The hall was filled with people, some dressed in strangely cut suits, others in bright robes or simple smocks. There were all manner of different skin colours and features, jewellery and headdresses, but the hundreds packed into the auditorium had one thing in common: the absolute terror written upon their faces.
Most were wide-eyed and open-mouthed, some were visibly shaking and sweating and others were on their feet or cramming themselves into the backs of their chairs in an effort to put as much distance between themselves and their new arrivals.
A few moments later more teleporter energy crackled across the floor to Astelan’s left, and where there had been empty air now stood Belath. He was dressed, as was Astelan, in simple robes of black. At his right ear Belath wore a comm-piece and Astelan could see that it was on open transmission; the Chapter commander’s troops in orbit would hear everything said.
Astelan raised his arms out and held his palms up to show that he held no weapon.
‘I am Chapter Commander Astelan of the Dark Angels Legion.’ Astelan’s voice boomed out and rebounded from the walls and ceiling, carrying easily to every part of the broad chamber. ‘I am here as the representative of the Emperor of Mankind. Who here has authority to speak with me?’
The assembled delegates glanced nervously at each other until an elderly man limped forwards, a walking cane in his right hand. He was bald but for a few wisps of hair and a thin beard that hung to his chest. His skin was like dried leather and a cataract scarred his left eye. The remaining good eye regarded Astelan with a mixture of apprehension and awe.
The elderly man hobbled forwards to stand in front of the giant Astartes. Astelan was almost two feet taller than the man who stood before him, and his broad body could have contained his frail frame ten times over. The man stood regarding the newcomer with his good eye, and Astelan returned his stare with a steady gaze.
‘I am Chairman Paldrath Grane,’ said the man. His voice was strong and unwavering, utterly at odds with his physical condition. ‘I speak for the Committee of Nations, but others will speak for their own.’
‘Your world is but one of many thousands spread across the stars,’ Astelan said, speaking slowly and clearly. ‘The ancient empire of man was shattered, but a new power has arisen. From ancient Terra the Emperor of Mankind now builds a new galaxy upon the remnants of the old. Humanity unites under his leadership and benefits from his protection.’
‘Of ancient Terra, we know not,’ said Grane. ‘Old worlds, old star empires, this we recall in our most prized histories. You come with war and offer peace. What right has your Emperor to rule Byzanthis?’
‘By his own power and destiny has he been chosen to lead us,’ said Astelan. ‘Prosperity, technology and peace will be yours if you embrace the Emperor’s Enlightenment.’
‘And if we refuse?’ This was from an equally ancient man sat in the front row of seats just to Astelan’s left. The Chairman turned with a scowl, which was returned in kind.
‘Identify yourself,’ said Belath, stepping forwards.
‘President Kinloth of Confederate Vanz,’ the man replied. Though old, he was more sturdily built than Grane, with a full head of short grey hair and a close-cropped beard. His eyes were sunken and ringed with dark lines and his teeth much stained. ‘It was my army you attacked four days ago.’
‘A misunderstanding, it was not our intent to fight but to make peaceful contact,’ said Astelan.
‘And what peace you bring to families of two thousand, seven hundred and eighty men killed?’ demanded Kinloth. ‘What peace you bring to one thousand, six hundred and fifteen more that lie in hospitals?’
‘The peace of the knowledge that no more need die here,’ said Belath.
‘They will be remembered for their sacrifices and gloried by the Emperor’s servants,’ said Astelan quickly, hiding his annoyance. ‘None fall in the Emperor’s service and go neither unheeded nor unremarked, nor their families unrewarded.’
‘If what you say is true, Confederate Vanz will welcome your Emperor when he arrives,’ Kinloth said. His eyes had lit up at the mention of reward and it was clear he saw some personal gain in the unfolding events.
‘Lashkar Kerupt will not welcome your Emperor,’ said another dignitary, a short middle-aged woman in a flowing silken red dress embroidered with butterfly designs. Her dark hair was bound into a tight knot, and her face was painted with yellow and her lips with black. She stood and turned to address those behind her.
‘Listen to me!’ she cried out. ‘Strangers come with hand offering peace while holding gun behind backs. Our astro-stations detect strangers’ ships above our cities. Warships intent on destroying. Strangers come to kill or enslave our world. We must take hostages to guarantee freedom.’
Astelan darted a glance towards Belath at the mention of ships in orbit above the world’s cities, but the Chapter commander gave no acknowledgement.
‘Seize them!’ cried the woman and the doors were flung open. From entrances all around the hall black-unformed soldiers burst into the room, stubby carbines in their hands.
‘Wait!’ Astelan shouted, both a warning to the soldiers and a command to Belath.
‘Protect your commanders!’ snapped Belath, his eyes regarding Astelan with cold hostility.
No more than two seconds after his command, the air around the pair snapped with energy. Bulky figures shimmered into view encircling the pair; ten massively armoured Terminators raised their combi-bolters and opened fire. The initial salvo was devastating, tearing holes in chests, ripping off limbs and decapitating by the score. Such desultory return fire as existed pinged harmlessly from the inches-thick ceramite-and-adamantium bonded shells of the warriors’ armour.
‘Withdraw,’ said Astelan as bullets skipped from the tiled floor and plucked at his robe.
Facing foes coming at them from every direction, the Terminators formed a defensive ring and began to walk towards one of the doorways. Hysterical shouting and panicked shrieks mixed with the deafening crash of combi-bolters. The delegates clawed and kicked at each other as they streamed away from the Astartes. Some snatched up weapons from fallen soldiers but were blasted apart in turn. Stepping over blasted and blistered bodies, the Astartes retreated up the steps, through the doorway and into the room beyond.
They were in some form of small antechamber, filled with soldiers. As the Astartes entered, the soldiers turned and fled without firing a shot. Two Terminators moved forwards to secure the other doorway, and for the moment Astelan found himself in a centre of calm.
‘They detected your ships!’ he bellowed at Belath. ‘I told you not to move without my command!’
‘I have made no move as yet,’ Belath replied calmly. ‘Drop forces stand by to respond to my command. I await your consent.’
Astelan opened his mouth but said nothing, unable to give voice to the mixture of rage and incredulity that was boiling up inside.
‘Should I strike now or shall we withdraw again?’ Belath asked, his voice barely heard by Astelan through the thundering of his heartbeat in his ears.
‘What?’ Astelan said.
‘Shall I order the attack or shall we teleport back to orbit?’ Belath said. ‘All of their leaders are here. Those who wish to surrender can do so now. Those that wish to fight will face the consequences of their decisions.’
‘This is how you wanted it to happen, isn’t it?’ said Astelan.
‘I had no idea the natives were capable of detecting a vessel in low orbit,’ said Belath. ‘However, we cannot rectify that and should act as necessary to preserve our troops and foster victory. To delay further would be a grave error.’