958.M41.
THE ARRIVAL OF the Astartes was as welcome to the loyal servants of the Emperor as it was startling, many of the faithful taking their advent as a sign of His special interest in our blessed world. Indeed, many services of thanksgiving were begun in temples and chapels around the globe even before their first battle was concluded. Not that this made any difference to the fervour of the celebrants: for them, the coming battle to cleanse Viridia of heresy and worse seemed little more than a formality, since the whole galaxy knows that His Space Marines are the strong right hand of the Emperor Himself, and that once they embark on a quest in His holy name, the task is as good as done[26].
The Astartes made their first landing in Fidelis, at the palace of Governor DuPanya, losing no time in breaking the heretical siege lines which had kept the Emperor's anointed custodian of the planet confined and powerless to intervene directly in the constant turmoil of civil strife which had done so much to mar the fair face of Viridia. This done, he immediately took up the reins of his interrupted stewardship, while the Astartes swept on to even greater victories. The cathedral, always a beacon of hope in those desperate times, and therefore under constant threat from the dissident elements, was liberated within the hour, as was the shrine of the Omnissiah, freeing the tech- priests to begin ministering to the city's wounded machine-spirits with the utmost dispatch.
Perhaps the most desperate battles were those to eliminate the artillery batteries which the rebels had set up to prevent a mass landing of Imperial Guard troops, which, if left in place, would have taken a terrible toll in lives and resources. The crucial importance of this assignment can be deduced from the fact that the mission to remove one was led by the commander of the Astartes expeditionary force and his personal guard, while the task of placing a beacon to guide the teleporting strike team which destroyed the other was entrusted to none other than Commissar Cain, accompanied by Colonel Mira DuPanya, the governor's youngest daughter and a formidable warrior in her own right.
It need hardly be said that both missions ended in unqualified success, with the complete destruction of the designated targets, although one was to have unexpected and serious consequences. DuPanya and Cain's reconnaissance en route to their destination had revealed the true nature of the enemy we were facing, and, for the first time, the full extent of the hideous conspiracy gnawing away at the fabric of our society (quite literally, it seemed) became clear.
SEVEN
THE NEXT FEW days passed in a predictable blur of briefings, conferences and occasional bloodshed, as the full extent of the genestealer cult's reach became clear. Not to put too fine a point on it, the bloody things were everywhere, from the local Arbites[27] to the sanitation workers' guild, and winkling them out was a job I felt heartily glad hadn't landed in my lap. Fortunately the Guard troopships had arrived in-system on schedule, bringing a mixed bag of Tallarn, Vostroyan and Caledonian regiments with them, so there was no shortage of outsiders unquestionably free of the xenos taint to start rounding up suspects and begin the screening process.
'The trouble is,' Mira said, on one of her periodic social visits to my quarters, 'that means pretty much the entire population.' She shrugged, setting up interesting ripples in the fabric of the gown she was almost wearing, and leaned forwards to study the regicide board on the table between us, giving me the opportunity to fully appreciate the effect. She was an enthusiastic, if somewhat direct, player, an attitude she seemed to bring to all her recreational activities, and despite us having got off on the wrong foot, a surprisingly congenial companion. At least for the short time I expected to remain on Viridia. I could see her innate self-centredness would grow wearying after a while[28], although I suppose, given her upbringing, that was hardly her fault.
'The crucial thing is to purge the most influential institutions as quickly as possible,' I told her, drawing on what I remembered of the Keffia Campaign, in which all the policy stuff had taken place so far above my head it was practically in the stratosphere: in those relatively carefree days, all I'd had to worry about was rounding up the defaulters, watching our Earthshakers lob shells at an enemy too distant to shoot back, and avoiding Colonel Mostrue's occasional attempts to manoeuvre me into the firing line. (Apart from getting sucked into a stand-up fight with a horde of genestealer hybrids uncomfortably reminiscent of the one Mira and I had so recently faced together, of course.) 'Starting with the Guardians and the PDF.' Because the sooner the Viridians could begin cleaning up their own mess, the sooner I'd be able to get back to brigade headquarters and away from anything wanting to kill me; at least until General Lokris found another insanely risky errand to lob in my direction.
The Reclaimers would hardly want to hang around once the initial flurry of action had subsided, and the back of the rebellion had been pretty much broken already. There were still a few units of PDF mutineers out there, either composed of hybrids and implanted humans under the sway of the brood mind, or clinging to the ideological twaddle they'd been fed to get them to join the revolution in the first place and unwilling to admit they'd been duped by xenos, but they were hardly going to last long against Guardsmen, let alone the Emperor's chosen warriors. Gries had made no secret of the fact that he intended pulling out to look for a more interesting war as soon as the Reclaimers had finished cleansing the offworld habs, and when the Astartes left Viridia my assignment would go with them, as there would hardly be any need for them to continue liaising with the Imperial Guard.
In the meantime, I was far more comfortable than I'd any right to expect. Mira had prevailed on her father to find me a guest room in the palace, citing the need to keep me on hand as a military advisor with experience of genestealer infestations, and if he was aware of her real motives the governor was enough of a gentleman to affect ignorance of them. In fact the accommodation was too luxurious, if anything, and I'd taken to sleeping on one of the couches, the bed being too soft for me, at least for its intended purpose.
'I suppose so.' She turned one of my ecclesiarchs, effectively surrounding the king with her own pieces, and sat back, looking smug. 'My game, I think.'
'It looks that way,' I said. In truth I could probably have turned it round again in a couple more moves, but the ensuing end game would have been tediously protracted, and Mira's inevitable sulk at being made to look foolish would have put a damper on the rest of the evening. Whereas resigning now would leave her in a good mood, and ready to move on to the more enjoyable pursuits we both knew were the real reason for her visit.
So it was with somewhat mixed feelings that I heard the door of my suite bang closed, followed by the unmistakable clatter of an overstuffed kitbag falling to the carpet. Mira's eyes widened, in much the same fashion as they had when she first caught sight of the genestealers, and even before a familiar odour drifted past my nostrils I would have put a considerable sum of money on what I'd find when I turned round.
'Jurgen,' I said, a degree of warmth which surprised me elbowing its way into my voice. 'How in Terra's name did you get here?' He looked just as unprepossessing as I remembered, as if a nurgling had somehow become entangled with a random collection of Guardsmen's kit, but I was delighted to see him again nevertheless.
'On one of the troopships,' my aide said, picking his nose thoughtfully, taking the rhetorical question as literally as he did everything else. 'Then I got on the first shuttle down. The general wasn't happy about it, but I told him I was with you, so they found room.'
'I'll bet he did,' I said, knowing all too well how obdurate Jurgen could be in pursuit of whatever he conceived to be his duty, irrespective of any difference in rank or status between him and the unfortunate target of his ire. I've no doubt that without the protection the quasi-commissarial credentials his position as my aide conferred, he would have been shot on the spot for insubordination innumerable times. I indicated my guest, who seemed even more astonished that I apparently knew this apparition than she had been by his original appearance. 'This is Milady DuPanya, daughter of his Excellency, and a senior officer in the PDF. Mira, my aide, Gunner Jurgen.'
'Pleased to meet you, miss,' Jurgen said, mercifully too distant to proffer a hand. Unable to reconcile her evident civilian status with what I'd told him about her military rank, he raised a hand to the straggle of lank hair escaping from under his helmet in something between a wave and a salute, before scratching his head in perplexity. 'I thought you were with the Astartes, sir.'
'Liaising with them,' I said. 'But the main PDF command centre's here, in the palace, which means it'll be the centre of the Guard operation as well.'
