'Only the Emperor can grant eternal and unbounded absolution/ the scribe murmurs behind me.
You all know my promise/ the Colonel says, the first words he's uttered to me since we left the shuttle hangar. 'I give you a last chance. If you die in my service, you have earned the right for absolution. It means a number of things; it is not just sophistry. Your name can be entered into the Imperial annals as serving the Emperor and doing your duty. If we know who they are, your children will be cared for by the Schola Progenium; your families will be contacted and told the manner of your death/
And if you don't die?' I ask, suddenly worried.
'Everybody dies, lieutenant/ the clerk says quietly from behind me. I whirl around and glare at him. 'Sooner or later/ he adds, completely unfazed. I turn back to the Colonel, about to demand why he wants us all dead, but he speaks first.
That will be all, Lieutenant Kage/ he says, no hint of emotion at all. I snap my mouth shut and salute, fuming inside. 'Clericus Amadiel here will summon an armsman to return you to your men/ the Colonel finishes, indicating the door with an open hand and a slight tilt of the head.
The sound of the constant bombardment was dull and muffled inside the command centre, reduced to a distant thudding. Inside die operations room everything was organised chaos as scribes and logisticians scurried to and fro carrying information detailing the latest enemy offensive. In the centre of the room, amid banks of dials and tactical displays, a hololithic projector showed a schematic diagram of the fortress, red blinking icons indicating the positions of enemy formations. Blue symbols represented the defenders, mustering to their places to fend off the assault. Two officers stood beside the hololith, resplendent in their deep blue frock coats and gold braiding. One, with the five studs of a commander-general on his epaulettes, pointed to an area to the south west.
'This looks like a diversionary attack/ he commented to his fellow officer, whose rank markings showed him to be a captain. 'Bring Epsilon Brigade back to the west wall, and push forward with the 23 rd along their flank.'
The captain called over a scribe with a wave of his hand and passed on the order in clipped tones. He turned back to his grey-haired superior, his face a picture of worry.
'How can we continue to fight, sir?' he asked, fingers tapping nervously on the golden hilt of the sword hanging against his left thigh. They seem to have limitless numbers, and are willing to throw in diousands just to test our reactions/
'Don't worry, Jonathan/ the commander-general assured him. 'Help is on die way, and when it arrives we shall be safe/
'And what of the other problem?' the captain inquired in an agitated fashion, voice dropping to a terse whisper. 'What of the enemy within?'
There is only one of them/ the commander-general replied in the same hushed tones. They will be caught and removed, and the small threat will pass. Nodiing is going to stop us now/
FOUR
TREACHERY
+++ Operation Harvest entering Final Stage. What is status of Operation New Sun. +++
+++ New Sun entering pivotal phase. Operation Harvest must be completed as soon as possible, time is short. +++
+++ Will make all speed for New Sun location.
+++
I've never seen the Colonel so angry before. I thought I'd seen him get mad, but that was just mild annoyance compared with his current performance. His eyes are so hard they could chip rockcrete and his skin is almost white, his jaw is clenched so tight I can see the muscles twitching in his cheeks. Captain Ferrin isn't all that happy either. The ship's commander is flushed and sweating, scowling at the Colonel. And there's me, caught in the middle of it. I'd just been reporting the latest weapons stock check to the Colonel when the captain came in and told him we were altering course to respond to a general alarm call. The Colonel told him flat that they weren't going anywhere and to bring us back on to our original heading, and then things started getting ugly.
'You know my standing orders, Colonel Schaeffer/ hisses the captain, leaning on the front of the Colonel's desk with balled fists, his thick shoulders level with his chin.
'May I remind you that this vessel has been seconded to me for transportation, captain/ Schaeffer spits back, standing up from his big chair and pacing to look out of the viewport.
'It is a high treason offence not to respond to a general alarm signal/ the captain barks at his back. There is no over-riding situation or a countermanding order from a superior officer.'
This vessel is at my disposal/ the Colonel says quiedy and that's when I know things are getting really dangerous. The Colonel's one of those men whose voice gets quieter the nearer to going over the edge he is. 'I am giving you a countermanding order, captain.'
'I am still the most senior officer on this vessel, colonel/ the captain tells him, pulling himself up stiffly, clenching and unclenching his fists behind his back. "This is naval jurisdiction. / am in command of this ship/
'I have the highest authority! You know what I am talking about, captain!' yells the Colonel, spinning on his heel to confront Ferrin. 'I am giving you a direct order, with all of that authority behind it. You will return us to our original course for Typhos Prime!'
Your authority does not extend to over-ruling the Naval Articles of War, colonel/ the captain says with a shake of his head. 'After we have reported for duty at Kragmeer, I will reconsider. That is my final word on the matter. If you don't like it, you can get out of the nearest airlock and make your own way!'
With that the captain storms out of the study, the heavy door slamming shut behind him. I can't shake the image of the Colonel lining us up and marching us out of an airlock, like Ferrin suggested. He's probably mad enough to do it. The Colonel looks as if he's going to go after Captain Ferrin for a moment before he pulls himself up short. He takes a deep breath, straightens his greatcoat and then turns to me.
'What do we have in the way of cold weather equipment, Kage?' he asks suddenly. I hesitate, taken aback, and he points to the dataslab with the inventory on it in my hand.
'I- er, what for?' I stammer back, regretting it instandy when he glowers at me.
'Get out, Kage!' he snaps at me, snatching the dataslab from my hand and waving me away with it. I give a hurried salute and bolt for the door, glad to be out of the Colonel's sight while he's in this murderous mood.
Another two weeks of warp-dreams end when we drop into the Kragmeer system. We're here to fight orks, the Colonel tells me. On an ice world, unfortunately. Locked in a permanent ice age, Kragmeer is one huge tundra, scoured by snow storms and covered in glaciers and jagged mountains. Fighting orks is bad enough, but fighting them in those harsh conditions is going to be damn near impossible. I've fought orks before, when a group of slavers tried raiding the world I was garrisoned on before I became a Last Chancer. They're huge green monsters, not much taller man a man because they stoop constantly, but really broad and muscular, with long, ape-like arms. They could bite your head off with their massive jaws and they have sharp claws too. They've also got pretty good guns, though their armour usually isn't worth a damn.
Then again, they don't need much armour; they can survive injuries that would cripple or kill a human. I don't know how they do it, but they hardly bleed at all, they don't seem to register pain very much and they can be patched, bolted and stapled back together in the crudest fashion and still fight with almost full effectiveness. I've seen warriors with rough and ready bionics, huge hissing pistons in their arms or legs, actually making them sttonger, with guns or slashing blades built into the limb. No mistakes, even a few orks are bad news, and apparendy a few thousand dropped onto Kragmeer several weeks ago.