Nemesis

“These are your orders, brother-captain,” says the dark-hearted one. “Remove all

trace that we were ever here, and ensure that this vessel becomes lost to the void. I

will gather what we came for… and bring our new friend here into the bargain.” The

one called Erebus smiles again. “I think we will have use for him.”

As the other warrior departs, the master leans in. “Do you have a name?” he asks.

It has been a long time since he has spoken, and it takes a moment to form the

word; but finally he manages. “Spear.”

Erebus nods. “Your first lesson, then. I am your master.” Then the warrior is a

blur, and there is a blade in his hand, and then the blade is in Spear’s chest and the

pain is blinding, burning.

“I am your master,” Erebus says once again. “And from now on, you will kill

only who I tell you to kill.”

Spear reels back. He nods, giving his fealty. The pain fills him, fills the cage.

The pain and the cage…

154

The moment snapped like brittle glass and Spear jerked upright, his foot kicking out

and knocking over a chair. He scrambled to his feet, catching sight of his face in a

mirror. Hyssos’ aspect was pasty, like unfired clay. He grimaced and tried to

concentrate; but the encounter with the memory fragment and the flash of his past

had cut to his core. He was breathing hard, the daemonskin on his hands rippling

crimson.

“Operative?” Someone was knocking on his cabin door. “I heard a cry. Are you

all right in there?”

“I’m fine!” he shouted back. “It… I fell from my bed. It’s nothing.”

“You’re sure?” He recognised the voice now; it was one of the duty officers on

this deck. “Go away!” he snapped.

“Aye, sir,” said the officer, after a moment, and he heard footsteps recede.

Spear walked to the mirror and glared at Hyssos’ face as it resurfaced. “You can’t

stop me,” he told the reflection. “None of you can. None of you!”

In recognition of their help, the rebels had given all the members of the Execution

Force quarters in one of the smaller chambers off the main corridor. The rooms were

no bigger than holding cells, but they were dry and they had privacy, which was

more than could be said for many of the communal sleeping areas.

Soalm didn’t knock and wait outside her brother’s compartment; instead she

slammed the corroded metal door open and stormed into the room.

He looked up from the makeshift table before him, where the disassembled

components of his longrifle lay like an exploded technical diagram. Lines of bullets

were arranged in rows like tiny sentries on a parade ground. He stopped himself from

drawing his Exitus pistol and returned to the work of cleaning his firearm. “Where

are your manners, Jenniker?” he said.

She closed the door and folded her arms. “We’re doing this, then?” she said.

“We’re actually going to sacrifice all these people just to complete the mission?”

“What was your first clue?” he asked. “Was it when I told you that was our plan,

on board the Ultio? Or when Valdor made it exactly, precisely clear what our

objective was?”

“You’re manipulating Capra and his people,” she insisted.

“This is what we do,” said her brother. “Don’t pretend you’ve never done the

same thing to get close to a mark. Lied and cheated?”

“I’ve never put innocents in harm’s way. The whole motive for the Officio

Assassinorum is to move sightless and unseen, leave no trace but the corpse of our

target… But you’re cutting a road of blood for us to follow!”

“This isn’t the Great Crusade anymore, dear sister.” He put down his tools and

studied her. “Are you so naive that you don’t see that? We’re not thinning the ranks

of a few degenerate bohemian fops in the halls of some hive-world, or terminating a

troublesome xenos commander. We’re on the front lines of a civil war. The rules of

engagement are very different now.”

Soalm was quiet for a moment. It had been many years since she had seen

Eristede, and it made her sad to see how he had changed. She could only see the

155

worst of him behind those dark eyes. “It’s not just the resistance fighters whose lives

we are threatening. By keeping this conflict alive we will doom countless innocent

people, perhaps even threaten the future of this entire planet and the sector beyond.”

“Are you asking me if the death of Horus Lupercal is worth that price? That’s a

question you should put to Valdor or the Master of Assassins. I am only doing what I

was ordered to. Our duty is all that matters.”

She felt a surge of emotion in her chest and crashed it before it could become a

snarl or a sob. “How can you be so cold-blooded, Eristede? We are supposed to

protect the people of the Imperium, not offer them up as fodder for the cannons!”

Soalm shook her head. “I don’t know who you are.”

With a flash of anger, her brother bolted to his feet. “You don’t know me? I’m