It is a dishonour.a aNo, Pelias. It is a dishonour to accuse another when you know that they are innocent. The eldar dishonoured themselves. We have been sent to aid the aliens, and it would not become us to attempt to evade our duties by arguing about blame. If the aliens want us to recover their seers, then we will see it done,a explained Octavius calmly.

aThey might simply have asked,a murmured Luthar, arather than attempting to manoeuvre us into a position in which we had no choice. Honour is better served through our will than through obedience to theirs.a aHonour is best serviced through duty, chaplain, not through will. Duty before all else,a said Octavius, turning his sparkling eyes on the pale features of the Reviler. aWe do not choose our paths, we can only choose the manner in which we tread them. Decisions are reached elsewhere.a aBy the will of Corax and the Emperor,a intoned Luthar, bowing slightly to acknowledge Octaviusa words.

aBy the Emperor and his sons,a paraphrased Octavius, smoothing the wave of unrest that pulsed around the room at the mention of Corax, the enigmatic primarch of the Raven Guard and their successor Chapters.

aThe Reviler is right,a seethed Sulphus in barely audible tones. aCorax had a will of his own. Duty is something that human failings conspire to ruin. The flesh is weak.a The Iron Father of the Red Talons did not look up as he spoke. He simply muttered the words into the machine parts that he was cleaning flexing and unflexing the mechanical joints on one of his arms where splinter-fire had left scoring on the surface of the metal. As he worked, his mind was racing back through the legends of how Corax and the Raven Guard had left Ferrus Ma.n.u.s to his fate on Istvaan V, even as the Warmasteras ma.s.sed forces mustered for battle. Ferrus Ma.n.u.s, primarch of the Iron Hands, the father Chapter of Sulphusa Red Talons, had been unerring in his duty a only the weakened flesh of the Raven Guard and the Salamanders had lacked the necessary will for power. The legends were hardwired into the memories of every Red Talon, ensuring that they should never forget the weakness of flesh.

aWhat was that, Talon?a snapped Luthar, taking a step towards the apparently introspective Iron Father.

Sulphus looked up. There was no hint of contrition or guilt on his face, which was barely visible behind the patchwork of reconstructive plates and sensory augmenters, even without his helmet. aIam sure that even your fleshy ears were not mistaken, Reviler.a There was no emotion in the voice at all a it was not an accusation nor even a jibe, there was no defiance in the tone. It was simply a statement.

Turning his face from the simmering gaze of Luthar, Sulphus addressed Octavius. aWhere is the Blood Angel, captain?a This time, there was genuine contempt in the Red Talonas words.

Octavius hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say. aYou are referring to Librarian Ashok of the Angels Sanguine, Iron Father?a aOf course.a The flat tone suggested that Sulphus saw no difference between the successor Chapter and the Blood Angels themselves. aHe also appears to have left us.a The connection with Corax in Sulphusa mind was thus laid bare for the others to see. It was no secret that the Blood Angels were pa.s.sionate warriors, amongst the finest and most devout in the galaxy, but for the Iron Father this pa.s.sion looked like the irrational weakness of human flesh. There could not be a Chapter further from the ideals of Ferrus Ma.n.u.s than the Blood Angels.

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