Clearly, Governor Barbaden was not a man given to ostentation. That was a nugget of information to store for later and Uriel wondered what manner of man the Imperial Commander was.
He was certainly not liked, if the people on the streets of his city were anything to go by.
They were a handsome, tall people dressed, almost uniformly, in ash-grey coveralls and long cloaks.
The people hugged the buildings as the Chimeras rushed past, and Uriel saw the same sullen hostility in their eyes that he had seen on the faces of the Guardsmen in the Chimera.
The Falcatas victory in claiming this world as their own had obviously left scars: scars that had not yet healed.
Everywhere Uriel looked, he saw evidence of the peoples' cannibalisation of what the Imperial Guard had discarded: market stalls formed from the beaten sheet metal of tank hulls, carts and wagons dragged on wheels scavenged from supply trucks and barrows with handles fashioned from exhaust pipes.
Colonel Kain's column was travelling rapidly through the streets, taking sharp, veering turns at random.
'She's not taking any chances on a second ambush,' noted Pasanius, giving voice to Uriel's thought and gripping the edge of the Chimera as it skidded around another corner.
Uriel looked at the naked hostility that burned from every face.
'I don't blame her,' he said.
The Screaming Eagles' journey through the strange streets of Barbadus continued for another ten minutes, ten long minutes during which Uriel expected a shot or streaking missile with every breath. No such violence was unleashed, and each turn took them deeper into the warren of streets and further from the Imperial palace.
Eventually, the Chimeras increased speed as they surged towards a walled compound set apart from the buildings around it. Uriel had noticed the buildings becoming more widely spaced and less complete for a few moments, but only as they passed out into the open did he see why.
Rolled coils of barbed wire surrounded the compound and squat, unlovely bunkers of sandbags and timber flanked the heavy iron gate. A bronze eagle was stamped across both sides of the gate and the column of vehicles began to slow as they negotiated a path between great slabs of concrete laid to prevent any direct approach.
'They're cautious, I'll give them that,' said Pasanius, noting the way the guns at the corners of the compound walls followed the column in.
'They're scared,' said Uriel, thinking back to the hostility he had seen on every face they had passed on their journey towards this place. 'They've pulled back within their walls. I didn't see any patrols on the streets, did you?'
'No, but I wouldn't necessarily expect to see a military presence on the streets,' said Pasanius, 'Local enforcers maybe, but not Guard.'
'I didn't even see any of them,' said Uriel.
'No. Odd isn't it?'
'Very,' said Uriel.
Further conversation was halted as the gate rumbled open, sliding within the fabric of the wall, and the vehicles passed into the dusty courtyard of the compound. There were several barrack buildings inside, of basic Imperial design, portal framed sheds with corrugated iron walls and felt roofs. Similarly drab buildings were spaced at regular intervals around the compound: a mess hall, engineering sheds, fuel dumps, quartermaster stores and an infirmary.
A flag bearing a golden eagle with outthrust talons flew high over the compound and anxious looking soldiers ran from every building as the battered Chimeras parked up. Shouts were exchanged between men spilling from the vehicles and medics bellowed at their comrades to give the wounded room.
Uriel vaulted from the roof of the Chimera, aware of the strange looks he and Pasanius were drawing. He saw Colonel Kain, her clipped tones easily cutting through the confusion and collective outrage at the attack. With calm efficiency, she directed the work of the medics, ignoring their expressions of irritation at her meddling.
Uriel nodded to Pasanius and they walked over to the colonel of the Falcatas.
'Anything we can do to help?' asked Uriel.
Kain looked up from issuing her orders, her face clean and pristine again.
'No,' she said, 'and I'll thank you to remain with Sergeant Tremain. You are still in our custody.'
'Even after what just happened?' said Uriel, as Sergeant Tremain and a trio of Guardsmen, resplendent in fresh uniform jackets and raised lasguns moved up behind them.
'Especially after what just happened,' said Kain. 'Your arrival and the Sons of Salinas attack coming so soon after… I would be remiss not to wonder what the connection is, would I not?'
'The Sons of Salinas?' said Uriel. 'Who are they? I saw that name scrawled on a building in Khaturian.'
'Another thing I am less than comfortable with,' said Kain.
'But who are they?' pressed Uriel.
'They are nothing,' snapped Kain, her eyes blazing with fury. 'They are traitors who cling to the notion that the forces of the Imperium are invaders and should be resisted at every turn. They are terrorists, murderers and heretics, deserving of nothing less than extermination.'
Uriel was not surprised at her vehemence, for she had just seen scores of her men killed or wounded. Even so, there was a hatred in her steely tones that ran deeper than simple anger at the violence done to her company.
Verena Kain hated the Sons of Salinas with the passion of a zealot.
'Have you any idea how they were able to attack you like that?' asked Pasanius.
Kain flashed him a bilious glance that spoke volumes of her frustration. 'This whole damn city feeds them information,' she said. 'Every move we make, there's someone with a portable vox passing word of it.'
It took another thirty minutes to treat the wounded, secure the battered vehicles and re-equip the soldiers, all of whom had expended a good deal of their ammo load in the battle. A nervous looking commissar took statements from soldiers, selected at random, as far as Uriel could tell, and Kain continued to bark orders with the vigour of someone who dared not stop for even a second in case she had time to dwell on what had just occurred.
Her every command was obeyed with an alacrity that suggested that to do otherwise would result in the severest consequences, and Uriel recognised an officer who knew her trade, and who would never allow others to forget it.
In that time, Uriel and Pasanius sat against the hull of one of the Chimeras, the metal ticking and groaning as it cooled. The sun was halfway through its ascent towards its zenith and Uriel closed his eyes and let its warmth bathe his exposed flesh.
With nothing to do but wait until Colonel Kain decided it was time to leave, Uriel revelled in this unaccustomed time to himself. A Space Marine on active duty had precious little time that wasn't spent in preparation for battle. Weapons practice, strength building, biochemical monitoring and all manner of training drills were the virtual be all and end all of his life.
It was a life of service, a life of sacrifice and a life of battle.
What servant of the Emperor could ask for more?
The question presented its own answer in the shape of Ardaric Vaanes.
Uriel's time on Medrengard had caused him to question his role as a Space Marine, but he had passed his own time of testing and come through it stronger.
Others on that damned world had not shown such strength of character, and Uriel bitterly remembered the sight of Ardaric Vaanes as he had turned his back on his duty to the Emperor.
Vaanes had once been a warrior of the Raven Guard, but had, for reasons Uriel never discovered, forsaken his Chapter and taken the path of the renegade. Uriel had offered Vaanes the chance to rediscover his honour and seek redemption, but the warrior had chosen dishonour and disgrace.