NO!+ his minda's voice shrieked, a thousand times louder despite its physical silence.

From a thousand, barely a hundred remained.

Bloodstained, battered, wounded, the last hundred entered the circular bridge of the Aggrieved.

Jevriana's broken arm was set, but hea'd picked up a limp from one of the cyclopean creaturesa' claws gashing his thigh. The wound was smeared with anti-ague gel but it still stung, in Jevriana's own words, like an army of b.a.s.t.a.r.ds.

Osirona's breathing rattled in and out of his rebreather and he held his axe low in tired hands. Rax stalked alongside the tech-priest, jaws spread for battle, its armoured body filthy with enemy blood.

Thade and Darrick were unharmed but exhausted, and Thadea's sword was clogged with gore, preventing any function. Caius had expended all of his sacred ammunition on the warp-beasts, and simply let his heavy psycannon fall to the floor, ignoring it now that it was useless.

The 88th fanned out around the circular room, looking in at the centre of the chamber where the raised control throne jutted from the floor on a grand stepped platform. Chains hung from the ceiling of the chamber, decorated by the old mark III helms of long-dead loyalist Astartes. The cogitator banks and consoles by the walls sat in ruin, many still with their operators close to their stations, wasted away to loose piles of bone on the ground.

A hundred rifles raised to cheeks as Thade pointed his fouled sword at the figure in the throne. The ent.i.ty was reborn. Its reserves of strength might have been exhausted by both the plague it unleashed and the invisible, draining wounds inflicted by Setha's final a.s.sault, but it sensed the nearness of Typhus, and that nearness made the ent.i.ty bold.

It was clearly once an Astartes. Time, and the favour of its hateful G.o.d, had changed that. What sat upon the throne now was club-limbed and twisted, like something half-formed from a psykera's nightmare and wrapped in ill-fitting Astartes armour. Its flesh was liquefied in places, melting and reforming like hot candlewax. Blisters and buboes covered its skin where bleeding rashes did not.

a"h.e.l.lo,a" it said.

a"In the name of the G.o.d-Emperor,a" Caius intoned, and the daemon recognised the only true threat in the room. Power roiled from Caius. In the moment the ent.i.ty sensed it up close, it knew fear.

a"Die,a" it said to the inquisitor.

Caius died. Not instantly, but within a few short seconds. The veins stood out on his face, dark and ugly, as he mustered his psychic might to repel the horrendously powerful telepathic invasion. It was more thorough and disgustingly more tender than any physical violation. Bastian Caius, who had come all this way to serve the Throne, drew his power sword and activated it, feeling an alien force eating his mind. He would have been at least a little consoled to learn of the immense effort the daemon had used in this command. He would have been proud to learn the daemon had feared him so much that it risked further psychic drain to ensure Caiusa' demise.

The Cadians never saw the inquisitora's death. By the time Caius had obeyed the terrible command and plunged his aquila-hilted blade into his own belly, the Guardsmen had opened fire on the daemon.

a"Have you come to bring me back into the False Emperora's light?a" Grotesquely, it spoke with Setha's voice even though it no longer wore his features, masked as they were under its reformed power armour. a"To show me my sins in the light of your dead G.o.d?a"

Something like that, Thade thought as his broken sword fell in a chop, and a hundred rifles fired in anger.

All told, the final battle between the survivors of the Cadian 88th Mechanised Infantry and the daemon responsible for the Kathurite Scourge lasted under one minute, yet it cost the lives of forty-six loyal Cadian-born servants of the Throne.

The volleys of las-fire did almost nothing to the creature, and it rampaged through the bridge, its claws tearing soldiers limb from limb, while it paused only to vomit acid on those too slow or too proud to retreat.

Thade and Horlan, both armed with ruined chainswords that sported stilled teeth, ran in to engage the daemon. They were joined by the wounded Ban Jevrian with his malfunctioning and half-snapped power sabre, and twenty men using their pistols and bayonets. With Thade was Rax, leaping at its mastera's side.

This swarm a.s.sault also did almost nothing, except cost lives. Horlan was decapitated by a sweep of the daemona's claw. Thade was saved from the same fate at the last moment by a grinding metal hand blocking the falling clawa's arc.

Osiron, his back-mounted powerpack and additional servo-arm sparking as its joints gave way under the pressure, held the creature at bay long enough for Thade to get to his feet again.

The tech-priesta's last action in the battle was to swing his two-handed axe with all his machine-enhanced strength, ramming it solidly into the daemona's body. This, at last, did something. The blade bit hard, snagging within the beasta's spine, dropping it to its knees. Its return strike smashed Osiron to the side of the chamber, where he would die several minutes later from blood loss and internal haemorrhaging.

Renewed las-fire slashed into the p.r.o.ne daemon, every beam now carving its burn lines into the fatty flesh of the thinga's face. Thade came at it from the side, both pistols hammering until their clips ran dry. Rax leapt at the horror, its jaws ripping head-sized chunks of spoiled meat from the beasta's bones.

It was weakening, but hardly out of the fight, even without the use of its legs.

a"Thade!a" Commissar Tionenji cried as he ran at the creature, hacking into its neck with his slender chainblade. His own strike was a distraction, as the sword hea'd taken from Inquisitor Caiusa' body flashed through the air in Thadea's direction. The captain caught it, reversed it in his hands, and plunged it two-handed into the daemona's neck. Black blood flowed from a legion of wounds now.

And it still wouldna't die.

There was no glorious final blow, though the soldiers of the 88th a- those that survived a- would say over the years that it was Thadea's last strike which a.s.suredly saw the daemon dead. The truth was altogether less glorious, and because Taan Darrick was involved, consisted of much more swearing than the saga would say.

a"Run, you idiots!a" Darrick cried from his position by the side consoles with the remains of his squad.

Thade and the others in their desperate melee saw a rain of black incoming, clattering all around.

Grenades.

As Thade threw himself aside, his world exploded in light.

a"Let this world rot.a" The Heralda's voice was a savage whisper. He still stood at the gates of the monastery, listening as the psychic death scream faded from his sixth sense. a"I am done with this place.a"

The Death Guard formed around their lord and master, unsure of his meaning.

a"We are leaving, Great One?a" a plague-ridden Astartes asked.

Typhus chuckled. The things living within his windpipe writhed at this rare mistreatment.

a"Yes. I have real business to attend to beyond this petty distraction. Tell me, do you remember Brother-Sergeant Arlus?a"

a"No, lord,a" replied the closest Death Guard.

a"Do any of you?a"

a"I do, lord. I was Brother Menander. I served Arlus in life. We were Seventh Company. He was greatly blessed by the Grandfather when we made war upon Terra.a"

a"He was. But he squandered his gift. And this shall be the last time I allow the whining of distant fools to distract me from my duty. Come. We return to Terminus Est!a"

a"And then, lord?a"

a"And then to Cadia. Take me to the Warmaster.a"

a"Medic!a"

Thade knelt by Osiron, flinching back as sparks flared from the tech-priesta's sundered body armour.

a"Sir,a" Tasoll looked awkward as he held his narthecium kit, staring down at the torn red robe now revealing an entirely augmetic body. a"W-what should I do? Hea's not even bleeding blood.a"

a"It is a synthesised compound a" Osiron wheezed a" of haemolubricant qualities and a"

a"Shut up, you idiot,a" Thade looked at the oily black fluid covering his hands. a"Just shut up, and tell us what to do!a"

Tech-priest Enginseer Bylam Osiron said nothing more.

Amongst the stinking fallout and moans of the injured, Commissar Tionenji leaned against the door arch leading from the bridge. He caught his breath away from the men, not willing to let them see how exhausted he was. It was his duty to be inspiring at all times. Not for Commissar Tionenji were the aches and woes of mortal tiredness. The men shouldna't see such things.

A smile crossed his lips. He was alive. Life! After all they had witnessed and all they had endured.

He was a man whose intelligence was both ruthless and restless. Already he planned stratagems for the remains of the regiment to survive on Kathur long enough to greet the main Reclamation forces. The incident with Thade and his command team pulling their weapons on a commissar would have to be addressed, but a"Hey.a" Ban Jevrian of the Kasrkin limped up to the commissar, his right trouser leg soaked with red. a"One h.e.l.l of a fight.a"

a"Greetings, master sergeant,a" Tionenji grinned a- all white teeth set in his dark face. a"The Emperor smiles on us, I think.a"

a"Oh, you think?a"

The knife came from nowhere. One moment Jevrian had been leaning against the wall with Tionenji, cradling his broken arm and favouring his bad leg. The next moment, Jevriana's fist was at the commissara's ear and his hand-length boot knife was sticking clean through Tionenjia's skull.

Blood barely even had time to spurt before the commissar dropped to the decking. Jevrian reclaimed his knife several seconds later, wincing as he needed to bend down. His leg really did ache like an army of b.a.s.t.a.r.ds.

a"The Emperor smiles upon me,a" Jevrian raised himself back up, wiping his knife, the blade clearly stamped with the regimenta's insignia, on the sleeve of his fatigues.

a"But you? I doubt hea'd p.i.s.s on you if you were on fire.a"

Jevrian returned to the main area. Taan Darrick met his eyes from across the b.l.o.o.d.y bridge, and the Kasrkin officer nodded once.

In the earpiece of every soldier still standing, a single vox-click sounded. Several men nodded. Some smiled. Most pretended not to hear it, but only one never knew what it meant.

a"What was that?a" asked Thade, tapping his vox-bead.

a"Nothing, sir,a" Darrick replied. a"Just a glitch.a"

EPILOGUE.

Home.

I.

Twenty-seven days later, the Reclamation fleet arrived in full force.

The Heralda's fleet was gone a- had been gone for weeks a- leaving only the faintest echoes in the warp to mark their departure. They left a dead world behind them, marking their failure.

The first troops to walk the surface encountered fewer threats than the Reclamationa's initial spearhead had faced. Never concerned with reinforcing the world for conquest, no Archenemy vessels arrived to save the heretics of the Remnant and its splinter cults drawn from the treasonous populace. With all global production shut down and off-world imports utterly ceased, the still-living humans of Kathur began to die of thirst and starvation before long. Those that maintained supplies of food and water eked out an existence as territorial warbands until the Imperial Guarda's main force annihilated them completely in what scholars came to know as the a"True Reclamationa".

The Guard units arriving at the headquarters of Overseer Maggrig and the fallen regiments he commanded, encountered a fortified base of jury-rigged prefab structures and salvaged tank cannons mounted on scratch built fortress walls.

As the gates to this rather humble fortress opened, General Millius Rylo of the Hadris Rift 19th descended from his command tank a- a pristine Leman Russ Demolisher a- and was greeted by a man in ragged Cadian-pattern armour painted black with grey fatigues.

a"Welcome to New Solthane,a" said the man with a captaina's stripes on his shoulder. He scratched at a black beard that had been growing for the past few weeks at least. Water rations apparently hadna't allowed for luxuries like shaving. a"I sincerely hope youa've brought us some ammunition.a"

The man next to him, equally filthy, raised his hand.

a"I wouldna't say no to some food, either.a"

a"Shut up, Taan,a" the captain said.

a"Shutting up, sir.a"

The general observed these scruffy examples of Guard discipline, clearly less than thrilled at the sight before his eyes.

a"You look like death, both of you,a" he said, his lip curling. And that wasna't even the worst of it. The captain a- and the men joining him from the buildings around a- all stank to high heaven.

Evidently bathing hadna't been on the cards, either.

II.

My Lord Castellan, I recommend First Lieutenant Parmenion Thade for the highest citation in our worlda's defence. Despite grievous injury and a shattered chain of command, he a.s.sumed leadership of Shock and Interior Guard forces stationed in the recent retreat at Kasr Vallock arranging for the evacuation of seventy-zone per cent of citizenry even as the fortress-city fell. All survivors bolstered the defences at nearby Kasrs, including the wounded governor-militant and his family.

I also have reports from over fifty eyewitnesses that First Lieutenant Thade duelled and slew a Traitor Astartes of the Thousand Sons Legion with the a.s.sistance of his command platoon.

As a final note, I offer the eyewitness reports listed in the attached fife, listing Mechanic.u.m personnel who will testify to the destruction of the enemy t.i.tan (Reaver-cla.s.s) designated a"Syntagmaa" at the fall of Kasr Vallock. Thadea's sappers and tech-priest contingent were responsible for the overloaded generatoria within the citya's industrial sector that fed to the Syntagmaa's immobilisation. The following deployment of Interior Guard and Shock forces storming the crippled t.i.tan resulted in the war machinea's destruction.

Creed, I heard about the new medals. Give one to Thade. Too many are being given posthumous, and wea've little to be proud of since the Despoiler set foot on Home. He deserves this, and with the losses sustained to our regiment, Ia'm making him a captain immediately.

We will march together again, Lord Castellan, under Cadian skies. Until that day, may the G.o.d-Emperor watch over you.

Colonel Josuan Lockwood.

Cadian 88th Mechanised Infantry.

Thade lowered the dataslate.

Hea'd never read his citation before, and Colonel Lockwooda's words to Lord Castellan Creed sat uncomfortably in his mind. Melancholy at the disaster of Kathur months ago mixed with the bitterness of Kasr Vallock still less than a year before. It had always seemed ridiculous to him a- earning a medal and a priceless sword for the first time in his life hea'd ever had to run from a battle. The first battle hea'd ever lost. In failure, he was rewarded. Promoted, even.

Hea'd told Lockwood the truth once. The truth behind Kasr Vallock.

a"I wanted to stand and fight,a" hea'd said. a"It was Osiron who talked me down, gave me a long speech about fighting the good fight when it counted most for Cadia and not when it counted for my pride.a" Hea'd clenched his fists; one familiar and warm, the other a- freshly implanted a- unfamiliar, still numb to most sensation beyond a sense of aching cold.

a"Throne, I wanted to die there. It was home. We left our own home to burn. Now wea're being shipped off-world while the enemy p.i.s.ses on the rubble of the city where we were born.a"

a"Stop whining, Thade,a" the colonel had said. a"Slap a smile on your miserable face tomorrow when the Lord Castellan gives you that sword, and get over yourself. Wea're all hurting. Half of Home has fallen, son. Cadian Blood, eh? Ice in your veins.a"

Thade had chuckled then, and forced a smile. Lockwood was right, of course. Hea'd always had that d.a.m.nable ability and Thade admired him for it.

a"You win.a"