Legion

  ANOTHER BUZZER SOUNDED.

  ‘Ten minutes!’ Bronzi yelled above the hangar’s uproar to his waiting company.

  He looked at Mu. ‘Our beloved lord general is cutting it fine. At this rate, we’ll be making it up as we go along.’

  She did not respond to his bait.

  He tried again. ‘I half expect to open the packet and find a note saying “Have a good time, see you soon”,’ he said.

  Mu grinned, very slightly.

  ‘Uxor?’ said Jahni.

  Mu turned. Genewhip Boone came jogging across the pad towards them. ‘Authority has finally been issued,’ he called as he approached.

  ‘At last,’ said Bronzi. He tore open his order packet with his teeth. Mu took hers from Tiphaine, and opened it rather more demurely. They were both silent as they read.

  ‘Well?’ asked Boone.

  ‘Land and hold,’ said Bronzi.

  ‘It doesn’t seem too bad,’ said Mu.

  ‘Open dropzone, mind, and the terrain looks ropey,’ said Bronzi.

  ‘It doesn’t seem too bad,’ Mu repeated.

  ‘We’re not far off the five-minute buzzer,’ said Boone. ‘Anything you want to catch before it’s too late?’

  Bronzi shook his head.

  ‘Then march in fortune,’ Boone said, and ran on to the next company.

  Mu turned to her aides, who gathered around her, and began her ’cept briefing. Bronzi took another look at his orders, checked he hadn’t overlooked anything, and ambled over to his men. They all turned to him. Those that had been sitting down on the deck got to their feet.

  ‘Jokers!’ he shouted. ‘Today’s benediction from his highness the Lord Commander comes in the form of an orbit to surface drop, into open country, for seize and hold purposes.’

  There weren’t too many groans.

  ‘Terrain is said to be moderately contoured with moisture, which I think is Tactical’s way of saying precipices with waterfalls.’

  The men laughed.

  ‘We’d better expect rugged geography, which means the drop is going to be tricky. Watch what you’re doing, especially those lugging heavyweight kit. I don’t want anybody coming off the ramp onto a slope or scarp and going over. No broken necks, please, no broken legs or ankles, not even sprains, I’m looking at you, Trooper Enkomi.’

  More laughter.

  ‘Full dispersal when we hit. Vishnu formation. Uxor Mu will ’cept your markers. Get down, get to those markers, and dig in. The object of the exercise is the seizure of territory. Once we’ve got our feet dry, we’ll advance as per my instruction as the situation allows. Plan is, we’ll be marching in country on this one, my lucky lads, so let’s hope none of you skimped on the endurance training.’

  More groans.

  ‘Remember, my Jokers, a dropzone is like a woman. Land on her firmly, and make sure you have the vital parts located before you get going.’

  The men laughed again.

  ‘If the drop goes according to plan,’ Bronzi continued, ‘we’ll have the Carnivales west of us, and a unit of light armour to our east. Of course, the drop will not go according to plan, because they never do, so expect to be facing the wrong way with your heads up your arses. All right, settle, it wasn’t that funny, Zhou.’

  The men quietened down.

  ‘This isn’t a ramble,’ Bronzi declared, ‘this is a serious operation. Extraordinary, don’t you know? So no backsliding, no idling, no thinking with your pants on backwards, no tarting about, and no mistakes. You’re the geno’s own Jokers, best in the Chiliad, so be sharp, be alert, and be what the trickster god created you to be. Which, in case you didn’t know, is to be the best fugging assault infantry to ever come out of Terra. Questions? Lapis?’

  ‘Will it be cold?’

  ‘Fug me on a stick!’ Bronzi shook his head. ‘Yes, so bring mittens and a scarf, Lapis, you pretty little girl.’

  The men laughed loudly, and Trooper Lapis fended off playful slaps and jabs.

  ‘Calm down,’ said Bronzi. ‘In all honesty, it looks like it’ll be pissy damp and cold. Scans show open land, little shelter, and steady precipitation, which is rain to you, Trooper Kashan. Hands up anyone who ignored this morning’s standing order and didn’t put on his boot liners and underglove, or sleeve his weapon? Better still, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know how stupid you decided to be when you got up today. If you get trench foot or crotch rot, if you freeze, or you find your fugging weapon won’t actually fire, then it’s your hard boo-hoo, and the genewhips will see you later. Anything else?’

  Tche raised his hand.

  ‘Tche? Is this going to be a sensible question, or something about the availability of local fruit produce like last time?’

  ‘I like fruit,’ Tche protested.

  ‘Good for you. Your question?’

  ‘The one thing you haven’t covered, het,’ Tche said. ‘What hostiles can we expect to meet and greet?’

  The Jokers whooped and roared aggressively.

  Bronzi raised a hand for quiet. ‘Excellent point, excellent point, Tche. There’s a reason I haven’t covered it. According to the specs, our target world is uninhabited. There are no hostiles.’

  This provoked the rowdiest chorus of all.

  ‘That’s right, that’s right… we’re dropping dirtside for a nice walk in mountain scenery,’ Bronzi yelled above it. ‘Now shut up! That’s better. What’s the first rule of common soldiering? Trooper Duarte?’

  ‘Always assume that anyone in a position senior to you isn’t telling you everything?’

  ‘That’s my boy. There’s more to this than meets the eye, so don’t get slack.’

  A buzzer sounded, crude and brazen, across the vast deck.

  ‘That’s it!’ Bronzi yelled. ‘The five-minute buzzer! Pick up your stuff, pick up your arses, and leave all your complaints and regrets on the carrier, they’ll still be here when you get back. Jokers, are you with me?’

  ‘March in fortune!’ they yelled back.

  ‘Company first, Imperium second, geno before gene!’ he shouted. ‘Now get the fug on with it!’

  He strolled back towards Honen Mu. Her briefing had finished, and the aides had gathered into a tight huddle, discussing tactical variations in fierce, low voices.

  ‘No hostiles?’ he remarked to Mu. ‘That’s just got to be bad data, right?’

  Mu shrugged. ‘There’s another alternative. This is a seize and hold. The Lord Commander is asking us to make a section of territory secure. I’m tempted to suppose there’s something valuable down there, and we’re being sent in to secure the ground so that it can be recovered.’

  ‘Something valuable like what?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘Perhaps the Lord Commander’s congenial side?’ Bronzi blinked. ‘What?’ she asked.

  ‘You made a joke, uxor,’ he beamed. ‘An actual, proper, honest to goodness joke.’

  She looked back at him. Her mouth wasn’t smiling, but her eyes were. ‘Yes, well, don’t tell everyone, or they’ll all want one,’ she said.

  The deck quivered and they heard the distant rumbling squeal of the plasma catapults at the stern end of the platform discharging.

  ‘That’s the first of the escort fighters away,’ said Bronzi. ‘It won’t be long now. Nervous?’

  ‘Why would I be nervous, Hurtado?’ Mu asked.

  He hunched his shoulders. ‘It’s not often that the uxors get to ride down with us soldier types at the sharp end of things. You usually follow on with the support lines.’

  ‘Operational requirements,’ she replied. ‘We can’t provide you with reliable ’cept coverage from orbit.’

  ‘Uh huh. So, I was thinking… I could arrange to sit next to you, and hold your hand if it gets bumpy,’ Bronzi offered.

  ‘That won’t be necessary,’ she replied. ‘I’ve made my share of combat drops. March in fortune, Hurtado.’

  ‘’cept me well, Honen,’ he replied.

  She made a half bow
and returned to her girls.

  Bronzi took one last look around the vast carrier deck. An electric munition train clattered past. Four flight crewmen were frantically working to replace a faulty hydraulic on the nosegear of a nearby lander. Another pair of hook-nosed escort fighters whined by overhead on the primary hoist. The tanks had finally started loading, and more armour pieces had drawn up on the ramp from the lower deck, waiting to advance to the wait line for boarding.

  He did what he always did before a drop, his private ritual. He pressed his fingertips to his lips, and then bent down and touched his fingertips against the deck.

  ‘Let us all see you again,’ he whispered. ‘Let us all come back safe.’

  He rose. He pulled his order packet out of his pocket, and made one final check to make sure he hadn’t missed anything.

  It turned out he had.

  Tucked inside the vellum sleeve, along with his sheaf of orders, was a small green sliver that he at first assumed was a leaf.

  He realised that it was a wafer-slim piece of metal machined to resemble a lizard’s scale. On it, in Edessan, was written a brief, whimsical phrase, which translated as ‘Your father cheers, your mother cries, that is the lot of the soldier’. Beside the phrase was the embossed brand of the hydra.

  Bronzi stroked his thumb across the raised image. He put the green scale in his pocket and walked towards the waiting drop-ship.

  NAMATJIRA LED ALPHARIUS into the forward lookout of the flagship Blamires. Vast petal-form ports glazed the side walls of the triangular chamber and met in a sharp apex overlooking the kilometre of prow projecting ahead of them.

  ‘Give us the room,’ Namatjira snapped, and the servants and ensigns hurried out. Chayne closed the hatch behind them and stood guard, his hands behind his back. Alpharius turned and looked pointedly at the Lucifer.

  ‘He goes where I go,’ Namatjira explained, helping himself to a flute of frost wine from a side cabinet. ‘Dinas has the highest clearance.’

  Alpharius nodded. ‘Very well,’ he allowed.

  ‘A toast, lord primarch? Or is that contrary to your regimen?’

  ‘Why not?’ the primarch replied.

  Namatjira poured a second glass, and handed it to Alpharius. The sub-servos of the primarch’s gauntlet hissed and whined as they adjusted to the subtle act of gripping the flute without shattering it.

  Namatjira walked towards the starboard side of the ports. His thylacene lay snoozing on the bank of seats under the windows. That’s the Maskeleyne,’ Namatjira said, pointing with the same hand that was holding the glass. ‘A heavy carrier, very versatile. ‘That, behind it, you see, is the Tancredi, an Outremar vessel.’

  Alpharius came and stood behind him. The view from the lookout was humbling. The plates of the ports had self-tinted to reduce glare, and diminish the blaze of the local sun. Space fell away beneath them and soared away above. A trillion, trillion stars glimmered in that endless night. To the starboard side of the Blamires lay the eclipsed target world, a massive globe with a peal of light just slipping off its shoulder. Off to the flagship’s starboard, a formation of mainline vessels hung, gleaming, in the target world’s shadow, laid out in a chain astern, across several thousand kilometres.

  ‘That’s the Agostini,’ Namatjira went on, ‘and behind it, the siege frigate Barbustion. Behind that, the carrier Loudon—’

  ‘I know the names and indicatives of all the fleet vessels,’ said Alpharius.

  Namatjira smiled and turned to face him, taking a sip of his wine. ‘I’m sure you do, sir, but, oddly, I cannot name your great barge.’

  He glanced back at the ports. ‘That’s it there, isn’t it?’ he asked, pointing towards a dark blur seven hundred kilometres off the Blamires’s starboard bow. ‘That shielded object?’

  ‘We do not name our ships,’ Alpharius said. ‘We simply designate them with serials.’

  ‘Oh, and what is that barge’s designation?’ asked Namatjira.

  ‘Beta,’ replied Alpharius.

  ‘Ah. I am forced to wonder what Alpha is doing this day,’ Namatjira grinned.

  ‘It is occupied elsewhere,’ Alpharius replied.

  Namatjira turned back and looked the giant figure up and down. ‘Well, to business. My lord primarch, I summoned you because I find I have some misgivings.’

  ‘Misgivings?’ Alpharius asked.

  ‘You made a firm commitment to me, sir, at Empesal. You swore that this undertaking would absolve the shame of the Nurth fiasco. You promised it would present me with the opportunity to make reparations for that loss, and restore my dignity and reputation in the eyes of the Council of Terra.’

  ‘I stand by that promise,’ Alpharius said.

  Namatjira wandered over to one of the window couches, and sat down. He took another sip of his wine.

  ‘As you explained it to me,’ he said, ‘the purpose of this mission is to acquire information vital to the continued security of the Imperium. The Emperor, you said, will thank me and reward me for securing this valuable intelligence, and bringing it to his attention. I might even expect a place on the High Council. I can only speculate as to what this information could possibly be.’

  He paused. ‘And that’s where my misgivings begin. I can only speculate, because you won’t tell me. I think it’s high time you let me a little deeper into your confidence.’

  ‘I see,’ said Alpharius.

  ‘You just watched me issue my authority and mobilise my forces in your service, Lord Alpharius,’ said Namatjira, with a slight tone of menace. ‘I deserve to know more.’

  Alpharius pursed his lips, and set his flute down, untouched. ‘You were willing enough,’ he said, ‘when I co-opted your expedition for this venture. My word was sufficient guarantee then.’

  ‘Well, it turns out, it isn’t any more,’ said Namatjira.

  ‘That’s a pity,’ said Alpharius.

  ‘What is the nature of this information?’ asked Namatjira. ‘What does it concern? Where is it, and how do we secure it? Who has it? How did you learn of its existence and its location? What could possibly be so important, so valuable, so revelatory, so damn secret, that the fate of all human culture depends upon it?

  ‘You will know precisely what I choose to tell you, Namatjira,’ said Alpharius.

  ‘My Lord Commander said he needs to know more,’ Dinas Chayne stated quietly, but firmly. He took a step forwards.

  Alpharius slowly turned his head and looked at Chayne. ‘Or what, companion? I hope for your sake that you don’t presume to threaten me.’

  Chayne did not move.

  Alpharius ignored him and looked down at Namatjira. ‘I had heard that the Lucifer Blacks were remarkably brave. I didn’t realise they were clinically insane.’

  ‘Step back, Dinas,’ said Namatjira with a casual flick of his hand. ‘My Lord Alpharius understands the burden of command. He knows full well that the paramount responsibility of a man in my position is the security and welfare of his forces, and it is his solemn duty to disengage those forces from any undertaking that he deems unwise or reckless. Isn’t that right, my lord?’

  Alpharius said nothing.

  ‘I will not put my soldiers in harm’s way without a very good reason,’ said Namatjira, ‘a very good reason, and a reliable source of intelligence. I would be derelict in my duty otherwise.’

  Alpharius gazed through the ports for a moment, and contemplated the dark world below. ‘In the course of the Nurth campaign,’ he said quietly, ‘my infiltration networks encountered the agent of a xenoform faction. The faction calls itself the Cabal. The agent claimed that the Cabal was in possession of certain information vital to the Imperium of Man. No evidence or provenance was offered, but the Cabal had clearly put a great deal of effort and ingenuity into making contact with me. They extended an invitation to meet with them, so that this information could be transmitted. 42 Hydra Tertius is the site chosen for that meeting.’

  ‘Are you saying that this whole endeavour was insp
ired by the baseless tattle of some xenos spy?’ asked Namatjira. ‘Dear me, sir, I thought you were shrewd.’

  ‘I never said I believed him,’ Alpharius replied. ‘While there’s even a chance that his story is true, we cannot afford to ignore it. If it’s a lie, then we’re here, in force, to locate and suppress a dangerous xenoform power that has the means and skills to attempt manipulation of the Imperium. This is how I presented it to the Warmaster, and it is on this basis that he granted this expedition Extraordinary status. Lord Commander, we may be about to save the Imperium, or go to war to exterminate an insidious alien menace.’

  Namatjira rose to his feet. ‘And which do you suppose it is, sir?’

  Alpharius shook his head. ‘I make no guesses, lord, but there is one significant fact. It was the agent who first warned me of the Black Cube. But for that warning, we would all be dead.’

  ‘And this agent?’ asked Namatjira.

  ‘He was operating inside the Imperial Army in an extremely capable and efficient manner. He got remarkably close to the centre of things.’ Alpharius looked over at Chayne. ‘He slew one of your men, companion.’

  ‘Konig Heniker,’ whispered Chayne.

  ‘That’s right,’ said Alpharius. ‘That was one of the identities he adopted, at least. My operatives captured him on the last day of Nurth’s existence. He’s in my custody.’

  ‘Well,’ murmured Namatjira. He lit up a very careful and benevolent smile. ‘I feel my misgivings ebbing away. Thank you for your disclosure. This will, of course, remain entirely classified.’

  ‘I expect no less,’ Alpharius replied. He turned and walked towards the hatch. ‘I take it our conversation is done?’

  ‘One last thing,’ Namatjira called to him. ‘If the story is true, and this meeting takes place, I will, naturally, be there at your side.’

  The Lord Commander didn’t wait to see how Alpharius might respond. He turned to the windows. ‘Oh, look. There they go!’ he cried out jauntily, and pointed. Bright sparks, like meteorites, had begun to sear down out of the carriers behind them.

  Alpharius opened the hatch and left the lookout.

  ‘Dinas?’ Namatjira said. ‘In the light of the primarch’s comments, please re-examine all the data we have on Konig Heniker.’