He was the hero of Terra. He had returned bloodied from Ullanor, only to wreak vengeance on the Beast and banish it from the skies. He was the author of this victory.
Koorland accepted he was the author of this night. He wondered whether it was proper to call it a victory. A battle had been won, at the cost of a new catastrophe. And the war was not won. He had only destroyed one of the Beast’s masks. The true monster was still on Ullanor, enthroned in the capital of his newborn empire.
‘Congratulations, Lord Guilliman.’
Koorland winced at the use of the title. He glanced to his right. Veritus had joined him at the rampart. Koorland grunted. He didn’t ask how Veritus had known he would be here. He did wish it was Vangorich who was standing there. ‘For what, inquisitor?’ he asked.
‘For the Deathwatch. For its official recognition by the High Lords.’
‘That was nothing more than what the Council had agreed to, prior to the mission.’ Mesring, he was sure, would still have objected. But Mesring had not been present in the Great Chamber. He was, it was said, resting. If so, that was an improvement over raving and screaming. Koorland saw no downside to the Ecclesiarch’s collapse.
‘In any event,’ said Veritus, ‘you have what you wanted.’
Koorland refused to rise to the bait. ‘If you truly believe that was my intent, you are a fool, and I don’t believe you are.’
Veritus nodded once. ‘Politics are never your intent, Lord Guilliman.’ He emphasised the title, reminding Koorland of what he had become, whether he liked it or not. ‘But politics are your effect. You imposed your will on the Council. They accepted the temporary formation of the Deathwatch, and now that it has proven itself, they are forced to accept its permanence.’
‘Permanence? You think the other Chapters will consent to its existence beyond the end of the war?’
‘And do you think no further crises will arise which would create the need for it?’
This was not a debate Koorland was interested in having. Especially not with the Inquisitorial Representative.
‘What I think,’ he said, ‘is that you did not seek me out to offer congratulations.’
‘No.’ The old man’s gaze was lidded and dark. ‘The Deathwatch did well on the attack moon. Your strategy against the Beast is sound. I am curious, then. How will you use it on Ullanor? How will you decapitate the orks?’
Again Koorland wished Veritus away and Vangorich present. He did not trust the inquisitor. Even though he would reveal his plan of attack to the Council, he recoiled from the idea of Veritus having advance knowledge of it.
Koorland shrugged. He had no plan for Veritus to learn. ‘I don’t know,’ he said.
He was surprised to hear Veritus express sympathy. ‘I do not envy you the responsibility of this decision. We live in a dark age. The orks are stronger and more advanced than they have ever been, and the Imperium cannot do what once it could. We have fallen far.’
The admission took Koorland aback. It seemed that it was Veritus who wished to speak. Behold a wonder, he thought. The Inquisition seeks to unburden itself.
‘I have read the chronicles,’ Koorland said, hoping to prompt more from Veritus.
‘They are far from complete. So much has been forgotten in a thousand years.’ Veritus paused. ‘There are archives…’ he began, hesitated again, then continued. ‘During the Great Crusade, we would have had the means to counter the Beast’s weapons.’
‘I can well believe it.’
Veritus changed the subject abruptly. ‘Have you thought about how the Deathwatch will neutralise the ork witches?’
‘What do you mean?’ Koorland asked, wondering how much Veritus knew.
‘I have seen the Black Templars’ data,’ the inquisitor said. ‘The witches, I would think, are key. Kill them, and you have your decapitation.’
Koorland sighed. Why did he think there was anything he knew that Veritus did not? ‘True,’ he said.
‘How will the Deathwatch destroy them?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said again. Dark laughter welled up from his chest. ‘Like you said, if this were the Great Crusade, we would have the means. Vulkan mentioned a special force — anti-psykers called Sisters of Silence — who would have been sent against the witches.’
‘The Sisters of Silence,’ said Veritus. ‘So named for the vow of silence. They were warriors of a particularly rare sort. They were psychic blanks. Their mere presence disrupted a psyker’s ability.’
‘You seem to know quite a bit about them.’
He wondered how. The archives of the Inquisition were deep, their memories long. But Veritus had the knowledge so easily at hand. Veritus nodded, but offered no explanation.
‘Such a force would be a gift from the Emperor,’ Koorland said. ‘If we could neutralise the greenskin psykers, then decapitation would be possible. But as you say, we have fallen since the days of the Great Crusade.’
Veritus was quiet for a long time. Then he said, ‘Not all have fallen.’
‘Who hasn’t?’
‘The Sisters of Silence.’
‘They still exist?’
Veritus nodded. ‘I believe so. Some.’
Where? Koorland tried to say. His tongue refused to obey him. The silence he had confronted since Ullanor rushed towards him, and it was not the thing he had believed. It was not the judgement of the past. It was the presence of fate.
‘Where?’ he managed, speaking not to Veritus, but to the silence.
‘Do you believe him?’ Thane asked.
‘Do we have a choice?’ Koorland replied.
They were in Thane’s quarters, in the small office outside his meditation cell. There were the bare necessities for command — a desk, two chairs, a vox-unit. A stained-glass portrait of Dorn covered the lone window.
The warriors of the Last Wall were stationed in the Imperial Fists barracks at the base of Daylight Wall. There were too many empty cells, Koorland thought. Too many reminders of compounded loss. At least some were occupied.
‘He hasn’t given us much to go on,’ said Thane.
‘I don’t think he has much more.’
Thane shook his head. ‘The Inquisitorial Representative is urging you to seek a myth, using a few uncertain clues as a guide. This really was Veritus?’
‘And he wishes to accompany you.’
‘How reassuring. He…’ Thane stopped. ‘Me?’ he said.
‘This won’t be the only Deathwatch mission,’ said Koorland. ‘We can’t attack Ullanor yet, but there are other targets that will make a difference. Mine is the ultimate responsibility and command for the whole. I must remain here. So yes, you and Squad Gladius.’
Thane frowned. He drummed his fingers on the desk. ‘I will do as you command, of course,’ he said.
‘But you have another concern.’
‘As Chapter Master of the Fists Exemplar, yes.’
‘What is it?’
‘I have repeatedly ordered the return of the rest of the fleet. Especially after our losses, we need the reinforcement to fulfil our duty of defence of Terra.’
‘Spoken like a true son of Dorn,’ said Koorland.
‘I ask to be nothing else.’
‘Repeated orders, you said?’
Thane nodded. ‘Most recently just before we departed for the ork base.’ He picked up a parchment and presented it to Koorland.
‘Is that the response?’ Koorland asked as he took it.
‘No. It’s a message from the Adeptus Astra Telepathica confirming that there has been no response.’
‘You have had no news from them?’
‘Nothing more recent than what the Black Templars relayed.’
‘The worst may have befallen them.’
Thane nodded again.
‘That doesn’t satisfy you,’ said Koorland.
‘I have considered that possibility. It could well be the truth. I was cut off from that portion of the fleet, and there were Traitors in the field as well as orks. Even so. All the ships destroyed without being able to send a single message?’