go on to Terra, as we originally intended.' He glanced at his first captain. 'Sigismund, my strong right arm, you will take direct command of the rest of our Legion and its war fleet. You will execute a return voyage to the Isstvan system under the auspice of a combat deployment and consider yourself to be entering hostile territory. The journey back will be difficult. Warp storms still rage in that sector and you will find the passage challenging. Go there, first captain, support our kinsmen loyal to the Emperor and learn what is occurring on those worlds.'

'If the Warmaster has turned his back on Terra, what are my orders?' Sigismund asked, ashen-faced.

Dorn's countenance became rigid. 'Tell him his brother Rogal will have him answer for it.'

FIFTEEN

The Fate of the Seventy

Sea of Crises

Rebirth

THE DEATH GUARD captain entered the tiers of the fortress's massive infirmary, and inside he found his way to the ward where Decius was being held. He approached the isolation chamber. Along with the dedication plaque that Carya had taken with him, it remained the only other component of the starship Eisenstein that had survived the frigate's destruction. Huge cargo servitors had physically disconnected the module from the vessel's valetudinarium and transplanted it to here, where Dorn's medicae could turn their skills to the warrior's injuries.

The Apothecaries of the Imperial Fists had met with no more success than those of the Death Guard. Through the walls of the glass pod, Decius seemed closer than ever to his end. The livid knife wound was a sink for his colour and complexion, fingers of pallid corpse-flesh reaching out from the injury. Seeping sores collected at the corners of Decius's lips and

nostrils, and his eyes were gummed shut with dried runnels of pus. The infection from whatever poison had soaked Grulgor's debased blade was overcoming the defences of the young Astartes, moment by agonising moment.

Garro became aware of someone standing close by. He saw Voyen's face reflected in the glass wall. 'He has spoken once or twice. His words are largely incoherent.' The other man was muted, as if he were afraid to speak to the captain. 'He calls out war cries and battle orders in his delirium.'

Garro nodded. 'He's fighting the disease just as he would any other adversary.'

'There is little we can do,' Voyen admitted. 'The virus has moved to an airborne stage of contagion in recent days, and we cannot enter the chamber to minister to him, even in fully sealed power armour. I have done what I can to ease his pain, but he's on his own.'

The Emperor will protect him,' murmured Garro.

4Ve can only hope so. Captain Sigismund has given orders that every aspect of Decius's malady is to be examined and documented by the Phalanx's medicae staff, in case the... the intruders we encountered on the Eisenstein return. I have told them everything I witnessed.'

'Good.' Garro turned to leave. 'Carry on.'

'Lord.' Voyen blocked his path, his head bowed. "We must speak.' He offered the battle-captain his combat blade. 'On the bridge, before you triggered the warp flare, I challenged you and I see now that I was wrong to do so. You promised us rescue and it came. Such defiance as mine cannot go without censure.' He looked up. 'I have betrayed your trust twice. I will accept whatever punishment you will mete out. My life is yours.'

Garro took the knife and held it for a long moment. 'What you have done, Meric, with the lodges and on the Eisenstein, did not fall from any malice in your character. These things you did through fear: fear of the unknown.' He handed back the weapon. '1 will not punish you for that. You are my battle-brother, and your challenges are why I have you at my side.' He touched Voyen on the shoulder. 'Never be afraid again, Meric. Look to the Emperor, as I have done. Know Him, and you will know no fear.' On an impulse, he drew out Kaleb's tracts and pressed them into Voyen's palm. 'You may find, as I have, some measure of significance in these.'

CODED ASTROPATHIC SIGNALS had gone before the Phalanx, high-level protocols that called to alert the most secure levels of the Imperium's forces in the Sol system. Dorn's authority was enough to set ships in motion and for troops to be put to a higher state of readiness; and there were other forces at work as well, agencies that had sensed the arrival of the star fortress and the precious cargo it carried.

Several light-minutes inside the orbit of Eris, the Phalanx exploded from a warp gate with violent concussion, sending sheets of exotic lightning radiating out and away into the void. Delicate sensory devices dotting the surface of the tenth planet registered the new arrival and immediately communicated reports to relay stations on Pluto and Uranus, where in turn they would be sent onward by astropath to Terra and her dominions. The return of the Imperial Fists to humanity's cradle was long overdue. By rights there should have been celebrations and great ceremony on many of the outer colonies of the solar system to mark it. Instead, the Phalanx came in with speed and

ruthless purpose, not in a stately cruise about the solar system's outlying worlds.

The mammoth craft did not fly the pennants and banners associated with the triumphant arrival of a heroic vessel. Instead, the colours on her masts and the laser lamps about the Phalanx's circumference were lit for urgency. Patrol ships made way, no captain daring to challenge the Master of the Imperial Fists for his haste. Drives flaring like captured stars, the fortress-vessel passed in through the ragged edges of the Oort Cloud at three-quarters the speed of light, down into the plane of the ecliptic, crossing the orbit of Neptune in a flicker of dazzling radiation.

ONCE AGAIN, GARRO was summoned to Dorn's chambers. At the rear of the great hall, massive iron panels folded away into the ornate walls, revealing a glass bowl that looked down to the command nexus of the fortress below. It was like the bridge of any starship, but magnified a hundredfold in size and scope. Garro was reminded of a stadium, with concentric rings of operator consoles raised in staggered tiers over an arena in the middle. The central portion of the command deck was a gallery of hololithic displays, some of them four storeys tall, forever glittering and shifting. Statues of armour-clad Astartes in the wargear of the Imperial Fists were ranged along the sides of the nexus, arms out as if they held Dorn's observation bowl at their fingertips.

On this level, repeater consoles were arranged so that the primarch and his officers could draw information from any post in the nexus with a single word of instruction. Garro realised that from this high vantage point, a single general would be able to direct an entire war of millions of men and

thousands of starships. He acknowledged Qraze where the Luna Wolf stood in conversation with Captain Efried and bowed before Dorn.

'You sent for me, lord?'

'I have something for you to see.' The primarch nodded to Halbrecht, a tall Imperial Fist with a sharp face and a shaved skull. 'Show the battle-captain our new escort.'

Halbrecht touched a control and a pict screen emerged from the broad console. Garro saw an image of void outside the Phalanx's hull and of a large, dark silhouette that moved in echelon with it. The structure of the other vessel was only defined by the places where it blotted out the stars: a Black Ship.

The Aeria Gloris.' It was unmistakable, and the instant Garro seized on the configuration his mind filled in the empty spaces. He had no doubt it was the same craft that had appeared near Iota Horologii.

'Correct/ said Dorn. 'This phantom joined us as we cleared the shadow of Neptune and fell in to match us in course and speed. They brought with them orders from the Council of Terra itself and directions to harbour. Specific reference was made to you, captain, and the woman Keeler. You will tell me why'