Nemesis

‘They heard all right,’ said Grohl. He dropped the carryall on a crate being used as a makeshift table and threw off his robes with an irritable shake. ‘The Governor made a broadcast over all the communications channels. A declaration, he called it.’

The group fell silent. Kell saw the moment radiate out across the cavern to every person within earshot.

‘Let’s see it, then,’ said Capra.

Grohl opened the case and produced a memory spool, the commercial kind that any core world civilian home of moderate means possessed. ‘One of our contacts recorded this off the public watch-wire. It’s repeating in a loop at the top of each hour.’ Jedda went to take it from him, but Grohl didn’t give it up. ‘Perhaps you should look at this somewhere more… private.’

Capra considered that for a moment, then shook his head. ‘No. If it’s on the wire, then everyone else knows about it. Our people should too.’

Jedda took the spool and inserted it into a hololithic reader. With a buzzing hum, the device projected the ghostly image of a man in heavy dress uniform, a braided cap upon his head. He was standing before a lectern, and Kell noticed that it bore the sigil of an open, slitted eye; the symbol of the Sons of Horus.

‘Governor Nicran,’ said Jedda with a sneer. ‘I wonder where he recorded this? Cowering in the basement of his mansion?’

‘Quiet!’ hissed Grohl. ‘Listen.’

Kell watched the hololith carefully as the Governor began with empty pleasantries and vapid words of praise for his puppet masters in the noble clans. He read the politician’s expressions, for a moment imagining he was seeing that face down the sights of his Exitus longrifle. Nicran had all the look about him of a desperate man. Then he turned to the important part of the announcement.

‘Citizens of Dagonet,’ he said, ‘I have been gravely disturbed to learn of the deaths of many of our brave PDF troopers in the ongoing and ruthless attacks perpetrated by the resistance. Attacks that have also claimed the lives of many innocent civilians…’

‘Bollocks they have,’ snarled Jedda. ‘Clanner blood only!’

‘I applaud the vigilance of our troopers and recognise their bravery,’ Nicran continued. ‘But I also listen when their commanders tell me that the enemy hiding among us is a clear and present danger we have yet to overcome. And so, rather than prolong this terrible fighting and waste more precious Dagoneti lives, I have petitioned for assistance.’

‘What does that mean?’ muttered one of Jedda’s men. Kell kept his expression unchanged, aware that Koyne was watching him closely.

Across the chamber, a hush had fallen as everyone hung on Nicran’s words. ‘Centuries ago, when Dagonet was beneath the shadow of corrupt priest-kings, we faced a similar crisis. And then, as now, a warrior came to aid us. A master of war who freed us from fear and terror.

’ The Governor blinked and licked his lips; Kell felt an odd tingle of anticipation in his trigger finger. ‘Citizens, I have this day received word from the fleet of the Sons of Horus. They are coming to Dagonet to deliver us, and the great hero Horus Lupercal will be with them. Have no fear. The retribution of the Astartes will be swift and terrible, but in its wake the freedom we crave, freedom of liberty, freedom from the stifling rule of a distant and uncaring Emperor, will be ours.’

Grohl tapped a key on the projector and the image died. ‘And there it is.’

It was as if something had sucked all the air from the chamber; Nicran’s statement had shocked the rebels into silence.

Jedda spoke first. ‘Astartes…’ he whispered, all trace of his earlier elation gone. ‘Coming here?’ He looked to Capra. ‘We… We can’t fight Space Marines. Clan troopers are one thing, but the Warmaster’s elite…’