Then there had been the incident in the hold during the boarding action. Baskevyl had told him all about it. It seemed likely they knew what ‘eagle stones’ were now. Bask’s theory, and the related accounts, had all been classified to be part of Gaunt’s formal report to high command. Now they were safe on Urdesh, the whole matter would be passed to the authorities, to people who knew what they were doing, not front-line grunts like him.
If the wretched things in the hold were the eagle stones, then they were apparently precious artefacts. It made sense that the accursed Anarch Sek would want them, and would try manipulation to get them. According to initial data, Sek was here on Urdesh, leading the enemy strengths. Well, you bastard. I’ve brought the stones to you, like you asked. You can leave me be now. Leave me and my children be. We’re not part of this any more.
‘Besides,’ he growled out loud at the rainy sky, ‘it’s been ten years.’
Kolea sighed.
He was high enough on the ship to see beyond the walls of the dock and out towards the city and the bay. It was a grey shape in the rain, a skyline dotted with lights. He didn’t know much about Urdesh, except that it was a forge world, and famous, and it produced good soldiers, some of whom he had fought alongside at Cirenholm. They hadn’t been the friendliest souls, but Kolea respected their military craft. The Urdeshi had been stubborn and proud, fighting for the spirit of this world, a world that had changed hands so many times and so often been a battleground. He got that. He understood the pride a man attached to his birth-hive.
It was a good view. A strong place. A landscape a man could connect with. Livy would have loved it, standing here in the rain, looking out…
‘Gol?’
He turned. Baskevyl was stepping out of the hatch to find him.
‘Where are we?’ asked Kolea.
‘About two-thirds discharged,’ replied Bask. ‘The Administratum has issued us with staging about ten kilometres away. The regiment and the retinue.’
‘Barrack housing?’ asked Kolea.
Baskevyl checked his data-slate. ‘No, residential habs.’
‘How so?’
‘Apparently the main Militarum camps are already full of troops waiting to ship out to the front line, but the city has been largely evacuated of civilians, so we’ve been assigned quarters in requisitioned hab blocks.’
‘Where is the front line?’ asked Kolea.
Baskevyl shrugged.
‘All right, let’s send some company leaders on ahead to check out the facilities. Criid, Kolosim, Pasha, Domor.’
‘Captain Criid, you mean?’ asked Bask.
‘Damn right. About time. Tell them to look the place over and draw up a decent dispersal order, so no one starts bickering about their billet. And let’s get Mkoll to sweep the venue and give us a security report.’
‘This isn’t the front line, I know that,’ Baskevyl smiled.
‘Never hurts,’ Kolea grinned back. ‘How many times have things changed overnight and bitten us on the arse?’
‘Gentlemen?’
They looked up from the data-slate as Commissar Fazekiel joined them. She pulled up the collar of her coat against the rain.
‘Medicae personnel have arrived to ship off our wounded. Those still not walking anyway.’
‘That’s not many is it?’ asked Kolea.
‘About a dozen. Raglon. Cant. Damn glad to have Daur back on his feet.’
‘Major Pasha too,’ said Kolea.
Fazekiel nodded. ‘I gather Spetnin and Zhukova are crestfallen. They were just getting used to running Pasha’s companies.’
‘What about the shipmaster?’ asked Baskevyl.
‘They’re moving him off to the Fleet infirmary at Eltath Watch,’ she said. ‘I’m frankly amazed the fether’s still alive.’
‘I’m amazed any of us are still alive,’ said Baskevyl.
‘There’s that,’ Fazekiel agreed. ‘Can you two spare a moment? We’ve got visitors, and I’d appreciate the moral support of some senior staff.’
‘Thoust leaving, soule?’ asked Ezra.
Sar Af glanced at him briefly, then finished instructing the servitor teams handling the equipment crates of the Adeptus Astartes. There was no sign in the hold of Eadwine or Holofurnace.
‘Good as gone,’ said Sar Af, walking over to Ezra once his instructions were given. ‘Duty is done, and I never stay put long.’
‘Gaunt, he will–’ Ezra began.
‘Eadwine sent him notice of our departure,’ said Sar Af. ‘We’ve tarried far too long on this mission. It was supposed to last six weeks.’
Ezra nodded.
‘Eadwine’s already gone,’ Sar Af added. ‘Gone to see the warmaster in person. The Snake’s left too. Apparently his brothers are engaged in the war here, and he’s gone to find them. He will be glad to see them again, and join with them in a new venture.’
‘And thee, soule?’ asked Ezra.
Sar Af grinned.
‘The Archenemy presses close,’ he said. ‘I smell killing to be done.’
He gestured at the reynbow strapped to Ezra’s shoulder.
‘Found your weapon, then?’
‘Broken, but I made mend of it,’ said Ezra.
‘Should get yourself a proper piece,’ said the White Scar. ‘Something that will stop a foe dead.’
‘This stops the foe,’ said Ezra.
Sar Af peered at him.
‘I’m not good at faces. Are you sad, Nihtgane?’
Ezra shook his head.
‘Uh, that’s good. Men can be too sentimental. They place unnecessary emotion on leave-taking and such. Parting is not an ending. Life is just the path ahead, so sometimes you leave things behind you.’
‘No sentiment,’ said Ezra. ‘It was a journey and we walked it.’
The White Scar nodded. With a twist, he uncoupled the lock of his right gauntlet and pulled the glove off to expose his bare hand.
‘That’s right, Nihtgane,’ he said. He held his hand out and Ezra clasped it.
‘Follow your path, Eszrah Ap Niht,’ Sar Af said. ‘Only you can walk it.’
He clamped his gauntlet back on, donned his war-helm with a hydraulic click, and followed the servitor team out of the hold without looking back.
‘You can show me the paperwork all you like,’ said Rawne, ‘S Company isn’t handing him over until I get word from my commanding officer.’
‘Your tone is borderline insolent, major,’ said Interrogator Sindre of the Ordo Hereticus. A heavy detail of Urdeshi storm troops filled the brig hatchway behind him.
‘Not for him,’ Varl told the interrogator. ‘There was definitely a silent “fething” before the word “paperwork”.’
Sindre had a very thin, pale face and very blue eyes. His black uniform was immaculate, unadorned except for the gold and ruby rosette on his back-turned lapel. He smiled. In the close, gloomy confines of the armoured brig, his soft voice sounded like a slow gas leak.
‘I appreciate the seriousness with which you uphold your duties, major,’ he said. ‘Custody of the prisoner is an alpha-rated duty. You are commended. But crusade high staff and the office of the ordos have agreed to his immediate transfer to secure Inquisition holding. The order was ratified by two lords militant and the senior secretary of the Inquisition here on Urdesh six hours before you even touched down.’
‘Gaunt didn’t signal anyone that the prisoner was still with us,’ said Rawne. He spoke slowly and sounded reasonable. His men knew that was always a warning sign. ‘I know for a fact,’ he said, ‘that the information he broadcast on approach in-system was extremely limited and contained no confidential information.’