Текст книги "Deliverance Lost"

Автор книги: Гэв Торп

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Текущая страница: 25 (всего у книги 27 страниц)

‘That is correct,’ said Nestil. He twirled the chain with Sixx’s digi-key around his finger. ‘We have the key-codes. What do you want us to do?’

‘Destroy all of it. Deactivate the stasis field and destroy every last scrap of gene-seed. I want there to be no chance of the Raven Guard recovering from this attack.’

‘Understood,’ said Solaro.

‘Before you do this, secure the gene-tech data. Give it to one of the assistance force and have him place it in the weapons locker at the east end of the north corridor. I will despatch another operative to retrieve it.’

‘Another operative?’ said Ort. ‘All three of us are here.’

‘That is not your concern, legionnaire. Do as I command.’

‘As you will it, lord,’ said Solaro.

He took a storage box from a nearby work bench and upended it, spilling long syringes to the floor.

‘Put everything in here,’ he said. ‘You heard the primarch.’

DUST FELL FROM the cell’s ceiling as another blast rocked Ravendelve. Navar and the others sat or crouched in a circle in the middle of the chamber, glancing up with every shell impact. They were under orders to stay where they were, but it was unnerving to do nothing while they knew Ravendelve was under attack.

A thud against the door caught their attention. Navar got up and waved for the others to be ready.

‘Careful,’ Kharvo said, exposing pointed teeth.

Navar nodded and raised a clawed hand to strike. He fumbled at the handle with the other, his talons making it hard to grip. Pulling open the door, he was forced to step back as a bloodied body fell into the room.

‘It’s Vincente Sixx!’ said Navar, kneeling over the wounded Chief Apothecary. Blood pumped from a poorly cauterised gash in his chest, soaking his white robe. Sixx’s wild eyes roamed across the ceiling for a moment as the other Raptors gathered around.

‘Traitors,’ whispered Sixx. ‘Infirmary. Protect… Protect the gene-seed.’

With a blood-caked hand, he pulled open the front of his robe, revealing the black bodysuit beneath. There was a bolt pistol in a holster at his hip. Navar nodded in understanding and pulled the weapon free.

‘No…’ said Sixx. He coughed up more blood and waved his hand weakly towards the inside of his robe.

‘There’s a pocket,’ said Kharvo, reaching inside. He pulled out a triangular piece of metal with a Raven Guard symbol embossed on one side. ‘It’s a command key.’

Sixx’s face contorted with pain, but he forced himself up on one elbow.

‘Weapons lockers, bay seven,’ said the Apothecary. ‘Was getting charges.’

‘We’ll fetch someone to tend you,’ said Navar, standing up.

‘Gene-seed!’ hissed Sixx. ‘Your future.’

‘We will protect it,’ said Benna, gripping Sixx’s shoulder with a scaled hand. ‘Keep strong.’

The Raptors moved out into the corridor, Navar leading the way with the bolt pistol. They came to the next door and opened it. Fifteen deformed Raptors looked up from their makeshift bunks.

‘Hef, take five others and bring back weapons, we’ll gather the rest of our brethren,’ said Benna, who had been a squad leader before implantation. He pointed towards the doors leading to the infirmary chambers. ‘Kharvo, keep watch down there.’

The Raptors divided without debate, Navar taking the digi-key from Kharvo. It was good to stretch his legs as he sprinted down the passageway towards the weapons lockers with Marls, Ghoro, Tandrad, Myka and Hal close on his heels. As they reached the doors, a huge explosion rumbled above them, followed by the thunderous crash of falling masonry.

‘Sounds like Turret Two is down,’ said Myka. ‘We’d better hurry up.’

Slamming open the doors, Navar looked left and right down the passageway beyond, Sixx’s pistol gripped tightly in both hands. He saw a Raven Guard legionary standing guard by the archway to the loading bays above the armourium. The legionary turned in surprise and lifted his bolter.

‘It’s all right,’ said Ghoro, lifting up his hands. ‘Raptors! The infirmary is under attack.’

‘Watch out!’ yelled Marls, barrelling into Ghoro as the legionary opened fire. The bolt caught Marls in the arm, ripping through flesh and bone just beneath the shoulder.

Navar fired without thinking, acting out of instinct, his first shot catching the legionary in the side of the chest, sending the traitor’s next shot into the wall beside Ghoro and Marls. The next two shattered the legionary’s shoulder plate as he stumbled back to his feet.

The legionary turned his bolter towards Navar and time seemed to slow. The Raptor felt a ripple of cold racing through his body as he aimed the bolt pistol at the legionary’s face and pulled the trigger again. As he felt the recoil of the launch charge kicking the pistol, muzzle flare erupted from the legionary’s bolter. Two flickering trails of propellant passed each other.

Navar’s shot hit a moment earlier, punching through the grille of the legionary’s mask before detonating inside his helm. An instant later, pain screamed through Navar’s side as the counter-shot tore a chunk from his chest, sending fragments of white-hot metal into his fused ribs.

Navar stumbled back and was caught by Myka and Tandrad. He looked down at the wound, a fist-sized hole just beneath his pectoral on the left side.

‘Check him!’ snapped Ghoro, jabbing a finger at the downed legionary.

‘Why did he shoot?’ asked Marls. ‘What’s going on? If it’s our own legionaries, how can we tell who is on our side?’

‘Let’s just get to the infirmary,’ said Ghoro. ‘Sixx said they were there. Anyone else we meet, we’ll just have to take our chances. Get to the arms locker, I’ll help Navar.’

Navar was passed into the arms of Ghoro, who lowered him to the floor, back against the wall.

‘It’s not too bad,’ Ghoro said with a grin.

Navar looked down. The wound was already sealing over with a thick scab, the Larraman cells in his blood clotting almost instantly. The pain had already subsided to a dull ache as other compounds flooded his system.

‘Guess there are advantages to being a monster,’ said Navar. He gestured for Ghoro to help him up, feeling his strength returning.

The other Raptors returned a couple of minutes later, carrying plasteel weapon and ammunition crates between them, bags stuffed with grenades and other supplies slung over their shoulders. Opening up one of the crates, the Raptors armed themselves with the bolters inside and took several magazines each, tying the bandoliers around their thighs and arms.

Feeling a lot more confident, his injury almost forgotten, Navar opened the next crate. Inside was a melta-gun, and several spare casks of pressurised gas.

‘I’ll take that,’ said Ghoro, lifting the weapon from its padded cradle. He looked at the others, perhaps expecting protests, but there was no time for arguments. Shutting the lids on the boxes, the Raptors headed back to the cells where the others were waiting.

SEVENTEEN

Attack, Withdraw, and Attack Again

Cut Off the Head

The Truth of It

THERE DID NOT seem to be anyone in command, but the Raven Guard prided themselves on their autonomy and initiative. Lacking orders from their superiors, the sergeants mustered their squads to the defence of Ravendelve. Balsar Kurthuri found himself with Sergeant Caban and an ad-hoc squad of seven other legionaries, heading through the murk of the rad-wastes towards the enemy attack. Macro-cannon rounds screamed overhead from the remaining defence towers, answered by shells, las-fire and plasma bolts from the renegade Titans escorting the column.

The residual atomic fallout was interfering with Balsar’s auto-senses, leaving him half-blind in the thick fog, unable to use thermal or wide-spectrum scanning. He deactivated his armour’s sensors, relying on his own augmented vision to pierce the gloom. The black-clad warriors to either side of him were barely visible, but their armour transponders relayed their locations to a schematic in his visor. Sergeant Caban was at the front, and it was from him that there came a crackled warning over the vox.

‘We have movement, fifty metres ahead and right. Infantry. Disperse right, thirty metres. No friendly forces in the area, engage on sight.’

Balsar picked his way over a pile of slag, casting his gaze to the left and right. It would be so easy to open up his othersight, allowing the potential of his mind to flow outwards to detect the enemy. It would also be simple enough to incinerate them with a psychic blast once they were found, and the temptation to use his powers was almost overwhelming.

There were no Chaplains left within the Legion to enforce the Edict of Nikaea, and Balsar recalled Lord Corax’s words from outside the vault room. The situation had changed, and it was surely sensible to use every weapon available against the traitors. Balsar was still not sure what had happened next. He had definitely felt a connection with the psychic locks placed upon the door, intricately beautiful and impenetrable. It had been an urge from within to engage his psychic powers, and had Balsar ever wanted to discuss the event with another, he would have claimed he had been guided by the Emperor. It certainly had felt as if an outside agent had been controlling his thoughts for those few moments, and remembering the complexity of the seals placed on the door, Balsar was sure he would not have been able to dismantle them on his own.

If the Emperor had acted then, as seemed to be the case, then surely that was license for Balsar to use his powers again?

A deeper shadow emerged from the fog just to Balsar’s left. The Raven Guard fought back the urge to reach out with his thoughts. Instead, he brought up his bolter and opened fire, hitting the figure low in the torso with two rounds.

‘Enemy!’ he announced over the vox. ‘One down.’

He opened fire again at more silhouetted targets, telling himself it was not his place to second-guess the judgement of the Emperor.

THE AIR IN the antechamber was well below freezing point, the walls crusted with ice. Five more Alpha Legionnaires stood watch in the corridor outside, masquerading as Raven Guard, while Ort and Nestil went through the process of shutting down the stasis field generators in the main vault. Solaro stood ready with the digital key, idly snapping small icicles from the cover of the keypad with the tip of his finger.

‘Why the delay?’ Solaro asked, looking over his shoulder at Ort. The other legionary stood at an open power relay panel shaking his head.

‘Is this really necessary?’ asked Ort.

‘The primarch was specific,’ said Solaro. ‘Just shut it down.’

‘I don’t know,’ said Ort, stepping back from the relay. ‘It’s one thing to take the Raven Guard out of the war. It’s another to wipe them out entirely. When Horus defeats the Emperor, we’ll need allies to rebuild the Imperium.’

‘You’re an idiot,’ said Nestil, pulling out a transformer switch. ‘The Raven Guard will never serve Horus now, not after Isstvan. Corax is too stubborn. When we win, they will just disappear like they always do, and continue fighting us at every chance. Do you want to spend years watching your back, wondering when the Raven Guard will come for us?’

‘We’ve all seen what that mutagen did to the Raptors,’ said Ort. ‘It’s tainted, unnatural. And the Word Bearers? We all saw them at Isstvan, and I saw them up close at Cruciax. I don’t think it’s Horus that’s behind this war, it’s something a lot worse. You know what I’m talking about.’

Nestil turned, a cluster of wires in his fist.

‘More fool them,’ he said. ‘I know what you’re talking about and we all heard Corax’s speech. This war was coming, like it or not, and we had to choose a side. Better that we are with the victors than the losers. The Emperor’s forces were crippled at Isstvan. That could have been us between the guns of the Word Bearers and Iron Warriors. Be thankful the twin primarchs made the right choice.’

‘It’s too late to have second thoughts,’ said Solaro. ‘What the Word Bearers choose to do is up to them, we don’t have to pay attention to them any more. Let them dabble in their sorcery. It’ll burn them in the end and we’ll be the ones left laughing.’

‘Besides,’ said Nestil, returning to his work, ‘with this gene-tech, the Alpha Legion will be the ones who will hold the balance of power. Us, not Lorgar, Angron or even Horus.’

Ort said nothing as he stepped back up to the relay panel and began to disconnect the cables.

‘What was that?’ said Nestil, glancing towards the door.

Solaro had heard it too, a shot ringing out against the background of the bombardment.

‘Maybe those stupid guilders have actually managed to get through the curtain wall,’ said Ort.

‘No, that was inside, close by,’ said Solaro.

Suddenly the bark of bolter fire filled the corridor outside.

‘Keep working!’ he snapped, moving towards the door.

The Alpha Legionnaires on watch were firing down the corridor to the right, blazing away freely. Bolt-rounds were screaming past them from the direction of fire. Drawing up his bolt pistol and power sword, Solaro stepped out and turned just as one of the legionnaires crashed to the ground, armour riddled with jagged holes.

From the direction of the infirmary, a group of misshapen warriors were attacking, taking cover behind the roof supports that jutted from the bulkheads every few metres. Solaro looked into dozens of fury-filled red eyes, in faces contorted with horns, fangs and tusks. Some of the attackers were covered in scales of red or green. Some were muscle-contorted monstrosities whose biceps and shoulders bulged under the fabric of their robes.

All of them were armed, the hail of bolter fire intensifying as more poured through the doors at the end of the passageway and emerged from the chambers connected to the infirmary. A round glanced from Solaro’s shoulder pad, sending splinters of ceramite flying.

‘Forget that!’ he snapped, ducking back into the vault’s entry chamber. ‘We’re too late. It’s time to leave.’

Ort and Nestil stopped what they were doing and snatched up the bolters they had set aside to work on the energy relays. They closed in behind Solaro, who stepped to the corner of the door and snapped off a few shots at the incoming Raptors.

‘We’ll cover you,’ said one of the Alpha Legionnaires, slamming home a fresh magazine into his weapon as bolt detonations erupted on the stanchion he was sheltering behind.

‘Run!’ Solaro barked, waving his power sword. ‘Before they cut us off.’

Pounding out into the passage, the three operatives turned and fled from the Raptors, not even pausing to fire a shot. Solaro glanced back as they reached the far doors, and saw that all but two of the Alpha Legionnaires had been taken down, selflessly putting themselves between the withdrawing operatives and the Raptors. They were making good account of themselves though – at least a dozen robed bodies sprawled across the floor of the corridor.

‘Make for the landing apron,’ said Nestil as the security door hissed open in front of them.

When they had passed through, Ort turned and fired into the lock control pad, bringing the door slamming down.

‘Let’s see them come after us now,’ he said.

‘You abandoned our legionnaires back there,’ said Nestil.

‘They’ll go down fighting,’ said Solaro, taking a turning to the right. ‘We have to get out of here.’

They sprinted through across the upper level of Ravendelve and made for the stairwell close to the main gate, which Solaro hoped was still in the hands of their comrades. Taking the steps three at a time, they launched themselves down the stairs, heading for the gatehouse.

Reaching the bottom, they paused and looked around. In the courtyard behind the gatehouse were several legionaries in the livery of the Raven Guard, but it was impossible to tell if they were sons of Corax or simply masquerading as such. Two gigantic praetorian servitors flanked the gate itself, along with a handful of the Mechanicum’s herakli warriors.

‘Through here,’ said Ort, gesturing with his bolter towards the east tower guard room.

‘Calmly now,’ whispered Solaro. ‘No need to rush.’

The defenders by the gate paid little attention to three Raven Guard striding into the gatehouse, though Solaro felt a small amount of relief once they were out of sight again.

‘How do we get out?’ said Nestil.

‘The gallery is in ruins,’ replied Ort. ‘Our Thunderhawks saw to that. We’ll be able to jump down easily enough.’

‘I’m not sure about leaving the gene-tech here,’ said Solaro. ‘What if the other operative can’t retrieve it?’

‘It’s too late to go back,’ said Nestil. ‘We have done as we were ordered. It’s time to extract.’

Solaro conceded the point with a nod and they made their way to the inner stairwell. The floor above was a rubble-choked ruin, the shards of the shattered gallery window scattered amongst the debris. The fog had thickened again, but standing on a pile of pulverised ferrocrete, Solaro could make out two bulky shapes out by the landing field.

‘The Thunderhawks are still here, as I thought,’ he said, sheathing his power sword and holstering his pistol. He grabbed hold of a twisted plasteel reinforcing rod jutting from the remains of the outer wall and swung out of the gallery. ‘Come on.’

They had to drop the last few metres to the ground, but there was no sign of any Raven Guard in the vicinity. The steady thunderous report of the surviving macro-cannon punctuated the whine and boom of falling artillery shells, but the guilders seemed to be targeting the other end of Ravendelve. Overhead, Stormbirds and Thunderhawks were diving through the clouds, their cannons and missiles raining fire down onto the guilder column. Solaro could see a plume of bluish fire dancing above the curtain wall, the leaking plasma reactor of a Warhound Titan.

As they approached the closest Thunderhawk, Solaro felt a creeping unease. He activated his vox-link, trying to hail the pilot, but received no reply. Approaching through the mist, he discovered that the cockpit canopy was shattered, and there were several smoking holes in the fuselage.

‘Let’s hope the other one is undamaged,’ said Nestil, cutting to the right under the Thunderhawk’s wing.

‘Hope is a weakness,’ a voice called out from behind them. ‘It is the first step on the road to disappointment. If you were Raven Guard, you would know that.’

Solaro turned, drawing his weapons. A black-armoured figure stood at the edge of the landing pad. He had a lascannon held up to his shoulder, aimed at the Alpha Legionnaires, its cable snaking down to a power pack on the ground beside him. He stood with one foot on an octagonal box that had a thick metal grip-handle running around its circumference. Lights winked in sequence on a small display beside the Raven Guard’s foot.

‘It’s over,’ the figure called out. ‘You have no way of escaping. The Wrathful Vanguardand the Triumphare moving in to blockade the planet even as I speak.’

His surprise fading, Solaro recognised the voice.

‘Agapito? It’s me, Solaro! What are you doing?’ he called back.

‘You might have his face, but you are not the Solaro that I knew,’ said Agapito, the lascannon directed at the faux-commander. ‘The company you keep tells me that for sure.’

‘You’re making a mistake, Agapito,’ said Solaro, putting his pistol in its holster. ‘See? Don’t do anything rash.’

‘What do you mean about the company he keeps?’ said Ort, glancing at the other two Alpha Legionnaires.

‘I didn’t know about you, Ort, or whatever your name is. Unfortunately for you, your companions were not as thorough in hiding as they thought. Nestil, how did you recognise the Phalanx? The Raven Guard have never served in the same warzone as the Imperial Fists fortress. And Solaro, who else would have clearance to break my command codes and use my personal channel? It certainly wasn’t Branne or Aloni.’

‘You’re just one legionary,’ said Solaro. ‘What do you hope to achieve?’

‘You never fought for Deliverance, Solaro,’ said Agapito, tapping his foot on the box beneath his boot. He pointed the lascannon at the device. ‘But I’m surprised you don’t recognise an atomic charge when you see it. Five hundred kilotons: more than enough to wipe out Ravendelve and every traitor in it. You can’t escape with the gene-tech. I’ll level this whole place if you try.’

‘You won’t do that,’ said Nestil, taking a few steps back, bolter in both hands.

Solaro heard a distinct thrum and glanced over his shoulder. Twenty golden-armoured warriors were standing in the fog, power fields flickering along the blades of their halberds. The Custodian Guard were between the Alpha Legionnaires and the main gate.

‘How many more of you have turned? What did the traitors offer you?’ Agapito snarled. ‘What was the price the Warmaster placed on our primarch’s head?’

‘Our primarch?’ said Ort, with a laugh. ‘You know nothing of our p–’

Solaro lashed out with the power sword, slashing through the fool’s throat before he could say any more. The Alpha Legionnaire collapsed face-first to the ground, gasping his last bloody breath into the acid-tinged puddles.

‘Tell me!’ roared Agapito. ‘Tell me what you know and you will be granted quick deaths. If not, I am sure Lord Corax will make an exception to the ban on the Red Level. Even a legionary cannot endure the torments on offer there.’

Solaro looked at Nestil, and though they could not see each other’s faces, their subtle nods indicated they were in agreement.

‘What makes you think you can take us alive?’ Solaro snarled.

He lunged, thrusting his power sword through the heart of Nestil as the sergeant pulled the trigger and sent a bolt-round smashing through Solaro’s helm. The two of them fell into each other and twisted to the ground, locked together in death.

CAUGHT BETWEEN THE wall of Ravendelve and the advancing forces of the Mechanicum, the outnumbered guilder force was pushed back into the rad-wastes. Reinforcements from Deliverance harried the retreating foe, exacting revenge for those who had fallen, and the Imperial Fists under Captain Noriz lent their strength to that of the Raven Guard. The battle continued well into the night, the sky awash with explosions and las-fire. In the city, the arrival of the Titans of the Legio Vindictus halted the Order of the Dragon, though great swathes of the city were left as blasted wasteland, the rubble choked with the dead of both sides. The sky above Kiavahr was filled with the smoke of thousands of fires, blotting out the stars and moons. Mechanicum aircraft dropped incendiary bombs and plasma charges onto the guild houses where the Order of the Dragon held out, while the guns of the Legio pounded away with shell and las-blast.

Under the orders of Corax, Ravendelve was sealed, the warriors of the Raptors and the Custodians slaying several Raven Guard that tried to leave under the cover of the confusion. With the immediate threat to the gene-tech quashed, the primarch ordered Commander Branne to stand down the Avenger’storpedoes and arrived to oversee the aftermath.

He was met at the ruins of the main gate by Agapito and Arcatus, with a bodyguard of loyal warriors standing ready to escort the primarch.

‘I want an explanation, commander, and I want it now,’ demanded Corax as he strode through the remnants of the gatehouse.

‘The situation is very confused, lord,’ said Agapito. ‘Ravendelve is secure from attack, but the threat within is uncertain. We tallied the dead from the fighting and have found more than thirty legionaries who do not appear on our records.’

‘Infiltrators,’ growled Corax. ‘Traitors wearing the colours of the Raven Guard.’

‘What of Solaro and the others?’ said Agapito. ‘Why would they turn against us?’

‘I am not so sure they did,’ said Arcatus. Agapito and Corax looked at the Custodian for explanation. ‘You have been the victims of a devious masquerade. My order understands intimately the means by which an intruder can enter an organisation unnoticed. It is our sole task to thwart such attempts. I believe there is only one Legion capable of such deception.’

‘The Alpha Legion,’ said Corax, growling again. ‘This treachery bears their hallmark.’

‘We shared air with Solaro for a long time. If he and the others were Alpha Legion in disguise, how can we say for certain that any of the others are loyal?’ said Agapito.

It was a tricky problem, but Corax knew the answer almost immediately.

‘My true sons will bear my mark,’ said the primarch. They had reached the main hall, where the remaining Raven Guard had handed over their weapons and were being watched over by Custodians and first generation Raptors. ‘My genetic data is wrapped up inside every cell of your bodies, while any infiltrators will bear the code of another primarch. Have Vincente Sixx screen every legionary for genetic markers that do not match the Raven Guard gene-seed.’

‘Sixx is dead, lord,’ said Agapito. ‘He died defending the gene-project.’

‘What of Orlandriaz?’ said Corax. ‘Has he survived?’

‘He is in the infirmary, working out what damage has been done by the traitors,’ replied Agapito.

‘You cannot expect to continue with this project?’ said Arcatus. ‘Not after what we have witnessed here? We barely stopped the traitors escaping with the genetic material. It is too much of a risk, I cannot allow it.’

Corax stopped, stung by the Custodian’s words. He looked at the ring of Raptors in their combat-scarred armour, standing guard over their battle-brothers without hesitation or complaint.

‘What about those Raptors who have suffered from our mistakes?’ said Corax. ‘Do we condemn them to their sorry existence?’

‘Spare them the pain,’ said Arcatus. ‘Each of them contains the seed of what you have done here, and perhaps locked within their twisted bodies is the means to achieve what you hoped. They are just as much a threat as the data contained in the gene-vault.’

‘No,’ said Agapito. ‘We cannot kill them out of hand! What reward is that for the service they have done for the Legion today?’

‘Agapito is right,’ said Corax. ‘I cannot murder them in cold blood. They have the bodies of beasts, but they have proven that their hearts are Raven Guard.’

The primarch rubbed a hand across his brow, conflicted in his thoughts. Was it folly to believe that he could right the wrong he had done to the Raptors? He had left Terra convinced he could rebuild the Raven Guard and despite all that had happened, the need to confront Horus’s forces still existed.

Corax left the hall with Agapito and Arcatus beside him and made his way to the infirmary. At each conveyor and stairwell, armed Raptors stood guard, their distinctive armour marking them out in the dim emergency lighting. The trio headed along the north corridor, passing by shuttered weapons lockers emblazoned with the icon of the Raven Guard. Two hulking herakli stood guard in front of one such row of metal boxes, their multi-barrelled cannons tracking the primarch and his companions as they passed. A Mechanicum acolyte loitered in the shadow of one of the brutes, fussing over the belt of his robe. With the Raven Guard garrison held under guard and the reinforcements engaging the guilders in the atomic marshes, Orlandriaz and a contingent of his allies had provided much-needed security within and without Ravendelve.

‘If the Alpha Legion is involved, we must assume that they will not be content with simply destroying what they found,’ said Arcatus as they reached the conveyor that led to the infirmary. ‘If you continue with this experimentation, you will attract the attention of Horus sooner or later.’

Corax lifted a portable vox from his belt and opened up a command channel.

‘Let us see what the Commander of the Raptors thinks,’ said the primarch. ‘Branne, have you heard what was said?’

‘Aye, lord,’ Branne replied over the communicator. ‘Every word. Agapito and the Custodian make good points, but I have a different view. If we continue, there is the possibility that we might find a means to reverse the predicament of the tainted Raptors. On the other hand, how many more recruits do we risk before its discovery? Lord, I think it is time that we closed this door and locked it forever. If we are to rebuild the Raven Guard it has to be through the means we know and can trust.’

‘Wise words, commander,’ said Corax. The group stepped into the conveyor, Corax bowing his head to avoid the ceiling. As the elevator shunted into life, the primarch made a decision. ‘There are no swift answers to our situation. We have done all we can, but our efforts have fallen short. The gene-project will be terminated immediately and any research that was missed by the Alpha Legion will be destroyed.’

‘What of the Raptors?’ said Agapito. ‘They are not to blame.’

‘And I do not hold them at fault,’ the primarch replied. ‘I cannot – I willnot – kill them out of hand. They were accepted into our brotherhood of warriors and as members of the Legiones Astartes they will be granted the same fate as all of us: to die with honour in battle against the Emperor’s foes.’

‘It is still your intent to launch an attack against the traitors?’ asked Arcatus. ‘Your Legion is in disarray, primarch.’

‘The assault on Narsis will commence as planned,’ said Corax. ‘If this episode proves anything, it is that the Raven Guard do not sit well when idle. In battle we thrive, not in contemplation. More than ever, we need a victory, to restore spirits and forge a new brotherhood within the Legion. We have been divided for too long, between those of Terra and the men who liberated Deliverance, between those who survived Isstvan and those who saved us, between the veterans and the Raptors. No more. We are Raven Guard and we shall show the Imperium that we are united.’

They found Magos Orlandriaz in the infirmary. The wards were full of casualties from the fighting, most of them the Raptors who had taken on the infiltrators without armour. Several dozen of the beds contained still forms, the bloodstained sheets drawn up over their faces. Corax stopped beside the bed of one of the Raptors, who had heavy bandaging around his chest.

‘The Legion owes you a great debt, legionary,’ the primarch said. He knew the face and name of every man under his command, and the Raptor was no different. ‘It’s Hef, isn’t it? Navar Hef?’