Deliverance Lost

Pelon had managed to procure a few paints and brushes from the ship’s stores, not enough to liven up the whole chamber but sufficient to add some colour to the plain furnishings and the bare tin plates and cups he had taken from the mess. The Raven Guard seemed to revel in their austerity, he had decided, embracing the harsh conditions of their home on Deliverance instead of celebrating the luxuries and frivolities that should have come with compliance. The manservant had never thought he would miss those endless corridors of the old mines, or the empty vistas through the windows, but since coming on board the Avengerhe had come to see the time he had spent on the dusty moon as comparative opulence.

He heard the outer door hissing open and finished his fussing around the small table he had set out for the praefector’s supper. Valerius came into the main chamber and sat down without comment, his eyes passing quickly over the carefully sliced protein slabs dusted with chemyrrh and orthal. The praefector lifted the dented metal cup, its edge painted with a fine line of red by Pelon, to his lips, but stopped before he took a sip. He lowered the cup to the table and finally looked at his manservant.

‘I miss wine,’ said Valerius. ‘A nice carafe of Mastillian red, a glass of bubbly Narinythe. For shame, I’d even settle for a sip of that stuff Prime Tribune Nathor rustled up on Hedda-Signis.’

Pelon said nothing. It was not his place to speak, but to listen. He had overstepped the mark before, back on Deliverance, and no end of trouble had come from it. With everything that had been going on – and he had overheard a lot from the Raven Guard and the crew about events that had taken place on Isstvan – he was happy to be safe and able to concentrate on his sole duty of providing for the praefector.

‘Mustn’t grumble, though, Pelon,’ said Valerius, as if his servant was the one who had voiced the lament. ‘Latest estimate says we’re just twelve days from translating into the Sol system. Though judging by their recent success rate, I’d not be surprised if the Navigators took twice that time. It’s exciting though, isn’t it? Terra, Pelon! Won’t that be something of remark?’

Pelon was not sure if he should reply or not. It was difficult sometimes to judge whether he was simply an ear for the praefector to speak into or if his master wanted to engage in conversation. Valerius did not continue, and had a look of expectation that suggested to Pelon that he was waiting for a reply of some kind.

‘I would have never have thought I would see such a thing, master,’ Pelon said dutifully. In truth, he had been exceptionally anxious about the upcoming stop at the centre of the Imperium. No doubt there would be all ma

‘You’re not wrong about that,’ said Valerius, plunging his fork into a piece of synth-squash that Pelon had artfully carved into a slim-petalled flower. An hour’s work was demolished in seconds by the praefector’s chewing. ‘There are lord-commanders of Therion who have not had the privilege.’

‘You seem to be of good mood today, master,’ said Pelon, sitting at the end of the bed as he dared to venture his opinion.

‘I have had a conclave with Corax and the Raven Guard commanders, Pelon,’ said Valerius, between mouthfuls of food. ‘I fear our stay on Terra will be short-lived. As soon as I can secure passage, I am to travel back to Therion to entreat further forces. With the losses the Legion has suffered, and the regrettable sacrifice of my own command, it is desired that I raise a new cohort to fight alongside Lord Corax against the traitors.’

‘It is good that he would entrust such a duty to you, master,’ said Pelon. He regretted his words as Valerius purposefully placed his knife and fork on the half-empty plate and turned a frown on the manservant.

‘Why ever would they not trust me?’

‘I was not speaking of you in particular, master,’ Pelon said hurriedly. ‘Trust has been in short supply of late, is all. Even I get wary glances from the crew as they see me about my business. Times such as these, it’s good the primarch has every faith in Therion to fight for the Emperor.’

‘Yes, you are right,’ said Valerius, resuming his meal. He smiled through the laborious mastication of a faux-grox fillet, his words coming as a mumble. ‘It is quite an important duty. We’ll need every able man and woman who can carry a lasgun. It’ll be like the founding after compliance. Bigger even!’

The praefector finished his supper, washed it down with his recycled water and stood up.

‘Dark times, Pelon, but aren’t all great moments in history seeded in the dark?’ he said, kicking off his short boots and flopping onto the bed. ‘Nobody remembers those who lived in times of joy and plenty.’

‘Indeed not, master,’ said Pelon, collecting up the dishes and cup. He stopped just before the door. ‘Will you need me for the next hour, master? I’ve got some time in the laundries, is all.’

‘No, I think I can be without you for an hour,’ said Valerius, sounding tired. Pelon glanced over his shoulder and saw the praefector’s eyes were closed, his chest already rising and falling gently. ‘Perhaps a little more salt next time,’ the praefector murmured, his voice trailing away into sleep.

‘As you say, master,’ Pelon said to himself with a smile of satisfaction, closing the door behind him.

ONE HUNDRED AND thirty-three days after departing from Isstvan, the Avengerfinally reached the Sol system, heart of the Imperium, birthplace of mankind.

On Corax’s orders, the ship came in and deployed its void shields immediately; it would be incautious to arrive without some form of protection but using the reflex shield had the potential to invite immediate suspicion.

The sensor reports were also flooding in, bringing with them a picture of a star system in considerable turmoil. Dozens of warships, haulers and transports were moving back and forth from the Lunar bases and Terra, navigating their way through layer after layer of minefields, orbital defence platforms and out-system heavy monitors. More still were arriving; there was not an hour that passed without at least two or three ships breaking from warp.

Word was spreading across the Imperium. The warp storms that had so hampered the Raven Guard on their journey also disrupted astrotelepathic communication. Even in the best of conditions it took many weeks, sometimes several months, for messages to be relayed from the heart of the Imperium to its outer reaches. Add to this the violence of the warp tempest and it could still be many months before some systems were even aware of the Warmaster’s treachery.

This was just the begi

After the standard delays in bringing the sca

It was clear from Noriz’s hails that unexpected visitors were not welcome.