CHAPTER ELEVEN

'You see the Mark III's of Five Corps? Imperial Commander Droon asked Korvane, turning from the railing to look back at his guest, lowering the magnoculars as he did so. 'Nine entire brigades, a thousand battle tanks: the pride of the Arris Defence Force!

Korvane looked through his own magnoculars, following the expansive gesture that Droon made towards the valley floor below. He was stunned by the enormity of the procession unfolding below, although he was humble enough to realise that it was not for his benefit, it was long in the planning, that much was clear, and Korvane waited patiently for its ultimate purpose to be revealed.

Many thousands of troops having paraded by, a column of mighty armoured vehicles cruised past, ten vehicles wide and a hundred deep, command tanks with their characteristic antennae leading each. The vehicles were a spotless, factory-applied 'Codex' grey, each bearing not a vehicle, platoon or company designation, but a multi-digit serial number. Korvane was not a man of a military background, but he knew these vehicles must have been produced with some haste. A thought occurred to him.

'My lord' he addressed Droon, who was back at the gallery railing enjoying the spectacle unfolding below. 'My lord, my fleet's vessels will be hard pressed to berth the infantry and their equipment. I am unsure how we will accommodate the armoured units'

'Oh, don't worry about that, Korvane. The fact that your ships will be capable of transporting the troops and light units is service enough. The tank companies will follow the initial drop. With them we shall overran any of Luneberg's dogs that dare stand against us. I'll grind the bastards beneath our tracks, show them the folly of starting a war with Arris Epsilon'

Korvane listened as he watched the last of the tank companies grind past, followed by an entire recon regiment of gangling light walkers, each of which swivelled and dipped its cockpit in salute to Lord Droon as they passed. Droon had, on several occasions, hinted at some ongoing and bitter enmity between the worlds of Mundus Chasmata and Arris Epsilon, although Korvane knew better than to press him for details. High court etiquette demanded that such matters were only divulged at the discretion of the host, and it appeared to him that the mores by which Droon lived were similar enough to those he himself observed for that to be the case here.

As the walkers stalked past, their pilots saluting smartly from open cabs, the throaty growl of yet more armoured vehicles filled the air once more, although this sound was noticeably quieter than that of the battle tanks.

'Ah! See here, Gerrit' Droon nodded his head towards a column of armoured transports snaking its way across the valley floor, 'the First Hussars, in their new vehicles no less'

Korvane looked as instructed, and saw the vehicles. 'Chimeras? he asked, easily recognising the ubiquitous personnel carrier, utilised by security forces, Planetary Defence units and the Imperial Guard the galaxy over. In fact, several dozen languished in the Rosetta's hold, adorned in the deep red and burnished gold livery of the Arcadius, but unused for several decades.

'Chimeras, yes, most certainly, but of a pattern I doubt you will have encountered before' Korvane could not help but note the pride evident in Droon's voice, and considered it politic, even expected, to press him further.

'How so my lord? My knowledge of military vehicles is somewhat lacking'

Droon chuckled, welcoming the opening to expound on the merits of his forces. 'This pattern is drawn from a rarely used template, one that only we of Arris Epsilon may utilise. I am told that their power cores are entirely unique, in that they are motivated not by fossil fuel, but by some manner of cold atomic reaction'

Korvane looked straight at the Imperial Commander, whose eyes were fixed firmly on the vehicles below. As a rogue trader, he knew that such a thing was indeed rare, and much sought after across the Imperium. Technology, he knew, was a dark art more akin to archaeology, and it was unusual for a new device to be uncovered and utilised. If Droon's people had access to some unexploited technological resource, then the possibilities for trade and exploitation were potentially staggering.

Droon was addressing Korvane once more, pointing towards the lead vehicle. It appeared to be some command variant, for in place of an enclosed passenger compartment and forward turret, the entire rear of the vehicle was open. A group of men stood within that section, their uniforms marking them out as high-ranking officers, although even these were plain in comparison to those worn by the lowest ranked troopers in Culpepper Luneberg's household guard. However, it was not the officers' uniforms that Droon was indicating, but a banner one of them held.

'The standard of the First Hussars. Droon announced, his tone indicating that the banner carried particular significance.

Korvane turned a dial on the side of his magnoculars, increasing the magnification, which allowed him to make out the banner. It was a simple standard, far simpler in fact than many that Korvane had seen. Having walked the approach to the Eternity Gate on Sacred Terra, the long avenue lined with countless thousands of banners bearing witness to ten thousand years of total war, Korvane could not help but feel distinctly unimpressed by the decidedly plain standard of the First Hussars.

'You see the honours listed upon the standard? Droon asked, Korvane squinting to make out the details on the fluttering banner. 'Each is a victory over our pernicious enemies, but the last honour has yet to be won.

Korvane saw that at the bottom of the banner's face a scroll devoid of text awaited the embroidery that the others shared. Each listed the title and date of some noteworthy battle in the history of the First Hussars, probably, Korvane realised, in the history of Arris Epsilon itself.

'That honour will be won now, Korvane, do you see?

'Indeed, my lord' Korvane answered, reading the list of battles. Each one, he realised, had been fought against the forces of Mundus Chasmata, and each had been given a grandiose tide such as the 'Siege of the Three Dominions' or the 'Relief of the Outer Nine'. Korvane cast his mind back to the introduction given to his family and himself when they first went before Imperial Commander Culpepper Luneberg. The titles given to the ruler of Mundus Chasmata matched those mentioned on the Standard of the First, although each was presented in a decidedly different light.

'You see, Korvane, that the attack we launch is far from some petty border clash' Korvane said nothing, conscious that Droon was on the verge of communicating something of great import. 'Epsilon and Mundus Chasmata have been locked in ongoing disputes for centuries, millennia perhaps — it is hard to say exactly when things started to get… unpleasant'

'Your records are incomplete on the subject? Korvane asked, knowing that many historical archives were missing great swathes of information, so long and fractured was the history of the Imperium.

'Incomplete? Oh no, Korvane, not incomplete' Droon watched the passing personnel carriers wistfully, the standard of the First receding into the distance. 'Our histories are very specific on the matter of the grievances between our two worlds, each has been recorded in great detail. It is more a case of tracking the escalation, for each time Epsilon's forces have laid a debt of honour to rest, mose of Mundus Chasmata have retaliated once more, and so the debt is renewed'

'I understand' said Korvane, beginning to appreciate the nature of the conflict between the two worlds and their ruling dynasties. He let Droon continue his explanation.