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Authors: Gav Thorpe

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'It is not my place to countermand the wishes of this council, but I have words that need to be heard,' said the Chaplain. His voice was deep, his words spoken quickly but clearly. 'Who knows better than those seated here what devastation the tyranids can unleash? Who but the Ultramarines has the experience and the knowledge to defeat this threat? More than that, who above the Ultramarines do the people of the Imperium look to for salvation from this alien menace?'

'We cannot fight every foe, no matter how much we might desire it,' said Agemman. 'Always we must weigh up the price of action. Styxia cannot be considered a more important cause than the hive-worlds and manufactories of the Vortengard Spiral.'

'In material terms, you are correct,' said Cassius, moving his gaze from one Space Marine to the next, until his eyes met those of Marneus Calgar. 'Yet it is not our place to make purely material judgements. We are the Ultramarines, Primogenitors of many hundreds of Chapters, spiritual leaders amongst the Adeptus Astartes. Our actions resonate across the galaxy, for good or ill. What are we to say if Styxia falls to the tyranids? It was a battle not worthy of our attention?'

'You do not know that Styxia will fall,' said Agemman when Calgar offered no reply. 'Nor can you say for certain that our intervention is necessary to prevent its fall. Styxia is unremarkable.'

'Perhaps your detestation of the tyranids clouds your judgement, Cassius,' suggested Captain Ixion, his voice mellow despite the accusation behind the words. 'You seek retaliation in opposition to strategic necessity. Our judgement must be of sound military basis, not founded upon emotion and personal desire.'

'Yes, I detest the tyranids!' said Cassius, thumping a hand to the tabletop, causing the whole slab to shudder. 'It is no bad thing to hate our foes with passion and conviction. You speak at this council to provide rationale and strategy. I am your inferior in this regard and do not gainsay any statements that have been made. If we are to resolve ourselves entirely by cold logic and logistics, there is no argument.'

'Yet you have another view?' asked Ixion.

'I am Master of Sanctity and it is for the honour and spirit of the Chapter that I speak,' said Cassius. 'If we do not fight at Styxia, then where would we do battle? If each action is weighed only on the merits of risk and reward, what of our reputation and the example we set?'

Cassius stepped away from the table and crossed the hall to where a broad bookcase stood beneath a tapestry showing the north facade of the Macragge senate house. The Chaplain took the first volume from the top shelf, a hefty tome the spine of which barely fitted into his giant hand. Carrying the book, he moved around the table and placed it in front of Agemman.

'The Codex Astartes,' said Cassius, stroking the book with a reverent gesture. 'Penned by the primarch. Show me, Severus, where in the wisdom of Guilliman are we told to put logic before honour?'

Captain Agemman did not rise to the bait, but instead glanced at Calgar for support. None was immediately forthcoming, the Chapter Master seeming content to keep his thoughts to himself for the moment while his subordinates aired their differences of opinion. Whether he had made up his mind and was gauging the mettle of his officers, or was genuinely waiting for them to conclude their counsel, was not obvious.

'I can turn to the pages that tell us not to waste the lives of our warriors in the cause of vanity, if you like,' said Ixion, reaching across the table for the Codex.

Cassius's hand met the captain's just before Ixion grasped the book, fingers gripping the other Space Marine's wrist. The Chaplain locked his eyes to those of the other Space Marine, his expression stern rather than angered.

'I know the pages of which you speak,' said Cassius. 'It is not a fool's errand that we face. It is not vainglory to support the soldiers and ships of the Imperium.' The Chaplain released his grip, picked up the Codex Astartes and returned to his chair. 'If not Styxia, then where? There is always some other threat, some other world to be saved. You are correct: we cannot be everywhere at once. Yet we are expected to be. What world is important enough that we would always leap to its defence? Macragge? What if Terra were under threat, would we defend even Macragge? We do not weigh the lives of men by their numbers and we do not judge the worth of a world simply by its strategic significance.'

'To what advantage would we send our warriors into this campaign?' said Agemman. 'If not strategic, nor personal, what end do we serve if we were to respond to this call above all others?'

'We give hope,' Cassius said quietly. 'Ever has it been that the Space Marines are too few to conquer every threat. Yet the truth of our existence and the hope of our intervention steels the hearts of lesser warriors and lends strength to their conviction. They hold out against impossible odds and offer up prayers to the Emperor that the Angels of Death will come. They fight harder, knowing that if they do so we might intervene. Mankind believes our Emperor to be a god, and that is both foolish and blind. Yet they also believe the Adeptus Astartes to be the instrument of His will, and that is not so ignorant. I cannot say whether the Emperor answers prayers thrown up in desperation, but I do know that the Ultramarines reply to calls for aid if it is possible. To not answer that cry for help threatens to shatter something far more precious than ore worlds and hive factories: faith in the Space Marines.'

There was no word raised from the captains against the powerful argument spoken by the Master of Sanctity. Ixion shook his head slightly as Cassius looked directly at him, while Agemman lowered his eyes, unable to meet the Chaplain's gaze. The council turned to Marneus Calgar, who had remained attentive but dispassionate throughout the exchange.

'We cannot abandon our war against the orks,' he said, raising a hand as Cassius opened his mouth to offer argument, silencing the Chaplain. The Chapter Master looked at Cassius. 'Oaths have been sworn to defend the people of the Vortengard Spiral. However, it is not right that we abandon Styxia to the uncertain care of the Imperial Guard. Our expertise could prove vital in such a campaign.'

Calgar stood up and walked around the table to lay a hand on the shoulder plate of the Chaplain.

'Cassius will lead a task force to Styxia. Company-strength, drawn from across the Chapter,' Calgar continued. 'One hundred Space Marines should be enough of a command to make the presence of the Ultramarines felt. Does that suit you?'

'It does,' said Cassius with a nod. 'I shall ask for volunteers.'

'No,' said Agemman. 'That would be unfair. There is not a battle-brother in the Chapter who would not follow you to war, and I would not have those who are not chosen feel that they have been judged against. We shall draw a force from amongst our companies sufficient for the task.'

'As I warned, materiel is scarce,' said Astersis. The Techmarine stroked his chin in thought. 'Some Rhinos and Razorbacks could be spared.'

'Take the strike cruiser Fidelis as transport,' said Calgar. 'It has sufficient berths and craft to effect a landing for one hundred warriors.'

'Your faith will be rewarded,' said Cassius. 'A hundred Space Marines is a force that will baulk any foe. The glory of the Ultramarines will be maintained, our honour upheld.'

'I will look unkindly upon unnecessary heroics,' said Calgar, his expression grim. 'We cannot afford heavy casualties at this time. I trust you not to spend the lives of the Chapter's warriors without good cause. Do not disappoint me.'

Feeling chastised, Cassius dropped to one knee and bowed his head to his Chapter Master.

'Your disappointment would be the most severe castigation I could suffer,' said the Chaplain. 'We will not fail.'

 

CHAPTER II

 

AT FIRST ENCOUNTER, Cassius thought the defence of Styxia appeared shambolic. Once the Fidelis had transitioned back into realspace and gained full sensor reports, a more coherent pattern emerged and the Chaplain evaluated his assessment of his new allies.

Four hive ships had entered Styxia several weeks earlier. One had been destroyed by the great effort and sacrifice of the system defence ships and the first elements of the Imperial Navy flotilla that had been despatched. Two others had been intercepted and turned away from the most heavily populated world, Styxia Prime, though they remained dangerously close to gaining orbit over the world.

The fourth had not been stopped. It was dead now, a gigantic carcass with a slowly depleting orbit that looked like a small, shrivelled moon circling Styxia Prime. Its destruction had been too late, however, and a huge mass of tyranids had made planetfall.

Still ten days from Styxia, Cassius ordered the Fidelis to approach at full speed, ignoring the ongoing cat-and-mouse encounter between the Imperial vessels and the two functioning hive ships. All attempts to separate the tyranid vessels from one another had failed, and the battleship and two light cruisers tasked by the Navy to halt the invasion simply did not have enough firepower to take on both foes at once. Navy reinforcements were supposedly only days away, including two battle cruisers, but there was a fear that Gorgon had not yet revealed its whole strength and other hive ships might appear at any time.

The first priority was to secure the main city of Plains Fall, which formed the hub of the agri-world's exporting capability. A city-sized starport, Plains Fall was the only vaguely defensible position on the entire planet; the rest of the population was spread thinly across the farms that provided cereal and grox meat to hungry hive-worlds light years away.

Although the Imperial Navy had not fared too well in its initial defence of the system, they had safely transported two Imperial Guard regiments to the surface before the tyranid landing: the Astcarian Fourth, a heavy infantry formation which had been bolstered by a company of Imperial storm troopers; and the Cadian 308th who had been despatched from their home world on the other side of the galaxy two years before, in response to the battles against Hive Fleet Kraken in the build-up to the war for Ichar IV.

In overall command of the Imperial defenders was General Arka, who Cassius had met before in the aftermath of Ichar IV. This heartened the Chaplain a little, as Arka was known as a capable commander and Cassius's own experience of the man had been positive. Three days from orbit, the two were able to hold a conference of sorts.

It was during this brief council of war that Cassius received further good news. Several Titans of the Legio Fortitudis had been brought to Styxia, including two massive Warlord-class machines.

The only deficiency that Cassius could see was a lack of airpower and orbital supremacy. With the Imperial Navy unable to destroy the remaining hive ships for the time being, the troops on the ground were wary of further enemy planetfalls. Though the arrival of the Fidelis was a little boon in this regard, the strike cruiser was mainly fitted out for orbital assault rather than engaging other starships. The bulk of her space was taken up with launch bays and drop-pod cascades, her weapons geared towards providing orbital bombardment of a dropsite prior to the Space Marines' assault.

During their short conversation, Arka invited Cassius to join him at Plains Fall to assist in the defence of the city. The decision had been made to pull as many inhabitants as possible back to the city, sacrificing the fields and grox farms to the tyranid swarm. Crops could be re-seeded and herds re-stocked in a short space of time, but the massed orbital elevators and docking facilities at Plains Fall would take decades to rebuild if they were overrun and destroyed.

The city had grown around three gravity lifts that soared up into the clouds. Each metres-thick cable was still working, offloading the last harvests to cargo haulers waiting in orbit, the bulk carriers elevating thousands of tonnes of raw foodstuff every few minutes while empty carriages descended. Scores of warehouses the size of hangars encircled the lifters, supplied by a steady stream of crawlers that entered along the dozen roads radiating from the transit hub like spokes of a wheel. Each highway was lined with teetering tenements housing thousands of stevedores and teamsters, overlooked from an artificial mount by the white-walled palace of the Imperial Commander, Sevastin Goul.

Fourteen landing aprons were arrayed around the central complex, linked by a maze of elevated highways and railroads that teemed with trucks and locomotives. Steam and smoke and exhaust fumes billowed around the city, creating a hazy fog that drifted lazily into the cloudy sky.

As soon as the Fidelis had attained low orbit, Cassius took a Thunderhawk down to the city. As he descended towards the main dock, the forces and preparations of the Imperial Guard were evident all across Plains Fall.

Earthworks tens of metres high were being erected around the whole of Plains Fall. Prefabricated bunkers were shipped into position slung beneath enormous tetracopters. Engineer and pioneer teams hundreds-strong dug kilometres of trenchworks and excavated dozens of revetments for mortars and heavy weapons. At each of the twelve inroads, fortified bastions were growing up from the bare earth, studded with weapons turrets and firing ports, covering the open approaches into the city.

Storage sacks had been filled with dirt and sand to make bagged enclosures on the top of the flat-roofed buildings, manned by the Guardsmen under General Arka's command. Columns of Leman Russ tanks prowled further out along the highway, while at the limit of vision, squadrons of Sentinel walkers patrolled back and forth, waiting for the first approach of the tyranids.

The Titans of the Legio Fortitudis stood guard to the north and west: a Warlord Titan at each highway supported by smaller Warhound Titans and hundreds of Adeptus Mechanicus skitarii in Chimera transports and eight-wheeled armoured cars. The adepts of the Machine-God had brought with them batteries of strange-looking weapons mounted on four-legged walking machines. Cassius recognised some of the artillery - sonic cannons, plasma launchers, lightning generators and more mundane shell-firers - while others were a bewildering array of tubes, cables and dishes whose purpose was unknown to the Chaplain.

BOOK: Catechism Of Hate
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