The Horus Heresy: Vengeful Spirit

Vitus Salicar interrupted the Lord Admiral before he could continue. ‘It would be a mistake to think that just because you outnumber the Warmaster’s fleet, you hold the upper hand. Legion void-war is a savage, merciless thing.’

Semper bowed to the Blood Angel and said, ‘I know full well how dangerous the Space Marines are, captain.’

‘You don’t,’ said Salicar sadly. ‘We are killers, reapers of flesh. You must never forget that.’

Before the Lord Admiral could respond to the Blood Angel’s melancholic tone, Raeven said, ‘How soon will the enemy be here?’

Visibly struggling to contain his temper in the face of Salicar’s dismissal of his fleet’s capabilities, Semper spoke slowly and carefully.

‘The Master of Astropaths’ best estimate is a real space breach any day now, putting them within reach of Molech in around two weeks. I’ve already issued a muster order to pull our picket ships back from the system’s edge.’

‘You won’t engage the traitors in open space?’

‘Since I am not in the habit of throwing away the lives of my crews, no, I will not,’ said Semper. ‘As Captain Salicar helpfully pointed out, the warships of the Space Marines are not to be underestimated, so our best course of action is to dispatch a provocateur force to goad the traitors onto the horns of our orbital guns. Our main fleet will remain within the umbra of the orbital batteries on the Karman line. Between the hammer and anvil of our static guns and the warfleet, we can gut the traitor ships before they can land so much as a single warrior.’

Despite his bombastic tone, Raeven liked the cut of Semper’s jib and nodded.

‘Do it, Lord Admiral,’ he said. ‘Dispatch the provocateur force and wish them good hunting.’

4

The cell had no furniture, not even a bed. A thin mattress lay folded in one corner, together with a chipped night-soil pot and a small box, like a presentation case for a medal.

‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost,’ said Mersadie, rising from her kneeling position.

Loken’s mouth opened, but no sounds came out.

This was the second dead person he’d seen, but this one was flesh and blood. She was here. Mersadie Oliton, his personal remembrancer.

She was alive. Here. Now.

She wasn’t the same though. The harsh light revealed faded scars tracing looping arcs over the sides and upper surfaces of her diminished skull. Surgical scars. Excisions.

She saw him looking and said, ‘They took out my embedded memory coils. All the images and all the remembrances I’d stored. All gone. All I have left of them are my organic memories and even they’re beginning to fade.’

‘I left you on the Vengeful Spirit,’ said Loken. ‘I thought you must be dead.’

‘I would be if it wasn’t for Iacton,’ replied Mersadie.

‘Iacton? Iacton Qruze?’

‘Yes. He saved us from the murder of the remembrancers and got us off the ship,’ said Mersadie. ‘He didn’t tell you?’

‘No,’ said Loken. ‘He didn’t.’

‘We escaped with Iacton and Captain Garro.’

‘You were on the Eisenstein?’ said Loken, disbelief and wonder competing for his full attention. Qruze had said little of the perilous journey from Isstvan, but neglecting to mention Mersadie’s survival beggared belief.

‘And I wasn’t the only one Iacton saved.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Euphrati got off the Vengeful Spirit, Kyril too.’

‘Sindermann and Keeler are alive?’

Mersadie nodded. ‘As far as I know, but before you ask, I don’t know where they are. I haven’t seen either of them in years.’

Loken paced the interior of the cell, raw emotions surging like a chaotic tide within him. Sindermann had been a dear friend to him. A mentor of superlative intellect and a confidante of sorts, a bridge between trans-human sensibilities and mortal concerns. That Keeler had also survived was a miracle, for the imagist had a real knack for getting herself into trouble.

‘You didn’t know she was alive?’ asked Mersadie.

‘No,’ said Loken.

‘You’ve heard of the Saint?’

Loken shook his head. ‘No. What saint?’

‘You have been out of the loop, haven’t you?’

Loken paused, angry and confused. She was not to blame, but she was here. He wanted to lash out, but released a shuddering breath that seemed to expel a heavy weight of bilious humours.

‘I was dead, I think,’ he said at last. ‘For a while. Or as good as dead. Maybe I was just lost, so very lost.’

‘But you came back,’ said Mersadie, reaching out to take his hand. ‘They brought you back because you’re needed.’

‘So I’m told,’ said Loken wearily, curling his fingers around hers, careful not to squeeze too hard.

They stood unmoving, neither willing to break the silence or the shared intimacy. Her skin was soft, reminding Loken of a fleeting moment in his life. When he had been young and innocent, when he had loved and been loved in return. When he had been human.

Loken sighed and released Mersadie’s hand.

‘I have to get you out of here,’ he said.

‘You can’t,’ she said, withdrawing her hand.