Dark Apostle

'Never have I heard of such willingness by the Mechanicus to throw its tech-guard at an enemy, but one threatening one of the Forge Worlds. You can understand my… confusion, magos.'

'The Adeptus Mechanicus supports the armies of the Emperor in all endeavours, Brigadier-General Ishmael Havorn. The Adeptus Mechanicus wishes to support the battle against the enemy on this planet c6.7.32.'

'Yes, as you have said, magos. I just wish to the Emperor that I knew why.'

'To many within the Cult Mechanicus, the Emperor of Terra and the Omnissiah are one. They would say that the Imperial Guard and the regiments of Mars enact his will equally.'

The image of Havorn raised its eyebrow at a figure off-screen.

'It is usual for brothers in arms to share pertinent information regarding their purpose.'

'The Adeptus Mechanicus wishes to support the battle against the enemy on this planet c6.7.32. That is the purpose of this expedition force.'

'Expedition force? This is a war zone!'

'You are correct, Brigadier-General Ishmael Havorn. Your voice has risen by 1.045 octaves, and my logarithmic codifier indicates that your volume has increased by 37.854 Imperial standard decibels. Are you unwell, Brigadier-General Ishmael Havorn?'

'What?' asked the Imperial commander.

'Your voice has risen by—' began Darioq before he was interrupted.

'Emperor above!' exclaimed Havorn.

'The mnemo strands within my logic engines suggest that some savage cultures within the Imperium believe that the Emperor does exist beyond the atmosphere of their home world. Do you believe this, Brigadier-General Ishmael Havorn? Is that why you speak the words "Emperor above"?'

'Are you attempting a joke, magos? I thought such a thing was beyond one such as you.'

'I do not understand the concept of humour, Brigadier-General Ishmael Havorn. My memory functions contain the information pertaining to the notion, but I have erased my memories of such a notion as inconsequential to the Omnissiah.'

The image of Havorn stared fixedly at the inscrutable visage of Darioq. The magos waited patiently for the Elysian commander to speak once more.

'Move the Exemplis to the front line. We attack before dawn,' he said, and cut the connection.

Darioq removed his mechadendrites from the command pillar and the image of Havorn, frozen in a scowl when the Elysian severed the connection, disappeared. A ghostly after-image remained for a second before it too faded.

He stood motionless for a moment, his brains alight with sparks of thought. For a few moments the eyelid of his weak, organic flesh-eye flickered as he accessed information stored deep within one subsidiary cortex, and he plunged the blade of the electro-jack on the tip of one of his mechadendrites back into the column.

Another green-lined image sprang up, hovering above the surface of the command column. It showed the rotating sphere of a planet, a stark, rocky and lifeless world. Polar ice-flows spread out across much of the land. Temperature indicators marked the planet as being far below a temperature that was able to sustain life. A light flashed beneath the hovering image of the planet. It was a date, in standard Imperial time, and it indicated that this was the representation of a planet almost two thousand years in the past.

With a twist of his mechadendrite, Darioq caused a second planet to be projected alongside the first. This was a world dominated by water, seas covering the length and breadth of the sphere, but two continent. With a further twist, Darioq brought the two glowing planets together, so that they overlapped each other perfectly. The mountains of the two images locked together like pieces of a puzzle. They were a perfect, identical match.

He rotated the overlapping spheres and magnified the image tenfold, zooming in on the north-western tip of the larger continent. The mountain plateau above the sea level rose to a point and then dropped off beneath the oceans. The cliff faces were almost sheer and fell into a series of deep undersea valleys, thousands of metres beneath the ocean. He zoomed closer, focusing on one particularly deep, abyssal chasm.

He abruptly retracted his mechadendrite and the green, three-dimensional depiction disappeared. Only the after image of the overlapping planets remained for a fraction of a second, along with a small line of digits beneath the spheres: c6.7.32. A moment later, they too faded.

It was almost midday, though it may as well have been midnight for all the light that penetrated the thick, roiling, black storm clouds. Torrential, blinding rain still lashed the high peaks of the mountains, and ravines and cracks were flooded with streaming water. In the valley below, vast moving rivers of water cut across the landscape, seeking the lower ground of the surrounding flat lands. Even the highly attuned sensors of the Word Bearers were becoming blocked by the high amount of water and electricity that coursed through the air.