‘Let’s hope the other one is undamaged,’ said Nestil, cutting to the right under the Thunderhawk’s wing.
‘Hope is a weakness,’ a voice called out from behind them. ‘It is the first step on the road to disappointment. If you were Raven Guard, you would know that.’
Solaro turned, drawing his weapons. A black-armoured figure stood at the edge of the landing pad. He had a lascannon held up to his shoulder, aimed at the Alpha Legionnaires, its cable snaking down to a power pack on the ground beside him. He stood with one foot on an octagonal box that had a thick metal grip-handle running around its circumference. Lights winked in sequence on a small display beside the Raven Guard’s foot.
‘It’s over,’ the figure called out. ‘You have no way of escaping. The Wrathful Vanguardand the Triumphare moving in to blockade the planet even as I speak.’
His surprise fading, Solaro recognised the voice.
‘Agapito? It’s me, Solaro! What are you doing?’ he called back.
‘You might have his face, but you are not the Solaro that I knew,’ said Agapito, the lascannon directed at the faux-commander. ‘The company you keep tells me that for sure.’
‘You’re making a mistake, Agapito,’ said Solaro, putting his pistol in its holster. ‘See? Don’t do anything rash.’
‘What do you mean about the company he keeps?’ said Ort, glancing at the other two Alpha Legionnaires.
‘I didn’t know about you, Ort, or whatever your name is. Unfortunately for you, your companions were not as thorough in hiding as they thought. Nestil, how did you recognise the Phalanx? The Raven Guard have never served in the same warzone as the Imperial Fists fortress. And Solaro, who else would have clearance to break my command codes and use my personal channel? It certainly wasn’t Branne or Aloni.’
‘You’re just one legionary,’ said Solaro. ‘What do you hope to achieve?’
‘You never fought for Deliverance, Solaro,’ said Agapito, tapping his foot on the box beneath his boot. He pointed the lascannon at the device. ‘But I’m surprised you don’t recognise an atomic charge when you see it. Five hundred kilotons: more than enough to wipe out Ravendelve and every traitor in it. You can’t escape with the gene-tech. I’ll level this whole place if you try.’
‘You won’t do that,’ said Nestil, taking a few steps back, bolter in both hands.
Solaro heard a distinct thrum and glanced over his shoulder. Twenty golden-armoured warriors were standing in the fog, power fields flickering along the blades of their halberds. The Custodian Guard were between the Alpha Legionnaires and the main gate.
‘How many more of you have turned? What did the traitors offer you?’ Agapito snarled. ‘What was the price the Warmaster placed on our primarch’s head?’
‘Our primarch?’ said Ort, with a laugh. ‘You know nothing of our p–’
Solaro lashed out with the power sword, slashing through the fool’s throat before he could say any more. The Alpha Legionnaire collapsed face-first to the ground, gasping his last bloody breath into the acid-tinged puddles.
‘Tell me!’ roared Agapito. ‘Tell me what you know and you will be granted quick deaths. If not, I am sure Lord Corax will make an exception to the ban on the Red Level. Even a legionary cannot endure the torments on offer there.’
Solaro looked at Nestil, and though they could not see each other’s faces, their subtle nods indicated they were in agreement.
‘What makes you think you can take us alive?’ Solaro snarled.
He lunged, thrusting his power sword through the heart of Nestil as the sergeant pulled the trigger and sent a bolt-round smashing through Solaro’s helm. The two of them fell into each other and twisted to the ground, locked together in death.
CAUGHT BETWEEN THE wall of Ravendelve and the advancing forces of the Mechanicum, the outnumbered guilder force was pushed back into the rad-wastes. Reinforcements from Deliverance harried the retreating foe, exacting revenge for those who had fallen, and the Imperial Fists under Captain Noriz lent their strength to that of the Raven Guard. The battle continued well into the night, the sky awash with explosions and las-fire. In the city, the arrival of the Titans of the Legio Vindictus halted the Order of the Dragon, though great swathes of the city were left as blasted wasteland, the rubble choked with the dead of both sides. The sky above Kiavahr was filled with the smoke of thousands of fires, blotting out the stars and moons. Mechanicum aircraft dropped incendiary bombs and plasma charges onto the guild houses where the Order of the Dragon held out, while the guns of the Legio pounded away with shell and las-blast.
Under the orders of Corax, Ravendelve was sealed, the warriors of the Raptors and the Custodians slaying several Raven Guard that tried to leave under the cover of the confusion. With the immediate threat to the gene-tech quashed, the primarch ordered Commander Branne to stand down the Avenger’storpedoes and arrived to oversee the aftermath.
He was met at the ruins of the main gate by Agapito and Arcatus, with a bodyguard of loyal warriors standing ready to escort the primarch.
‘I want an explanation, commander, and I want it now,’ demanded Corax as he strode through the remnants of the gatehouse.
‘The situation is very confused, lord,’ said Agapito. ‘Ravendelve is secure from attack, but the threat within is uncertain. We tallied the dead from the fighting and have found more than thirty legionaries who do not appear on our records.’
‘Infiltrators,’ growled Corax. ‘Traitors wearing the colours of the Raven Guard.’
‘What of Solaro and the others?’ said Agapito. ‘Why would they turn against us?’
‘I am not so sure they did,’ said Arcatus. Agapito and Corax looked at the Custodian for explanation. ‘You have been the victims of a devious masquerade. My order understands intimately the means by which an intruder can enter an organisation unnoticed. It is our sole task to thwart such attempts. I believe there is only one Legion capable of such deception.’
‘The Alpha Legion,’ said Corax, growling again. ‘This treachery bears their hallmark.’
‘We shared air with Solaro for a long time. If he and the others were Alpha Legion in disguise, how can we say for certain that any of the others are loyal?’ said Agapito.
It was a tricky problem, but Corax knew the answer almost immediately.
‘My true sons will bear my mark,’ said the primarch. They had reached the main hall, where the remaining Raven Guard had handed over their weapons and were being watched over by Custodians and first generation Raptors. ‘My genetic data is wrapped up inside every cell of your bodies, while any infiltrators will bear the code of another primarch. Have Vincente Sixx screen every legionary for genetic markers that do not match the Raven Guard gene-seed.’
‘Sixx is dead, lord,’ said Agapito. ‘He died defending the gene-project.’
‘What of Orlandriaz?’ said Corax. ‘Has he survived?’
‘He is in the infirmary, working out what damage has been done by the traitors,’ replied Agapito.
‘You cannot expect to continue with this project?’ said Arcatus. ‘Not after what we have witnessed here? We barely stopped the traitors escaping with the genetic material. It is too much of a risk, I cannot allow it.’
Corax stopped, stung by the Custodian’s words. He looked at the ring of Raptors in their combat-scarred armour, standing guard over their battle-brothers without hesitation or complaint.
‘What about those Raptors who have suffered from our mistakes?’ said Corax. ‘Do we condemn them to their sorry existence?’
‘Spare them the pain,’ said Arcatus. ‘Each of them contains the seed of what you have done here, and perhaps locked within their twisted bodies is the means to achieve what you hoped. They are just as much a threat as the data contained in the gene-vault.’