The Emperor's Legion (Watchers of the Throne #1) - Chris Wraight Page 0,64
a glimpse of it in the real-viewers, but I could see terrifying banks of esoteric weaponry hanging like withered fruit under twisted boughs.
They wouldn’t destroy us – a voidship was too valuable – but it took only seconds for the lock-on detectors to blare, signifying a teleport locus.
‘Stand by to repel boarders!’ ordered Erefan, reaching for his weapon and crouching down by the command throne.
Then the air ripped apart in a hard shiver of displacement. The space over the command dais froze into a blaze of white-silver, and ether-lightning snarled out across the decking. Out from the heart of the cold inferno strode six figures. I’d already zeroed in on the leader, marking him for both flame and blade, and my calves tightened for the leap that would take me into contact.
‘Stand down, in the name of the Throne!’ boomed a voice that chilled me to my core. I froze, suddenly bewildered, before the last slivers of ether-matter ripped away.
Sisters of Silence emerged from the breaking clouds, four of them, clad like I was in full battle-amour and carrying great zweihanders that ran with blue flame. They spread out calmly, covering every strategic point and radiating such an aura of psychic blankness that the mortal crew recoiled as if struck by fists.
The two others were different. They were huge, towering above us all, encased in full-bodied golden armour that swam and winked with scattered warp-light. For a moment I thought they might be shedim, clad in aspects of deception and glory, sent to baffle me before they pulled my mortal frame apart. I aimed my flamer at the leader’s baroque helm, ready to empty my promethium reserves into that terrible mask of wonder.
He came towards me. He carried a crackling force spear, a weapon so grotesquely over-engineered that I would not have been able to lift it, let alone use it.
‘You were of the Arraissa convent,’ the creature said.
My finger still lingered over the trigger. I nodded.
The creature reached up and removed its helm. I saw a human face revealed, though greater, like a Space Marine’s to look at, only less brutal and more beautiful. It was a courtier’s face as much as it was a soldier’s, betraying both power and subtlety.
He deactivated the energy field over his blade.
‘Are you the last?’ he asked.
I didn’t know the answer to that, and hesitated. Then, to my complete surprise, he asked the question again, this time in flawless Thoughtmark – Are you the last?
To the best of my knowledge, I replied, my fingers dancing. It had been a long time since I’d been able to make use of the medium’s full fluency, and despite everything I felt an almost emotional release.
Then we were fortunate to find you, the golden one continued. I am Navradaran of the Ephoroi of the Adeptus Custodes, and I am here to take you home.
His eyes flickered towards my still-activated flamer, and he shot me a brief, dry smile.
Deactivate your weapon, please, he signed. Time is short, and if you will refrain from immolating me, there is much I have to tell you.
Tieron
Later we would call them the Days of Blindness. That was the time when we saw nothing and heard nothing. We were as alone as we had been before the Emperor had delivered us, sundered from our grand Imperium and cast adrift on the face of the abyss.
It was a time of terror. All laws were suspended, even those of time and space. We discovered later that all worlds had experienced the same horrific isolation, but the duration varied wildly. Some reported mere days of blindness, others months. For all I know, there may be many systems still in that terrible grip of nothingness.
It was caused by the warp, of course, staining into the void like blood in water. Everything it touched became mad, and the old boundaries flexed and broke around it. We discovered then how prescient the warnings of the old seers had been, as our many sins finally caught up with us.
On Terra, at the source of it, the blindness lasted just over a month. Thirty-three days of fear and violence overlooked all the time by our new skies of blood-red. The rioting became uncontrollable, spreading like wildfire and fuelled by false guides. The entire planet was placed under martial law, and every available member of the Astra Militarum was pressed into immediate action. Regiments still being raised for deployment to Cadia and Armageddon were recalled from their orbital musters and sent into