Carcharadons: Void Exile, page 7
‘Recalibrations complete,’ buzzed Ze-One-Prime’s voice, this time in a dead machine dirge, before the more human affectation reactivated. The magos dominus proffered Kordi’s bolter with their spindly lower limbs, its backplate refastened.
‘The tecnos have been replaced and the autosight recalibrated to within zero point zero one eight of a degree. The machine spirit is salved. I am honoured to have communed with it.’
Kordi took his weapon and resisted the temptation to check it immediately, instead locking it to its mag-point.
‘My brethren and I will make an assessment of your defences,’ he told Ze-One-Prime, making sure to avoid implying that they intended to fully occupy the skybridge fortifications.
‘Praise the Omnissiah,’ Ze-One-Prime said, cracking their cane off the rockcrete underfoot. ‘Esteemed Datasmith Folcrum and his Kastelans shall lead the way!’
Kordi nodded once, and voxed the rest of his brethren.
‘Second Squad, on me. We’re leaving.’
CHAPTER VI
The summons reached Khauri two days after his visit to the Pinnacle.
The Thunderhawk Razortooth returned him to the White Maw. The strike cruiser had departed from Diamantus after the Third Company had deployed to the surface, taking its small fleet with it as it ranged out in the direction of Grim Destiny. The space hulk was continuing its slow voyage in-system, not having deviated once since it had first been detected on the augur arrays emerging from deep space months earlier. Exactly when it had re-entered realspace from the warp was something even Khauri’s psy-prognostications could not discern. All that was certain was that its course was taking it directly towards Diamantus.
The Company Master had wished to oversee the scans of the hulk in person rather than deign to quash the rebel workers on the planet surface, but apparently he had decided against engaging while Grim Destiny was still on approach. Now the White Maw was dropping stasis anchor in Diamantus’ high orbit again, and direct contact between Third Company and its absentee commander had been re-established.
His first act had been to demand Khauri’s presence on board his flagship.
The Librarian passed through the strike cruiser, accompanied by several senior Chapter-serfs from the crew. As he paced the bare, still corridors he sought to calm his thoughts, focusing on the deep silence within, the black, untouched nothingness that was anathema to the diabolical spirits that haunted and hunted him.
He had learned that the best way to quieten them was to drown them.
That was one of the many lessons Te Kahurangi had taught him. But it was not the spirits he knew he would have to hush on board the White Maw. This visit would require a different kind of focus, a mindset so unfamiliar to many of his brethren, the same one he had been forced to adopt in order to smooth dealings with the Adeptus Mechanicus.
Matters were strained throughout the Third Company, and the latest operational assignment had only exacerbated their problems. Since the fall of Cadia and the opening of the Cicatrix Maledictum, the Chapter had been required to campaign ever more frequently alongside other Imperial forces. The Nomad Predation Fleet had been dragged in from the edges of the Outer Dark by desperate strategic necessity. Working closely with any other part of the Imperial war machine, even other Chapters, was something the Carcharodons despised, but such was the nature of the times.
Issues seemed to multiply when operating alongside the Adeptus Mechanicus. Unlike Militarum generals or even planetary governors, they could not be intimidated, and reacted badly to being ignored. The only contact the Chapter usually had with the adepts of Mars was during the Grey Tithe, or on the rare occasions when an explorator fleet forged out into the dark and their purposes aligned with those of the Nomad Predation Fleet. Both circumstances were very different from the situation forced upon the Third Company on Diamantus.
But the Red Wake’s instructions had been clear. The forge world could not be allowed to fall.
Khauri suspected Bail Sharr would have navigated a course through the arising difficulties, but he was no longer part of the company. He had been cast out of the Shiver, disgraced, stripped of his arms, his armour, even his very name.
His replacement had adopted a very different style of command.
The Librarian entered the White Maw’s bridge. Much of the chamber was carved from basalt and coral, jagged and primal. The blue shimmer of the ancient strike cruiser’s shields played through the ports and across the bridge’s surfaces, and combined with the deep, pressing quiet, it lent the space the air of some submerged, ancient throne room.
The serfs that comprised the crew were garbed in simple grey shifts. Shaven-headed and malnourished, they worked in silence at their station terminals and in the console pits ringed around the central command platform.
That place was reserved for the Carcharodons themselves, though it was not unusual for the only Space Marine present to be Shipmaster Teko, the overlord of the White Maw and the leader of the Third Company’s fleet. He was not alone as Khauri entered, though; Techmarine Uthulu was monitoring the ship’s systems with him, but there was another, more uncommon presence commanding the space. The venerable shipmaster had surrendered the coral throne that stood in the middle of his command platform. It was occupied by Kino, Master of the Third Battle Company.
Nine Red Brethren stood like graven statues before the bridge stations, lining the approach to the throne. They were First Company veterans, clad in their off-white Terminator armour, the very air around them thrumming with the potency of the ancient battle suits. Kino wore the same wargear, rather than the equipment more commonly borne by the Master of the Third. Though it had been four years since he had assumed command of the company, he still looked – and, in Khauri’s mind, acted – like a First Company strike leader.
Khauri walked between the Terminators, feeling their cold gaze upon him but refusing to return it. The name given to the First Company of the Carcharodon Astra – Red Brethren – seemed incongruous, given their armour was typically even paler than that of the battle companies. The reason for the moniker quickly became apparent during combat. It was rare for an engagement to end without the veterans drenched in the crimson viscera of the Void Father’s enemies.
Their presence was often unwelcome among the battle companies, partly by design. They were an intentional disruption to the Shiver, a reminder that though a company may be detached from the Nomad Predation Fleet for years or even decades, the eyes of Lord Tyberos were forever upon them. Each Red Brethren strike leader spoke with the authority of the Red Wake himself, and would ensure that whatever objectives a particular fleet were given by the Chapter Master would be met.
Until four years ago, it had been Kino who had performed that duty with the Third. After Sharr’s disgrace, the company had been left leaderless, and with the recent death of Strike Veteran Dorthor while crossing the Rubicon Primaris, there had been no obvious replacements from amongst the Shiver.
Kino had taken command, as was his right in such circumstances, and the Third Company had not had enough extended contact with the Nomad Predation Fleet to propose a different master from within their own ranks.
Of course, the fact that a former member of the Red Brethren was now Master of the Third presented problems of its own; as dedicated as they were to the Chapter, its structures and its discipline, Khauri doubted Kino’s brethren would ever find much fault with their own former strike leader. But given the unusual circumstances involving the loss of the previous Company Master – to exile rather than death – it seemed almost certain Kino’s role would not be fully ratified until the Third Company rejoined the Nomad Predation Fleet. Only Rangu knew when that would happen.
‘I have noted that my company has redeployed without my orders,’ Kino said as Khauri arrived before the coral throne, eschewing any attempt at formalities.
‘Greetings, Company Master,’ Khauri replied. ‘And yes, that is correct.’
‘The orders bear Strike Veteran Nuritona’s sigil, but I doubt he would act unilaterally. Am I wrong?’
‘No,’ Khauri said. ‘I suggested the redeployments.’
‘Why? Has the rising among the menials been terminated?’
‘I believe so. What little resistance remains is well within the capacity of the skitarii to eliminate. The redeployment is due to my wish to temporarily avert the danger of a serious rift between ourselves and the Adeptus Mechanicus. Matters have been escalating rapidly, and in your absence I decided I had to act.’
Like Khauri, Kino was still wearing his helm, the boar-like piece of wargear betraying nothing, but the anger in Kino’s voice as it scraped over the vocaliser was clear.
‘You have no right to dictate orders to my strike leaders. I am countermanding your redeployments.’
‘Any effort to reoccupy the upper slopes of the megafactorum would draw extreme ire,’ Khauri said. ‘I suggest a meeting between yourself and the Fabricator General would be required if our alliance with this forge world, perhaps even the wider Cult Mechanicus, is not to become unworkable.’
‘If the Adeptus Mechanicus wish to complain about the aid we offer them, they can come here and do it in person,’ Kino said.
‘With all respect, Company Master, they will not do that,’ Khauri said, tiring of the former Terminator strike leader’s brute attitude towards negotiations. ‘The situation between ourselves and the Mechanicus is at breaking point. I was only attempting to alleviate the pressure, and by countermanding my dispositions I fear we would make enemies of our supposed allies.’
‘And what do you expect to happen when Grim Destiny arrives?’ Kino asked. ‘The cordon is too extended. We are spread too thin.’
‘There will be time to rectify that. Crucially, that time will be after the Fabricator General has come to appreciate the gravity of the threat, and how valuable our assistance can be.’
Kino gazed upon Khauri in stony silence for a few moments before speaking again.
‘Perhaps I should have left Strike Leader Rangon on the surface, to ensure my orders were properly followed,’ he said, referring to the commander of the Red Brethren, promoted in the wake of Kino’s own rise. ‘I thought we had moved beyond this… indiscipline.’
‘Any lack of adherence to your commands is purely my fault, Company Master.’
‘Reaper Prime,’ Kino declared. Khauri was silent, not understanding.
‘You will address me as Reaper Prime,’ Kino elaborated. ‘Do not think I have not noted that over the years, Librarian, I am only ever referred to as Company Master, not Reaper Prime. That is my rank, however, my title, and my sworn duty to the Chapter. There are ten Carcharodon Astra Company Masters, but only one Reaper Prime. That is what you will call me.’
‘Of course, Reaper Prime,’ Khauri said woodenly.
‘Tell me of your prognostications,’ Kino demanded. ‘Does what you saw when we first arrived here still hold true?’
‘Yes,’ Khauri said, wondering whether the change of subject indicated that the Company Master had accepted his advice about the Mechanicus. ‘I have swum deep in the tides of the immaterium, and seen the terrible things lurking there. The filth of Chaos, even more rancid and potent than is often the case. What festers aboard that hulk is abominable indeed.’
‘That is why we are here,’ Kino said dismissively.
‘I would recommend we strike at the first possible opportunity. By the time the space hulk reaches Diamantus, it may already be too late.’
‘Noted. You are dismissed.’
Khauri hesitated, wondering if he should press the point, but he decided against it. The conversation had been fraught enough already, and he knew the Company Master would not appreciate his attempts to articulate the warnings he had gleaned from his scrying. Kino was a weapon: blunt, simple, and highly effective. Mere portents would not influence how he was used.
As Khauri was about to leave, Kino spoke again.
‘Librarian.’
Khauri paused, looking back up at the coral throne.
‘I know you have been attached to this Shiver more than any other since your initiation, but that does not change your rank,’ Kino said. ‘The Librarius is outside the company command structure. You are here as auxiliary support, and in your capacity as an adviser. You will not issue direct orders to my squads again. If you do, the favour the Pale Nomad has shown you will not save you. Is that understood?’
‘Yes, Company Master,’ Khauri said, and departed.
CHAPTER VII
Beyond the gates, the signs of life began to multiply.
The space hulk was no longer the frozen tomb its lower decks resembled. Not all the passages, berths, and stations the Exiles passed through were shrouded in darkness. Lumen orbs, yellow and grimy with age, cast rotten light over the abandoned sections or blinked into some semblance of life as the Carcharodons approached. Other systems showed signs of activity as well – pipes clattered and rattled, generators ticked, and in one broken section of bridge it even looked like the cogitators were active, running some continuous, self-replicating program.
The Void Exiles also noted the pounding. It was faint at first, barely registering with their auto-senses, detectable only as the slightest tremor in the decks. It grew the higher they journeyed, becoming a repetitive, metallic hammering, until the sections the Exiles passed through were shuddering with the continuous strikes.
Sharr recognised it as the sound of industry.
Corruption also intensified. Metal appeared warped and twisted, parts of pipes forming strange spirals and wall and decking plates becoming curved like the shells of crustaceans or ribbed with plates of brass or steel that glistened with multicoloured hues. Fleshy growths started to appear like scabs over sections of corridor, webbed between pipes and congealing across the floor. It thickened in places, and the pulsating of strange, unnatural organs was visible through the dermal membranes. Eventually, some corridors looked more like the innards of a huge beast than the gangways of old, intermeshed ships.
The sight of such infestation and the sickly stench that accompanied it repulsed Sharr on an instinctive level. He wanted to rip it all apart, tear it down and stamp it to pulp. To rend and purge such abominations had been coded into his very consciousness since the first days of his induction.
But that would risk undermining what they had come here to do, the reason they had been seeded in the hulk’s path. Grim Destiny was too vast, and the taint within it ran too deep, for even his fury to overcome it alone. He knew that, and so he mastered the revulsion as best he could, and continued to follow the others.
There would be a time for the Blindness, of that he was certain.
The Exiles entered the maintenance tunnel of what appeared to be an old merchant super-freighter, the space barely wide and high enough for them to pass along. The pauldrons and reactor packs of the Space Marines scraped against the rusting metalwork and snagged old wiring looping from the ceiling.
Sharr brought up the rear, moving sideways so he would be able to turn if something came at them from behind. He caught scuttling sounds, and his armour’s senses picked up traces of what it identified as hissing, but when he looked back there was no indication of pursuit.
It had been the same for days. There were half-sensed, partly seen things all around them, observing them. Occasionally they would show up briefly on Blood Eye’s auspex, but for the most part they remained illusory. Sharr felt their eyes on him always, though – watching, waiting.
The maintenance tunnel began to degenerate. There were more growths, purple and bruised. The deck turned to meat, and Sharr felt it yielding under him with each step. He had to fight the urge to stamp down.
Soon the tunnel was more like a digestive tract than part of a ship, flesh squeezing in all around them, the wires overhead now veins and intestinal loops that writhed as foul things squirmed and fought their way along the membranous channels. Here the hammering noise resembled the thunder of some vast heart, making the flesh shudder with each solid beat.
A rune signifier representing possible contact winked up on the visor. Sharr took another glance back to ensure the vile orifice behind them showed no signs of pursuers, then switched his view momentarily to what Blood Eye was seeing, using their helmets’ shared uplink.
There was a hatchway ahead, though it was no longer a thing of plasteel or armaplas. It was formed from a hundred or so arms that bristled out from the meat walls on the left and right, interlocking with one another to bar the passage. Hands gripped wrists and forearms, and fingers clasped, forming a barrier of limbs.
‘Hack them apart,’ Shadow suggested.
Blood Eye approached, knife unlocked, but as he drew nearer the arms seemed to sense him. They unclasped and let go, hugging back to the walls with eerie silence and leaving the way open.
Sharr had no doubt they were all considering the likelihood of a trap. Blood Eye carried on slowly, but the arms showed no sign of lashing out. If anything they seemed to cringe away, trying to avoid contact with the Space Marine’s armour.
Sharr switched his vision back to his own helm, and they carried on.
The space beyond was even worse than the one they had left. The flesh tunnel was narrowing precipitously, forcing them to stoop.
‘Is this the only way?’ Talon demanded testily.
‘Yes,’ Blood Eye replied. ‘If we wish to avoid the main decks. Crawl.’
The Carcharodons shoved themselves through the slimy morass, Sharr’s teeth clenched as he placed his mind elsewhere. Now was no time to lose control.
Finally, the taint began to lessen, the service tunnel’s pitted metalwork returning, though the space afforded to the Exiles didn’t improve. The pounding was now more intense than ever, the whole duct shaking and rattling. They continued to work their way awkwardly along, and Sharr noted bars of light thrown against the left-hand wall. He looked through the vent grate it was shining through as he passed, taking a mental snapshot of the scene beyond.
