Dan Abnett - Necropolis

Corbec was standing by his truck, smoking a cigar, gazing placidly around the place, oblivious to the frenzy of activity all about him. He turned slowly, taking in the sheer scale of the hive around him, beyond the glare of the sodium lamp rigs: the towering manufactories and smelteries, the steeples of the work habs beyond them, then the great crest of some Ecclesiarch basilica, and behind it all, the vast structure of the Main Spine, a mind-numbingly huge bulk illuminated by a million or more windows. Big as a fething mountain peak back home on

On nowhere. He still forgot, sometimes.

His eyes were drawn to a vast pylon near the Main Spine which rose just as high as the hive-mountain. It seemed to mark the heart of the whole city-hub. Storms of crackling energy flared from its apex, spreading out to feed the flickering green shield that over-arched it all. Corbec had never seen a shield effect this big before. It was quite something. He gazed south and saw the rippling light flashes of shells falling across the Shield, deflecting and exploding harmlessly. Quite something indeed and it looked like it worked.

He took another drag on his cigar and the coal glowed red. The sheer size of this place was going to take a lot of getting used to. He had seen how most of his boys had been struck dumb as they entered the hive, gaping up at the monumental architecture. He knew he had to beat that awe out of them as quickly as possible, or they'd be too busy gazing dumbly to fight.

Put that out! a voice ordered crisply behind him.

Corbec turned and for a moment he thought it was Gaunt. But only for a moment. The commissar stalking towards him had nothing of Gaunt's presence. He had local insignia and his puffy face was pale and unhealthy. Corbec said nothing but simply took the cigar from his mouth and raised one eyebrow. He was a good twenty-five centimetres taller than the black-coated officer.

The man halted a few paces short, taking in the sheer size of Colm Corbec. Commissar Langana, VPHC. This is a secure area. Put that gakking light out!

Corbec put the cigar back between his lips and, still silent, tapped the colonel's rank pins on his shoulder braid.

I the man began. Then, thinking better of everything, turned and stalked away.

Colonel?

Mkoll was approaching with another local, thankfully regular army-issue rather than one of the tight-arsed political cadre.

This is Captain Daur, our liaison officer. Daur snapped his heels together as well as any man with a leg-wound could, and saluted with his left hand. He blinked in surprise when Corbec held out his own left hand without hesitation. Then he shook it. The grip was tight. Daur immediately warmed to this bearded, tattooed brute. He'd taken Daur's injury in at a glance and compensated without any comment.

Welcome to Vervunhive, colonel, Daur said.

Can't say I'm glad to be here, captain, but a war's a war, and we go where the Emperor wills us. Did you arrange these billets?

Daur glanced around at the mouldering sheds where the Tanith First were breaking out their kits and lighting lamps in neat platoon order.

No, sir, he replied sheepishly. I wanted better. But space is at a premium in the hive just now.

Corbec chuckled. In a place this big?

We have been overrun with refugees and wounded from the south. All free areas such as the Commercia, the Landing Field and the manufactories have been opened to house them. I actually requested some superior space for your men in the lower Main Spine, but Vice Marshal Anko instructed that you should be barracked closer to the Curtain Wall. So this is it. Gavunda Chem Plant Storebarns/Southwest. For what it's worth.

Corbec nodded. Lousy chem plant barns for the Tanith Ghosts. He was prepared to bet a month's pay the Volpone Bluebloods weren't bedding down in some sooty hangar this night.

We've cleared seven thousand square metres in these sheds for you and I can annex more if you need room to stack supplies.

No need, Corbec said. We're only one regiment. We won't take much space.

Daur led them both into the main hangar space where most of the Ghosts were preparing their billets. Through an open shutter, Corbec could see into another wide shed where the rest were making camp.

My men have dug latrines over there and there are a number of worker washrooms and facilities still operational in the sheds to the left. Daur pointed these features out in turn. So far, the main water supplies are still on, so the showers work. But I took the liberty of setting up water and fuel bowsers in case the supplies go down.

Corbec looked where Daur indicated and saw a row of tanker trucks with fuel clamps and standpipes grouped by the western fence.

Sheds three, four and five are loaded with food and perishable supplies, and munitions orders will arrive by daybreak. House Command has requisitioned another barn over there from House Anko for use as your medical centre.

Corbec gazed across at the rickety long-shed Daur pointed to. Get Dorden to check it out, Mkoll, he said. Mkoll flagged down a passing trooper and sent him off to find the chief medic.

I've also set up primary and secondary vox-links in the side offices here, said Daur as he led them through a low door into what had once been the factory supervisor's suite. The rooms were thick with dust and cobwebs, but two deep-gain vox units were mounted on scrubbed benches along one wall, flickering and active, chattering with staccato dribbles of link-talk. There were even fresh paper rolls and lead-sticks laid out near the sets. The thoroughness made Corbec smile. Maybe it was the worker-mentality of the hive.

I assumed you'd use this as your quarters, Daur said. He showed Corbec a side office with a cot and a folding desk. Corbec glanced in, nodded and turned back to face the captain.

I'd say you had made us welcome indeed, Daur, despite the facilities granted us by your hive-masters. Looks like you've thought of everything. I won't forget your trouble in a hurry.

Daur nodded, pleased.

Corbec stepped out of the offices and raised his voice. Sergeant Varl!

Varl stopped what he was doing and came across the hangar space double-time, threading between billeting Tanith. Colonel?

Rejoice. You've won the supplies duty. Those sheds there, Corbec glanced at Daur for confirmation, are for storage. Raise a detail and get our stuff housed from the trucks.

Varl nodded and strode off, calling up volunteers.

With Daur and Mkoll beside him, Corbec surveyed the activity in the billet. Looks like the Ghosts are making themselves at home, he murmured to no one in particular.

Ghosts? Why do you call them that? Where are you from? Daur asked.

Tanith, Mkoll said.

Corbec smiled sadly and contradicted the sergeant. Nowhere, Captain Daur. We're from nowhere and that's why we're ghosts.

This is the only space available, Commissar Langana said flatly.

Not good enough, Dorden said, looking around the dimly-lit hangar, taking in the shattered windows, the piles of refuse and the layers of dust. I can't make a field hospital in here. The filth will kill more of my regiment than the enemy.

The VPHC officer looked round sourly at the doctor. The vice marshal's orders were quite specific. This area is designated for medical needs.

We could clean up, Trooper Lesp suggested. A thin, hangdog man, Lesp was skulking to one side in the doorway with Chayker and Foskin. The three of them represented Dorden's medical orderlies, troopers who had been trained for field hospital work by the chief medic himself. Gherran and Mtane, the only other fully qualified medics in the unit, were looking around behind them.

With what? Dorden asked. By the time we've scoured this place clean, the war will be over.

Lesp shrugged.