The Beast Arises

Bohemond looked from Benzeine to Leshento, waving the slate back and forth in his giant’s hand as though hoping the two men might fight each other to be the one to have it. Neither would have dared. With a scowl, the High Marshal tossed the slate dismissively into the hands of one of the Royal Barque soldiers.

The information could have been delivered by data-burst, but the wheels of Terran bureaucracy were greased by such petty ceremonies.

The skitarii and Navy men filed out. The single Adeptus Arbites enforcer guarding the steps down to the fifth tier battlements saluted the magos explorator and the rear-admiral. Koorland was uncertain what she was there for. He smiled slightly.

His protection, he presumed.

As the last of the men disappeared down the steps, Bohemond strode across the platform and clasped Koorland by the forearm. Koorland returned the pressure on the High Marshal’s elbow guard.

‘It is good to see a friendly face, brother.’

‘Is that a joke?’

Koorland grunted, amused, but no longer seemed to feel like smiling. They released each other’s arms and stepped back, almost wary. ‘You have not come around to Udo’s edict, I take it,’ Koorland said.

‘If he wishes to disperse the Chapters, then I say let him try and make us.’

‘Mind what you say, brother. Your anger at the High Lords’ ingratitude is understandable. I share it. But it is because of thoughts like these that we must disperse.’

‘I do not care about their ingratitude,’ Bohemond muttered darkly. ‘It is their ineptitude that concerns me.’

‘If it will keep the Council on my side then having you and the others join the Fists Exemplar at Phall is a small price.’

‘And if the orks simply lie in wait for such an opening? There could be millions yet in the attack moon’s core, biding their time, and as the Mechanicus did not permit us to delve deeper we cannot say for certain that we destroyed the only teleportation device they have.’

‘Phall is little more than a month away at worst, and fifty Space Marine veterans is no token force.’

To be counted amongst a Space Marine Chapter’s finest was no small thing, and from the First Companies of the Fists Exemplar, Black Templars, Crimson Fists, Excoriators and Iron Knights, Koorland had reconstituted the shield corps. Daylight. Hemisphere. Tranquility. Bastion Ledge. Ballad Gate. Zarathustra. Lotus Gate. He meant no disrespect to the Lucifer Blacks, who had stepped up to fill the Imperial Fist-sized breach in Fortress Terra, but they were not Space Marines. War would undoubtedly come again to the Imperial Palace, and when it did, then like the Arch-Traitor before them, the orks would meet walls defended by the sons of Dorn.

‘Can you hold for that long?’ said Bohemond.

‘It is ground, brother. I can hold it.’

Bohemond revealed his twisted grin, as if he were showing off a knife, and he nodded across Koorland’s shoulder. The enforcer had approached and halted about two metres away and threw a salute.

‘I know you, enforcer,’ said Koorland.

The part of the woman’s face that was visible between her chinstraps and visor seemed suddenly to glow. It was a look that Koorland had become wearily familiar with amongst the Palace’s mortal defenders. The sort of look reserved for saints and saviours. ‘Galatea Haas, lord, and,’ she rolled her shoulder to show her rank stripes, ‘it’s proctor now.’ She bit her lip, as though worried she might have offended her transhuman lord by wasting his time with something as trivial as mortal hierarchies, then added, tentatively: ‘You remember me?’

‘I seldom forget,’ said Koorland. ‘Thank the Emperor for designing me thus.’

‘I… I will.’

‘Praise be,’ Bohemond murmured.

‘Can I help you, proctor?’

‘Yes, lord.’ She snapped another salute and held it. ‘The provost-colonel demands the return of Daylight Pad Theta to the Adeptus Arbites.’

‘Tell her no.’

Haas smiled. ‘Thank you, lord.’

With a growl, Bohemond turned his back on the woman who reached barely as high as his elbow and made to head back to his shuttle.

‘They demand your protection, but only so long as you do not inconvenience their little fiefdoms. I leave you to it, brother, and may I never find myself embroiled in politics again.’

Koorland nodded his agreement. ‘From my shuttle, I saw rioters outside of the Great Chamber itself. I am not surprised.’

‘They should be put down,’ rumbled the fourth Space Marine present, Eternity, standing at the near edge of the platform opposite Daylight. ‘The expression of such dissent within the Palace grounds is a capital sin.’

The Black Templar who had become Eternity had demanded that wall and that duty, had insisted that he be the last line between the Custodes and the rest of the universe. He, more than anyone, served as a reminder that an Imperial Fist was more than just the colours that he wore. Haas looked towards the towering wall-brother, a sudden wariness, fear even, causing her face to tense, as if she had heard this particular Black Templar’s voice before.