Hero of the Imperium, page 19
‘Precisely.’ Zyvan nodded approval, and indicated a couple of choke points. ‘They could cut us off here, and here with no trouble at all. We’d be blockaded and swallowed up in months. While they could reinforce at their leisure from at least four systems.’
‘Which is why we’re so desperate to avoid a full-scale war over this miserable mudball,’ Amberley said. ‘Keeping it would tie up our naval assets from at least three sectors just to secure our supply lines, and we’d be funnelling Guard and Astartes units in from all over the Segmentum. Putting it bluntly, it’s not worth the effort.’
To say that I was astonished would be putting it mildly. It had been an article of faith for as long as I could remember that the sacred domains of His Majesty’s Imperium should never be polluted by the alien no matter the cost. And here was an inquisitor no less, and the lord general himself, apparently quite happy to let the tau just walk in and have the place. Well that was fine with me, of course, especially if it kept me out of the firing line, so I nodded judiciously.
‘I can sense a “but” coming,’ I said.
‘Quite right.’ Zyvan nodded, clearly pleased by my astuteness. ‘Just letting the little blue grox-lovers walk in and take the place isn’t acceptable either. It would send entirely the wrong message to them. They’re already popping up on worlds all over the sector and arming to keep them. If they take Gravalax without a fight, they’ll think half the Segmentum is up for grabs.’
‘But we could beat them in the long run,’ I said, trying not to picture the decades of grinding attrition that would ensue as the overwhelming might of the Imperium met the technosorcery of the tau. It would be the biggest bloodbath since the Sabbat Worlds crusade.
‘We could. Eventually.’ Amberley nodded soberly. ‘If they were the only threat we had to face.’ She widened the view, systems falling into the centre of the hololith, new ones coalescing at the fringes of the projection field. Several systems were tagged in red. I recognised one of them as Corania, and then, a moment later, I picked out the Desolatia system where I’d first been blooded against a tyranid horde over a decade before.
‘In the last few years, tyranid attacks have been increasing in this region of the galaxy,’ Zyvan said. ‘But you’d know all about that.’
‘I’ve seen a few,’ I admitted.
‘There’s a pattern,’ Mott butted in. ‘Still not clear, but definitely beginning to form.37
‘Our greatest fear is that they could be the harbingers of a new hive fleet,’ Amberley said soberly. I tried to envision such a thing, and shivered involuntarily. The hordes I’d encountered before had been weak, the scattered survivors of hive fleet Behemoth which had been shattered centuries before, but still dangerous shards of poison in the body of the Imperium. Even attenuated as they were, they could still overwhelm a lightly defended world, growing in strength with each one they consumed. The prospect of facing a fresh fleet with almost limitless resources was, quite simply, terrifying.
‘Then let’s pray you’re wrong,’ I said. Unfortunately, as we now know, she was right twice over, and the reality was far worse than even my craven imaginings.
‘Amen.’ Zyvan made the sign of the aquila. ‘But if she’s not, those ships and men will be needed to defend the Imperium. And it’s not just the ‘nids...’ He trailed off as Amberley shot him a venomous look. Clearly I wasn’t supposed to be let in on everything.
‘Necrons,’ I said, jumping to the obvious conclusion. I pointed out the tomb world I’d been lucky to escape from a couple of years before. ‘Not the friendliest of xenos. And cropping up more frequently of late, if these contact icons are anything to go by.’ I indicated a couple of others in the same purple script.
‘That would be pure speculation, commissar,’ Amberley said, a clear warning tone entering her voice, but Mott nodded enthusiastically.
‘A two hundred and seventy-three per cent increase in probable necron contact over the last century,’ he said. ‘Only twenty-eight per cent fully confirmed, however.’ That would be because the majority of contacts left no survivors, of course.
‘Be that as it may,’ Amberley said, ‘the fact remains that the resources we would expend fighting a war for Gravalax are likely to be needed elsewhere, and if we’re forced to use them now, we would be fatally weakened.’
‘Which still begs the question of who would be insane enough to try to provoke such a war, and what they could hope to gain by it,’ I said, eager to show I was paying attention.
‘Precisely what the inquisitor was sent here to find out,’ Zyvan assured me.
‘Not exactly.’ Amberley killed the hololith display, probably to stop me from making any more uncomfortable guesses about what might be lurking in the outer darkness. ‘Our attention was drawn to the increase in tau influence on Gravalax, and the activities of certain rogue traders who seemed to be profiting from it. I came to look into that, and assess the loyalties of the governor.’
‘That’s why you had Orelius pressuring him for trade concessions,’ I said, the coin suddenly dropping. ‘You wanted to see if he had any influence with the tau.’
‘Quite right.’ She smiled at me, like a schola tutor whose least promising pupil has just recited the entire catechism of abjuration. ‘You’re really quite astute for a soldier.’
‘And your decision?’ Zyvan asked, carefully not taking offence at the remark.
‘I’m still considering it,’ she admitted. ‘He’s certainly weak, probably corrupt, and undeniably stupid. He’s let the alien influence take root here far too deeply to be dislodged without considerable effort. But he’s no longer our primary concern.’
‘You mean the conspirators?’ I asked. ‘Whoever’s trying to provoke a war over this?’
‘Precisely.’ She nodded, favouring me with another smile, which, perhaps due to wishful thinking, looked remarkably like praise. ‘Another astute deduction on your part.’
‘Do you have any clue as to their identities?’ Zyvan asked. Amberley shook her head.
‘There’s no shortage of enemies who would stand to gain from weakening the Imperial presence in this sector,’ she said, with a warning glance at Mott, who seemed on the verge of listing them. ‘Not least the tau themselves.’ He subsided with visible disappointment. ‘But whoever it is is undoubtedly working through the xenoist faction here, and the PDF units they control. Fortunately, the Guard seem to have drawn their teeth without dragging the tau into it, for which we can all be thankful.’
Zyvan and I took the implied compliment without comment.
‘How is the investigation into the ambassador’s murder going?’ I asked. ‘If you find the assassin, you find the conspirators, don’t you?’
‘Probably.’ Amberley shook her head. ‘But so far we don’t have a suspect. The autopsy showed he was killed by an imperial bolt pistol at close range, but we already knew that, and half the guests at the party were carrying one. Our best lead is still the xenoist connection.’
‘Or it was,’ Mott chimed in with a censorial glare at me. ‘Until this young man set fire to it.’
‘I’m sorry?’ I gazed at him in confusion.
‘So you should be,’ he said, without rancour. Amberley sighed.
‘The local Arbites have been keeping tabs on the most vocal xenoist groups. One of them used to hold meetings at that warehouse, so we went to check it out.’
‘And found a bit more than you bargained for,’ I chipped in helpfully. She nodded.
‘That we did. We found a way down to the undercity.’
‘Definite surprise there,’ Mott chipped in helpfully. ‘Although given the amount of relatively new tau-influenced architecture in the city as a whole, finding one wasn’t totally unexpected.’
I suppose I must seem naive, but up until this point it had never occurred to me that there wasn’t an undercity – part and parcel of growing up in a hive, I suppose. You see, most imperial cities are millennia old, each generation building on the remains of the last, leaving a warren of service tunnels and abandoned rooms under the latest level of streets and buildings, often tens, or even hundreds, of metres thick. Mayoh, being so sparsely populated in imperial terms, didn’t have anything like so thick a layer beneath it, but I’d just taken it for granted that it was bound to have the same labyrinth of sewers and walkways below its citizens’ feet as any other urban area I was familiar with.
‘Seems like a good place to plot sedition,’ I conceded.
‘Ideal,’ Amberley agreed. ‘As we found to our cost.’
‘We were ambushed,’ Mott said, ‘though not before determining that the tunnel system is extremely extensive.’
‘Ambushed by who?’ Zyvan asked.
‘Ah. Well, that’s the question.’ Amberley cocked her head quizzically. ‘Whoever they were, they were well armed, and well trained. We barely got out alive.’
‘Tomas and Jothan didn’t,’ Mott reminded her, and her brow darkened for a moment.
‘Their sacrifice will be remembered,’ she said, in the reflex way people do when they don’t really mean it. ‘They knew the risks.’
‘More PDF defectors?’ Zyvan asked. I shook my head.
‘I don’t think so. My aide and I got a good look at several of them. They were definitely civilians.’
‘Or in civilian clothes,’ Mott suggested. ‘Not necessarily the same thing.’
‘In either case,’ Amberley said decisively, ‘we need more information. And there’s only one place we can get it.’ I began to develop a familiar sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
‘The undercity,’ Zyvan said. The inquisitor nodded.
‘Precisely. Which is why I require your assistance.’
‘Anything at all, of course.’ Zyvan spread his hands. ‘Although I don’t quite see–’
‘My retinue is out of action, lord general. And I’m not stupid enough to undertake an expedition of this nature entirely alone.’ Well, anyone could see that. ‘I’d like to request the use of some of your Guard troopers.’
‘Well, of course.’ Zyvan nodded. ‘You can hardly rely on the loyalty of the local PDF.’
‘Exactly.’ She nodded again.
‘How many do you want?’ Zyvan asked. ‘A platoon, a company?’ Amberley shook her head.
‘No. We’ll need to move fast, and light. One fire-team. And the commissar to lead them.’ She turned those dazzling eyes on me again, and smiled. ‘I’m sure a man of your formidable reputation will be up to the challenge.’
I wasn’t, you can take my word for it, but I couldn’t refuse a direct request from an inquisitor, could I? (Although if I’d known what I was getting into, I’d probably have given it a damn good try.) So I nodded, and tried to look confident.
‘You can rely on me,’ I said, with all the sincerity I could fake, and from the grin which quirked the corner of her mouth, I could tell she wasn’t fooled for a second.
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ she said. ‘I gather your regiment has had a great deal of experience in city fighting, so I’m sure they’ll be ideal.’
‘I’ll ask for volunteers,’ I said, but she shook her head.
‘No need.’ She skimmed a dataslate over the tabletop to me. I stopped it, a premonitory tingle beginning in the palms of my hands. ‘You’ve already assigned some.’
I glanced at the list of names, already knowing, in the way you can see the avalanche start even before the rocks begin to slide, what I’d read there. Kelp, Trebek, Velade, Sorel and Holenbi. The five troopers on the planet I’d least trust to watch my back, unless it was to stick a bayonet in it. I lifted my head.
‘Are you sure, inquisitor? These troopers are hardly the most reliable–’
‘But they are the most expendable.’ She grinned at me, the mischievous light back in her eyes. ‘And I’m sure you can keep them in line for me.’
It was official, then. This was a suicide mission. I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry.
‘You can count on it,’ I said, wondering how in the name of the Emperor I was going to get out of this one.
TEN
‘Trust? Trust’s got nothing to do with it. I just don’t want them out of my sight.’
– General Karis, after promising full access
to his command bunker to the local PDF
commanders on Vortovan.
‘Are you sure about this, commissar?’ Kasteen asked, clearly as troubled by the prospect as I was. She and Broklaw had joined me in my office at my request, and I’d filled them in on as much of the assignment I’d been handed as Amberley would permit. I sighed deeply.
‘No, I’m not,’ I admitted. ‘But the inquisitor was quite insistent. These are the troopers she wants.’
‘Well, we’d better give them to her,’ Broklaw said. ‘At least they’ll be off our hands at last.’ Kasteen nodded, clearly cheered by the prospect.
‘That’s true,’ she conceded. Despite my best efforts to arrange their transfer to a penal legion, the Munitorium was proving as slow and obstructive as usual, and didn’t seem the least bit inclined to send a ship all the way out here just to pick up a handful of cannon fodder. Normally, that wouldn’t have been a problem, I’d simply have found space on the next outbound freighter or something, but Gravalax wasn’t exactly the hub of the Segmentum, and even what little shipping there normally was had almost dried up as the political situation deteriorated. Even if the worst-case scenario I’d been shown on the hololith didn’t come to pass, it looked as though we were going to be stuck with the five defaulters until we returned to Imperial space, which was going to be months away at this rate.
Which, in turn, had meant they were our responsibility for the foreseeable future, which wasn’t exactly what I’d had in mind when I cheated Parjita out of his firing squad back aboard the Righteous Wrath.
‘And on the plus side,’ Broklaw went on cheerfully, ‘at least we won’t be losing anyone we’ll miss.’ He stopped suddenly, realised what he’d just said, and floundered in a way I would have found comical under any other circumstances. ‘Not you, commissar, obviously. I mean, we would miss you, but I’m sure we won’t. Have to, I mean. You’ll be back.’
‘I certainly intend to be,’ I said, with more confidence than I felt. I still hadn’t been able to think of a plausible reason to wriggle out of the assignment, so I’d bowed to the inevitable and started trying to find ways of ensuring my own survival instead. None of the troopers could be trusted, that much was certain, but Amberley seemed confident enough so my best bet was to stick close to her and hope she had a plan of some kind. On the other hand, chances were that Orelius’s luckless bodyguards had thought the same thing. Like most hivers, I was comfortable enough in a tunnel complex unless someone was actually shooting at me, so maybe the most prudent thing would be to get conveniently lost at the earliest opportunity and make my way back to the compound after a reasonable interval had passed. Then again, if I did that and Amberley survived she wouldn’t be terribly pleased with me to say the least, and the prospect of hacking off an inquisitor wasn’t one to contemplate lightly.
The upshot of all this was that I’d spent a largely sleepless night vacillating about my non-existent choices until sheer exhaustion had tumbled me into old nightmares of fleeing from gleaming metal killers down endless corridors, heaving grey masses of tyranid chitin roaring in towards me like a tide of death, and a green-eyed seductress trying to suck the soul from my body in the name of the Chaos power she worshipped.38 And probably others too, which I was glad not to recall on waking.
Jurgen appeared at my elbow, presaged by his usual miasma, and poured me my habitual bowl of tanna leaf tea. Instead of withdrawing as he normally did, though, he hesitated next to my desk.
‘Was there something else, Jurgen?’ I asked, anticipating some routine query about paperwork I couldn’t be bothered to deal with. If I was going to die today, I wasn’t going to waste my final hours filling out forms in triplicate. And if I didn’t, which I swore to the Emperor I was going to do my damnedest to achieve, he could sort it out for me while I was gone. That was supposed to be an aide’s job, after all. He cleared his throat stickily, and a faint expression of nausea ghosted across Broklaw’s face.
‘I’d like to go with you, sir,’ he said at last. ‘I wouldn’t trust any of those frakheads further than I could throw a Baneblade, if you don’t mind me saying so, and I’d feel a lot better if you’d let me watch your back.’
I was touched and I don’t mind admitting it. We’d been campaigning together for the best part of thirteen years by that point, and faced innumerable perils together, but his loyalty never ceased to amaze me. Probably because the nearest I’ve ever got to the concept myself is looking it up in a dictionary.
‘Thank you, Jurgen,’ I said. ‘I’d be honoured.’ A faint flush crept up from behind his shirt collar, which, as usual, was open at the neck and stained with something that probably used to be food. Kasteen and Broklaw looked suitably impressed, too.
‘I’d best go and get ready then.’ He sketched a salute, about turned with the closest I’d ever seen him get to precision, and marched out, his shoulders set.
‘Remarkable,’ Broklaw said.
‘He has a strong sense of duty,’ I said, feeling cautiously optimistic about my chances of survival for the first time since Amberley dropped her bombshell. We’d been in some pretty tight spots together over the years, and I knew I could rely on him completely, which is more than I could say for anyone else in the team.
‘He’s a brave man,’ Kasteen said, seemingly surprised by the idea. Most people tended to avoid him, put off by his appearance and body odour, and the vague sense of wrongness he exuded, but I’d been close to him for so long I’d got used to seeing past that to his well-hidden virtues. Though I was the last person you’d normally expect to appreciate them.
