Part VII
Mere minutes had elasped since the first firing, but already it began to die down. With a resounding boom, the front door was blown from its frame. Zeke watched in fascinated horror as half a dozen Dark Angels burst in, spraying boltgun fire everywhere. When they saw the room was empty, their stance relaxed, and information was relayed. The Deathwing commander -- Zeke could almost read a name scribed onto his armor...Lucius, perhaps -- strode in, surveying the scene.
With a gesture that spoke of long years of service, he bowed on one knee to the shrine of the Emperor, then cast his glance about the room. His manner was unreadable behind his implacable helmet, but his stance showed his anger.
"The heretic Gideon is not here, Brother-Captain," reported one of the dark-armored Marines.
"He has eluded us after all," responded the Captain.
"Perhaps he was never here," offered the trooper. "This shrine is hardly the evidence of a pariah."
"Be silent, Brother Zachariah!" Lucius ordered, swinging his bulk to face the man. "Yours is not to question. Our orders come from Commander Azrael himself. Gideon was here, that is all that matters."
"Apologies, Brother-Captain," murmured Zachariah. "I was not questioning our mission. I live to serve the Emperor. His enemies are my enemies. That is all I need to know."
Lucius stared anger a moment longer, then reached up and removed his helmet. His iron-jawed face grimaced in vexation. "Apology accepted. The Emperor knows this has not been an easy mission. Rumors of the heretic Gideon were so new and uncertain that even Brother-Chaplain Pluvius doubted their veracity. To have come so close and still miss him... it is a grave stain on our Chapter's honor."
"Brother-Captain," the trooper began, tentatively, "would not this mission have been better served had we enlisted the assistance of the Arbitrators?"
Lucius whirled on Zachariah, a penetrating glare of righteous anger flaring from his gray eyes. "All Marines, clear the room!" he thundered. "Zachariah, you will do penance! You are obviously still an untrained scout, judging by your behavior before the Emperor's shrine!" After the other soldiers had filed out the room, Lucius continued in a more moderate tone. "Are you not a Dark Angel? Have not the Chaplains told you in their sermons that it is our sacred duty to root out certain heretics? The Grand Master himself orders us to find this man, this Gideon, and _you_ would question the wisdom of his orders? I am Deathwing; I see deeper into mysteries than you do now. I know what we do is just, and the Emperor's righteous fury shines through my devotion! On my faith, you will not speak your doubts aloud again, or you shall grace this miserable planet with your bones!"
Trembling with suppressed emotion, Zachariah bowed his head, his helmet revealing nothing. "Brother-Sergeant!" Lucius bellowed, not taking his eyes from Zachariah.
Instantly, another Marine appeared in the doorway. "Yes, Brother-Captain?"
"How many of the Adeptus Arbites men are still alive?"
The sergeant didn't hesitate. "Roughly thirty, sir."
Turning away from the berated trooper, Lucius faced the sergeant. "Leave no survivors, Brother-Sergeant." With practiced ease, he slipped his helmet back on. "All knowledge of this event must be erased from man's reckoning. Take half your men and dispatch the troopers. They die for the good of the Imperium. Send the other half out in a search for the apostate. Our faith shall guide us in our holy cause. By the Emperor's blood, we shall have him!" Amidst a frenzy of shouted commands and distant bolter fire, the three men left the house. In his small protective cubicle, young Zeke began to cry. |