Deliverance Lost

He knew where that place was.

CORAX REALISED HIS eyes were closed and opened them. The Emperor was watching him, waiting patiently for his son to explore the gift he had given him.

‘You have given me the secrets of the primarch project?’ said Corax, his voice a whisper of amazement.

‘The parts that were relevant to the creation of the Legions, yes,’ said the Emperor. He did not smile. ‘I must return to the webway, my absence will be sorely missed. That is all the help I can offer you.’

‘The webway?’

‘A portal into the warp, of sorts,’ said the Emperor. ‘This is my great endeavour. Beyond the veil of reality, the forces of the Imperium wage war with a foe just as deadly as the Legions of Horus. Daemons.’

Corax knew the word, but did not understand why the Emperor had used it.

‘Daemons?’ said Corax. ‘Insubstantial creatures of nightmare? I thought they were a fiction.’

‘No, in truth they do exist,’ said the Emperor. ‘The warp, the other-realm we use to travel, is their home, their world. Horus’s treachery is greater than you imagine. He has aligned himself to the powers of the warp, the so-called “Gods of Chaos”. The daemons are now his allies and they seek to breach the Imperial Palace from within. My warriors fight to hold back the incursion, lest Terra be overrun with a tide of Chaos.’

‘I still do not understand,’ admitted Corax.

‘You do not have to,’ said the Emperor. ‘Know only that my time is scarce and my power bent towards securing our ultimate victory over these immaterial foes. It is to you, and your brothers who have remained true to their oaths, that the physical defence of the Imperium must fall. I have shown you the way by which the Raven Guard might rise from the ashes of their destruction and again fight for mankind.’

‘It is an incredible gift,’ said Corax, ‘but even with this I am not sure what you intend for me to do.’

‘I have already informed Malcador of my intent and he gathers such aides and companions as you will need to recover the gene-tech,’ said the Emperor. ‘You asked me for help, but now you must help yourself. Rebuild the Raven Guard. Strike down the traitors and let them know that my will shall still be done.’

‘Yes, I shall,’ said Corax, bowing his head and lowering to one knee. ‘The Raven Guard will rise from the grave of defeat and bring you victory.’

‘I not only give you the gift of these memories and this technology, I place upon you the burden of its protection. You will have the power to create armies as I once did, and that in itself would be reason enough to jealously guard its existence. More than that, the gene-store contains the means to destroy what it created. That which I bound within the fibre of every Space Marine can be undone, unravelling their strength and purpose at a stroke.’

‘I understand,’ said Corax. ‘I will defend it with my life.’

‘No, you must swear more than that, Corvus,’ said the Emperor, his voice becoming aggressive, his words sending a surge of energy through Corax. ‘Swear to me that should our enemies learn of its existence, you will destroy it, and everything created by it. It is too dangerous to keep if there is even the possibility that Horus might take it. With its power he could unleash devastation even greater than you can imagine, and raise up such a force that no defence Rogal might build could withstand it. Swear that oath to me.’

‘I swear, as your son and servant,’ said Corax, trembling with the ferocity of the Emperor’s demanding voice.

‘Even if it means the destruction of the Raven Guard and all that you have striven to build?’ The Emperor’s words were like an implacable storm, pushing into Corax’s mind, demanding obedience.

‘Even so.’

The Emperor turned away and walked back towards the Golden Throne. The light consumed him once more, burning through his flesh, his robes forming the hard edges of armour. He stopped just before the throne and looked back at Corax.

‘One other thing, my son,’ he said, calmly and slowly. ‘The gene-tech is protected. Only I can deactivate the defences in person, but I ca

Corax said nothing as an aura of golden light surrounded the Emperor, lifting him up to the seat of the Golden Throne. The Master of Mankind grew in stature once more, as armoured plates slid into place and his form was again encased in the golden aegis that Corax had seen on many battlefields.

The Emperor closed his eyes and with a pulse of energy that rocked the whole chamber, sparks flew and psychic energy danced, embroiling the seated figure in a storm of power.

CORAX CAME TO his senses, lying on a marbled floor with Dorn and Malcador bent over him, still not sure he believed what had passed. The memories were there, embedded in his brain, like a vault of treasures to be unlocked, and he clung to them as proof of the Emperor’s will.

‘Thank you, father,’ Corax said. He looked up at Malcador, who nodded in understanding.

‘You have been set a difficult task, Corax,’ said the Sigillite. ‘We should begin your preparations.’

STEAM AND OTHER vapours filled the sub-level chamber with distorting clouds and whorls of gas. The thump of heavy machinery made the whole basement shudder every few seconds, setting the cable bundles on the wall rattling and sending the glow-globes circling in eccentric orbits about their hanging wires.

It was certainly not the most pleasant location for a lair, and by far one of the noisiest Omegon had ever inhabited, but it served its purpose well. Situated below the forges of the Wellmetal district of Kiavahr’s largest city, Nabrik, the four adjoining rooms occupied by the primarch of the Alpha Legion were at the heart of the old industrial complex from which the technocrats had ruled the world before the coming of the Emperor.

These days the furnace rooms and manufactories bore the symbols of the Mechanicum of Mars, but for thousands of years before their coming, Kiavahr had been a powerhouse of weapons manufacture and shipbuilding. The old tech-guilds had divided their planet’s resources between them and each taken to themselves rulership of Kiavahr, trading very successfully with the few neighbouring systems that had been within reach during Old Night.

It had been a blow to the prestige of the tech-guild when Corax had led the rebellion of the mining colony of Lycaeus, Kiavahr’s largest moon; further insult had been added to this gratuitous injury when the Emperor had arrived and the tech-guilds had been sworn in as members of the Imperium. Had they known then that the Martians would dismantle their monopoly and re-order their society, the tech-guilds might have resisted further.

Omegon was pleased that they had not fought to the last. Enough of them remained alive, kept from death over the decades by inhuman augmentations and anti-ageing narcotics – many of them now illegal under the regime of the Mechanicum – that he had a ready core of resentment from which to recruit. He had been here for less than a hundred days and already he had established contact with three of the surviving tech-guild overseers. Progress had been swift, their agreement to cooperate in the liberation of Kiavahr quickly accomplished.

With the network of the Alpha Legion spreading across the forge-world, both in terms of Omegon’s own operatives and the agents of the tech-guilds, he was confident that the remaining five houses of the old rulers, those who had some surviving scion hidden away amongst the smoke and flames of the irradiated wastelands, would soon add their support.

Omegon had little interest in the freeing of Kiavahr from the Emperor’s clutches, except insomuch as it would inconvenience his enemies and prove to be the downfall of Corax. Though the Kiavahrans measured themselves amongst the highest in terms of technical accomplishment, they were in truth of only average ability and output in comparison to many of the Mechanicum’s forge-worlds. The primarch was ever quick to further inflate the bloated self-esteem of the tech-guilders though, and with promises and veiled assertions he had led them to believe that once they had thrown off the yoke of Imperial tyra