The Beast Arises

Ardamantua was different. It wasn’t the frontier, it was close. It was a genuine xenos threat without being a critical one. It was also an opportunity to live-test the capabilities of his Chapter and his own mind, and to demonstrate the enduring worth of the Adeptus Astartes. Opportunities on the scale of Ardamantua were all too rare.

Mirhen’s temper was famous. It manifested, more often than not, when those around him failed to keep pace with his tactical thought process. He’d even been known to rage at cogitators and data-engines. His anger showed when the rest of the universe failed to stay in step with his brilliance.

First Captain Algerin had privately remarked that Mirhen had become Chapter Master because of his anger. Yes, his tactical genius was astonishing, but it was equalled by three dozen of the senior ranking Fists. What Mirhen had was a tactical genius tempered by passion and the unpredictability of gut feeling. Some said there was more of Sigismund in him than Dorn.

When Mirhen retired to his throne during the pitch of the assault, all of the bridge crew expected his anger to emerge. The noise bursts had confounded them and there was a tense feeling that they represented something that had not been factored into a precondition.

‘Connect me,’ the Chapter Master told the vox-servitor.

The servitor extended its vox-speakers and opened its mouth. A beam of light projected out of it and formed a hololithic image on the deck at the Chapter Master’s feet.

A jumping, inconstant pict image of the magos biologis appeared, cut and broken by atmospherics and data-feed. Laurentis was in profile and appeared to be riding on some kind of open vehicle, and the light conditions were poor.

‘Magos,’ said Mirhen.

‘Sir,’ the magos crackled back over the speakers. He turned to look at his pict unit, his face turning full on in the image.

‘You sent a signal?’

‘Over two hours ago, sir. I need to transport equipment to the surface from my vessel, and permission has been denied.’

‘There is an assault underway, magos. I was not in a position to grant orbit to surface passage for any non-military transport.’

‘Are you now in a position to authorise my request?’ asked the magos. ‘If I can explain, I need the items so I can—’

‘You don’t need to explain, magos,’ said Mirhen.

‘I don’t?’

‘It concerns these bursts of noise, doesn’t it?’ asked the Chapter Master. ‘Your comm-request came through very shortly after the first one. You have not got in my way before, magos. It was slow-witted of me not to realise that you would only request a surface drop in the middle of an action like this if it was both urgent and pertinent.’

‘I appreciate the compliment, sir. You are quite correct.’

‘Tell me what you know,’ said Mirhen.

‘I believe the sound is organic in origin.’

‘Organic?’ asked the Chapter Master. ‘On this scale? Magos, it was a global detection—’

‘Organic, though it may have been synthesised and boosted,’ Laurentis replied. ‘I cannot explain why I feel this to be the case. I hope you will trust my experience and judgement. Both of those things tell me it is organic.’

‘A bio-weapon? Something the Chromes have that we haven’t predicted?’

The holo-image of Laurentis shook its head.

‘I think it is communication, sir,’ he said. ‘We just have to work out what it is saying. Hence my request for additional equipment.’

‘Your transport is already underway at my order,’ said Mirhen.

‘Thank you, sir.’

‘Are you suggesting the Chromes are trying to communicate with us? Since mankind first encountered them, they have not shown any propensity for sentient communication.’

‘This attack may have pushed them to a level where they feel communication is necessary, sir,’ replied Laurentis. ‘Perhaps they have broken their long silence because they are desperate to sue for peace or surrender. I cannot answer that yet, but I believe it’s clear that something is trying to communicate.’

‘Stay on this link, magos,’ Mirhen said. ‘I want to hear more about this, and I want to be apprised as soon as—’

He broke off as the pict image of Laurentis became choppy. The magos appeared to be agitated. There were flashes of light, and a great deal of background noise and interference. The image started to jump and wink out.

Then it shut off altogether.

‘Reconnect!’ Mirhen roared. ‘Reconnect that link!’

‘Transmission disrupted at source, sir,’ the servitor reported.

‘I think the magos’ party has come under attack,’ said Third Captain Akilios, awaiting his master’s orders.

‘I can damn well see that,’ said Mirhen. ‘Route the nearest available ground forces to him immediately. Pull his fat out of the fire. I need him alive.’

Seven

Ardamantua

Claws. They were definitely claws. They weren’t ‘digital blades affixed to or articulated from forelimbs’, which was a phrase Laurentis was pretty sure he’d used several times in the genotype description he’d composed for the Chromes.

They were claws.

It was perfectly straightforward to see them as such when they were swinging at you.