James Swallow - The Flight of the Eisenstein

You disobeyed a ranking officer's direct command.' It was not a question.

'I did.'

'What evidence did you have at that time that Tarvitz was not, as Eidolon said, a renegade and a turncoat?'

Garro hesitated, shifting uncomfortably on his aug-metic leg. 'None, lord, only my faith in my honour brother.'

'That word again,' said the primarch. 'Continue, captain.'

Qruze had heard second-hand from conversations with Sergeant Hakur of the firefight on the Eisenstein's gun deck, but it was only as Garro relayed it that he found a true sense of it. The Death Guard baulked at repeating the seditious declarations of Commander Grulgor, and when Dorn ordered him to, a new ten­sion emerged across the room as he finally gave voice to them. Qruze saw anger pushing at Sigismund's lips and finally the captain spoke.

'I cannot hear this without answer! If this is true, then tell me how the Warmaster allowed Death Guard and Emperor's Children alike to make these plays for power under his very nose? The unsanc­tioned virus bombardment of an entire world? The execution of civilians? How did he become so blind overnight, Garro?'

'He was not blind/ Garro said grimly. 'Horus sees only too well.' He looked the primarch in the eye. 'Lord, your brother is not ignorant of this duplicity. He is the author of it, and his hands are stained with the blood of men from his own Legion, from mine and from those of the World Eaters and the Emperor's Children as well-'

Dorn moved so quickly that Qruze flinched, but the Master of the Imperial Fists was not coming for him. There was a crack of sound and Garro fell away, skid­ding back across the bright blue marble of the sanctorum's flooring. Qruze saw Garro hover on the edge of unconsciousness, a livid bruise forming on his face. With care, the Death Guard blinked back to wakefulness and worked at resetting his jawbone.

'For even daring to think of such a thing in my pres­ence, I should have you flogged and then vented to the void/ growled the primarch, every word a razor. 'I will not hear any more of this fantasy'

'You must/ Qruze blurted, taking a half-step for­ward. He ignored the ratcheting of slides on the bolters of Sigismund's men. 'You must hear him out!'

'You dare to give me an order?' Dorn faced the old warrior. 'A relic who should have been retired cen­turies ago, you dare to do so?'

Iacton saw his opening and took it. 'I do, and fur­thermore I know that you will. If you truly thought that Garro's words had no value then you would have killed him where he stood.' He moved to help Garro to his feet. 'Even in your moment of anger, you pulled a blow that could have broken his neck… because you want to hear everything. That is what you asked for, isn't it? The complete truth.'

For an instant, Qruze saw a flash of titanic rage in the primarch's gaze, and felt his blood run cold. That's it, you old fool, he told himself, that was a word too far. He's going to kill us both for our bold­ness.

Then Dorn gestured to Sigismund and his Astartes lowered their guns. 'Speak/ he told Garro. 'Tell me it all.'

Garro fought down the giddiness and pain. Dorn was so fast, even in that tonnage of armour, he was lightning. Had he intended real harm against him, Garro knew that he would never have seen it coming. With care, he swallowed and took a painful breath. 'After the bombing, I knew that I had no other choice but to do as Saul Tarvitz and I had discussed, and take a warning to Terra. With Grulgor dead, I ordered my men to secure the Eisenstein. In the interim, Captain Qruze had come aboard with the civilians.'

The remembrancers and the iterator/ said the pri­march. They had been aboard Horus's flagship.'

'Aye, lord/ added the Luna Wolf. 'My battle-brother, Garviel Loken, entrusted their safety to me. The girl Keeler, she…' He paused, marshalling his thoughts. 'She suggested that Captain Garro could help us.'

'Loken,' said Sigismund. 'My lord, I know him. We met aboard the Vengeful Spirit!

Dorn glanced aside. 'What was your measure of him, first captain?'

'A Cthonian, and all that entails, with a strong spirit if a little naive. He seemed trustworthy, a man of prin­ciples.'

The primarch absorbed this. 'Continue, Garro.'

Nathaniel ignored the tension in his jaw and relayed the details of the signal sent to Typhon and the Eisenstein's pursuit by the Terminus Est, then the catastrophic voyage through the warp. There was a moment when one of Sigismund's men made a deri­sive noise under his breath as Garro described the freakish revivification of Grulgor's dead men, but Dorn silenced that with a hard look.

'There are stranger powers that lurk within the immaterium than we may know/ the warlord said darkly, 'but what you say tests reason even with that qualification. These things you speak of come dan­gerously close to primitive ideals of sorcery and magic'

The Death Guard nodded. 'I do not deny it, Lord Dorn, but you asked me to give you the truth as I saw it, and this is what I saw. Something in the warp brought Grulgor back to life, it animated his contam­inated flesh through the very disease that had claimed him. Do not ask me for an explanation, sir, as I have none.'

'This is what you come to me with?' The primarch's slow anger filled the room like smoke, heavy and

dark. 'A convoluted story of treachery and conspiracy among the Emperor's sons, a collection of ill-informed opinions and rash actions made with base emotion and not cold clarity?' He advanced slowly on Garro, and it took all of Nathaniel's courage not to back away. 'If I were to have my brothers in this room right now, Mortarion, Fulgrim, Angron, Horns… what would they say of your tale? Do you think that you would even be able to draw a breath before you were struck down for such an outright fiction?'

'I know it is difficult to accept-'

'Difficult?' Dorn raised his voice for the first time and the room shook with it. 'Difficult is a winding labyrinth, or a complex skein of navigational formu­lae! This is against our very creed and character as the Emperor's chosen warriors!' He glared at Garro, eyes aflame. 'I do not know what to make of you, Garro! You carry yourself like an honest man, but if you are not a traitor and a deceiver then you can only be pos­sessed by insanity!' He stabbed a finger at Qruze. 'Should I make a concession for some contagious senility perhaps? Did the warp addle your minds and create this hallucination between you?'

Garro heard the sound of his blood rushing in his ears. Everything was going wrong, falling apart around him. In his rush to find a rescuer for the Eisen-stein and a way to get the message out, it had never occurred to him that he would not be believed. He looked away.

'Look at me when I speak to you, Death Guard!' snapped the primarch. 'These lies you bring into my personal chambers, they sicken and disgust me. That you would dare to say such things about a hero of such matchless character as my brother, Horus, it vexes me beyond my capacity for description!' He

placed a massive finger on the sternum of Garro's armour. 'How cheap you must hold your integrity to give it up so easily! I weep for Mortarion if a man of such low honour as you could rise to command a company of the XIV Legion.' Dorn's hand closed into a massive brass fist. 'Know this – the only reason I do not tear you limb from limb for your defamation is that I know my brothers will reserve that pleasure for themselves!'

Garro felt the decking turn to mud beneath his boots and his chest caught in an invisible vice, return­ing to him the same sickening sensations that he had felt in the corridor outside the navis sanctorum and in the grip of the xenos war beast. As he had there, he reached for and found the strength of will that had carried him this far.