Nemesis

had to be one person in the Sentine who would fight this explanation, or else it would

seem false. But now you’ve ruined that. I’ll have to compensate.”

At last, understanding dawned on the other man’s face. “You. You did this.”

“I did it all,” Spear chuckled. He let his face shift and transform, his eyes become

black and dark. “I did it all,” he repeated.

The blood drained from Segan’s face as Spear came closer, letting the change

happen slowly. With trembling fingers, the reeve pulled something shiny and gold

from inside his cuff and clung to it, as if it were the key to a door that would spirit

him away from the horror all around him. The dour little man was pinned to the spot,

transfixed with fright.

“The Emperor protects,” Segan said aloud. “The Emperor protects.”

Spear opened his spiked jaws. “He really doesn’t,” said the murderer.

The distant hum-and-crack of mortar shells could be heard on the Ultio’s flight deck,

through the opened vents in the canopy that let in wet, grimy air.

Koyne’s encrypted report, burst-transmitted via tight-beam vox, had reached

them just after sunset and confirmed Tariel’s worst fears. The mission was over

before it had even begun. He said as much to Kell and the others, earning himself a

feral snarl from the Garantine.

“Weakling,” growled the Eversor. “You’re gutless. Afraid to get your robes dirty

in the field!” The hulking killer leaned towards him, looming. He had his mask off,

and his scarred, broken face was if anything more ugly than the metal skull. “Mission

circumstances always change. But we adapt and burn through!”

“Burn through,” repeated the Vanus. “Perhaps you misunderstood the meaning of

Koyne’s report? Did the larger words confuse you?”

The Garantine rose to his feet, eyes narrowing. “Say that again, piss-streak. I dare

you.”

“This war is over!” Tariel almost shouted it. “Dagonet is as good as conquered!

Horus has won this world, don’t you see?”

128

“Horus has not even set foot on Dagonet,” countered Soalm.

He rounded on her. “Exactly! The Warmaster is not even here, and yet still he is

here!”

“Make him speak sense,” the Eversor said to Kell, “or I’ll cut out his tongue.”

“It’s not Horus,” Kell explained. “It’s what he represents.”

Tariel nodded sharply. “The turncoat nobility on this planet don’t need to see

Horus. His influence hangs over Dagonet like an eclipse blotting out the sun. They’re

fighting in his name in fear of him, and that is enough. And when they win, the

Warmaster’s work will be done for him. This same thing is happening all across the

galaxy, on every world too far from the Emperor and the rule of Terra.” He trembled

a little with the sudden frustration he felt deep inside him. “When Dagonet falls,

Horus will turn his face from this place and move on, his advance one step closer to

the gates of the Imperial Palace…”

“Horus will not come to Dagonet,” said Soalm, catching on. “He will have no

need to.”

The infocyte nodded again. “And everything we’ve prepared for, the whole

purpose of this mission, will be worthless.”

“We’ll lose our chance to kill him,” said Kell.

“Aye,” snapped Tariel, and he shot the Garantine a glare. “Do you see now?”

The Eversor’s expression shifted; and after a moment, he nodded. “Then, we

must make sure he does come to Dagonet.”

Soalm folded her arms. “How do you propose to do that? Once this planet’s

Governor makes his allegiance known to the insurrectionists, perhaps the Warmaster

may send some delegate to plant the flag, but no more than a starship admiral or

some such. He won’t waste a single Space Marine’s time on matters of dispensation.”

The Garantine grunted with callous humour. “You all think I’m the slow one

here, don’t you? But you miss the obvious answer, woman. If Horus won’t come to a

fight that has ended, then we make sure the fight does not end.”

“Deliberately prolong the civil war.” Kell said the words without weight.

“We draw him to us,” said the Eversor, warming to his theme, showing teeth.

“We make the taking of Dagonet such a thorn in his side that he has no choice but to

come here and deal with it himself.”

Tariel considered the idea; it was blunt and crude, but it had merit. And it could

work. “Dagonet has a personal resonance with the Warmaster. It was the site of one

of his very first victories. That, and its strategic value… It could be enough. It would

be a dishonour for him to let this planet slip from his control.” Hearing footsteps

across the deck, he glanced up to see Iota step on to the flight deck; behind her was a

man he did not recognise in a PDF uniform.

“Relax, Vanus,” said the man, in a cynical tone that could only be Koyne’s. “I

take it you found my report to be compelling reading. So; what have we missed?”

“You exfiltrated without any complications?” said Kell.

Iota nodded. “What is the local time?”