'We were hoping you could tell us. It came from a hillside almost entirely composed of metal. According to the local populace and a survivor of the raid, this metal once ran like liquid and their smiths used it to fashion blades and ploughs. Though this practice had been going on for generations, the metal would somehow regenerate each shorn piece.'
Barzano's face paled visibly as he reached into the vessel and removed the fragment of faintly glowing metal. His eyes were wide as he traced his fingertips around the angular script carved in the metal.
Even as Uriel watched, the last of the glowing silver threads at the centre of the metal turned into the ruddy colour of rust and its lustre faded completely. Carefully, almost reverently, Barzano placed the metal on the desk and lifted his gaze to meet Uriel's. 'You said there was a survivor? I take it they are aboard the Vae Victus awaiting debriefing?'
'No. He was mortally wounded. I had Chaplain Clausel administer the Finis Rerum and we buried him in his home.'
Barzano struggled to contain his outrage at this valuable source of information being so casually squandered and simply nodded.
'Very well,' he managed finally, glancing at the locked strongbox his palm rested upon.
'Well?' prompted Uriel, pointing to the dead metal. 'What is it?'
Barzano drew himself up to his full height and said, 'This, my dear captain, is a fragment of wreckage from a starship more than one hundred million years old. It is also the reason we are here on Pavonis.'
'One hundred million years,' mused Leland Corteo. 'Surely that's impossible. Mankind only reached the stars less than fifty thousand years ago.'
'I did not say it was a human ship,' snapped Barzano.
'This has something to do with the troubles on Pavonis?' asked Mykola Shonai.
'I'm afraid so. Remember the deeper purpose I believed was behind your troubles? This is it. Someone on this planet is attempting to discover the whereabouts of the rest of this ship.'
'What could anyone hope to gain by its recovery?' asked Uriel.
'Power,' stated Barzano simply.
'Then if you know where it is, tell me the location and Vae Victus shall destroy it.'
'Ah, Uriel. If only it were that simple. It does not exist in this reality as we understand it. It drifts between time, forever flitting between this world and the immaterium. Would that it remain so for all eternity.'
'Why do you fear it so?'
Barzano lifted his hand from the locked strongbox, placing his thumb on the geno-key and crouched before the lock, allowing the box's guardian spirit to confirm his identity.
Finally, he punched in the thirteen-digit password into its lid and spoke the word of opening. The lid swung open and the inquisitor removed a heavy, iron-bound book with thirteen small golden padlocks securing its pages shut. The locks looked fragile, but each had been imbued with hexagrammic sigils of great power.
Barzano touched each lock in turn, whispering as though persuading the locks to grant access to the precious tome. One by one, the locks snicked open and Barzano straightened as the creaking cover of the book slowly opened without help from any human hand.
Uriel hissed and the others stepped back in alarm. Barzano took a deep breath and closed his eyes and Uriel felt a tinny, electric sensation pass through him. The book heaved, mirroring the inquisitor's breath and Uriel felt his hand involuntarily reach for his pistol. Sorcery!
Barzano extended his palm towards Uriel and shook his head.
'No, captain. I am entreating the spirit within the book to impart a measure of its knowledge to us.'
'Spirit within the book?' hissed Uriel.
'Yes. You have heard the expression that knowledge is power, yes? Did you think those were just empty words? Knowledge is indeed power, and knowledge has power.'
Seeing the book pulse like a beating heart, Uriel muttered a protective prayer. Suddenly he realised that there could only be one way that Barzano was, as he put it, entreating the book's spirit.
'You are a psyker?'
'Of sorts,' admitted Barzano, his brow knitted with the effort of speaking. 'I am an empath. I can sense strong emotions and feelings.'
The book suddenly seemed to swell and its pages fanned forwards as though in a strong wind, faster than the eye could follow. Abruptly, the book settled, its yellowed pages sighing and settling into immobility.
Barzano relaxed, opening his eyes and Uriel noticed beads of sweat on his brow. A trickle of blood ran from his nose, but he wiped it clear and leaned over the pages the book had revealed to him.
Hesitantly, Uriel, Pasanius, Shonai and Corteo approached the table.
At first Uriel could not understand what he was looking at. The pages had been scrawled by a crazed hand, hundreds of words overlapping and spinning in lunatic circles or viciously crossed out.
'What is it?' asked Shonai.
'These are some of the writings of the heretic tech-abbot, Corteswain.'
'And who was he?'
'Corteswain belonged to the Adeptus Mechanicus. He travelled the galaxy searching ancient archaeological sites for working STC systems. Instead he found madness.'
Uriel knew of the Adeptus Mechanicus's ceaseless quest for Standard Template Construct systems, techno-arcana priceless beyond imagining. Every single piece of Imperial technology was derived from the few, precious fragments of STC systems that remained in the hands of the Adeptus Mechanicus. Even the flimsiest rumour of an STC's existence prompted whole fleets of Explorators to set off in search of this most valuable treasure.
Barzano continued his story. 'Corteswain was the only survivor of an expedition to a dead world, whose name has long since been lost, in search of STC arcana. Something attacked his expedition and he claimed to have been taken to a world beyond this galaxy by a being of unimaginable power he called a god.'
'A god?' whispered Shonai
'Yes, a god. He claimed to have seen the true face of the Omnissiah, the Machine God. Needless to say, this didn't make him particularly popular within some factions of the Adeptus Mechanicus, who accused him of blasphemy. It caused a schism in their ranks that exists even today and within a year Corteswain disappeared from the omniastery on Selethoth where he had begun preaching his dogma.'
'What happened to him?' asked Uriel.
Barzano shrugged. 'I don't know. 'His rivals probably had him abducted and killed. But some of his writings survived, carried from the omniastery by his acolytes.'
'What does it mean? I can hardly make anything out,' said Shonai, slipping on her glasses.
'This particular passage talks of a vessel Corteswain claims he saw,' said Barzano, pointing out a barely legible scrawl in the corner of one page.
His fingers traced the outline of a badly sketched crescent with a pyramid shape sitting atop its middle.
Uriel squinted as he tried to read the words scratched into the parchment below the sketch. The same words were written again and again, at every angle, overlapping and curling back on themselves.
His eyes followed the least obscured portion of the spidery writing and he silently mouthed the words as he slowly pieced them together.
He finally grasped what the words said and the hairs on the back of his neck rose as he realised he had heard them before - from the burned lips of a man on the brink of death.
Bringer of Darkness.
Barzano glanced sharply at him and Uriel was reminded that the inquisitor could sense his emotions.
'Uriel,' said Barzano slowly. 'Do those words mean anything to you?'
Uriel nodded. 'Yes. The survivor on Caernus IV, a man named Gedrik, spoke them to me just before he died.'
'What did he say? Quickly!' hissed Barzano.
'He said that the Death of Worlds and the Bringer of Darkness awaited to be born into the galaxy and that it would be in my hands to decide which. Do you know what he meant by that?'