Salamander

Dak'ir returned the exertia-mitts, akin to massive chunks of smooth-hewn granite, back to the holding station. All around them warriors of 3rd Company were still training hard.

The gymnasia was a vast space. At one end stood ranks of fighting cages, currently at capacity as battle-brothers duelled one another or simply recited their close combat weapon disciplines; others took to the expansive gymnasia floor, which was dark like black granite and filled with all manner of training apparatus. It possessed an ablutions block, and the darker recesses harboured fire pits where Salamanders could build their endurance at the mercy of red-hot coals or burning bars of iron.

Dak'ir's attention was on the ballistica where Ul'shan and Omkar guided their troopers through their targeting rituals. Lok was not present and the two brother-sergeants had divided the veteran's squad members between them for instruction and accuracy assessment. Segregated from the rest of the gymnasia for obvious reasons, the battle-brothers within the ballistica's bullet-chipped confines were still visible through a sheet of transparent armourcrys.

Dak'ir had his back to him when Ba'ken spoke again.

'So, what did you see?'

Prior to his arrival at the gymnasia to guide his squad's battle-training, Dak'ir had spent several hours in the one of the strike cruiser's solitoriums. During meditation, he had experienced another dream. This one was different to the recurring nightmare of Kadai's final moments and Dak'ir's futile efforts to save him. It was not remembrance that he had imagined in his mind's theta state, rather it felt more like a vision or even prophecy. The thought of it chilled him to such an extent that Dak'ir had sought succour from the counsel of the one Salamander he knew the best and trusted the most.

Bak'en's face held no trace of suspicion or agenda as Dak'ir faced him. He merely wanted to know. The bulky Salamander was one of the strongest warriors he knew, but it was his honesty and integrity that Dak'ir valued most.

'I saw a lizard with two heads prowling in the darkness of a barren sand plain,' said Dak'ir. 'It was hunting and found its prey, a smaller lizard, alone on the dunes. It cornered the smaller creature, swallowing it down its gullet. Then it slipped away into shadow, until it too was swallowed, but by darkness.'

Ba'ken shrugged.

'It's just a dream, Dak'ir - nothing more. We all dream.'

'Not like this.'

'You think it portends something deeper?'

'I don't what it means. I am more concerned with why I am dreaming it at all.'

'Have you spoken to Apothecary Fugis?'

'He knows of it, and until Kadai's death, had watched me like a dactylid watches prey. Now, it seems, Pyriel has been appointed my watcher.'

Ba'ken shrugged.

'If it was a concern, Elysius would be your shadow and not our Brother- Librarian, and you'd be having this conversation with the Brother-Chaplain's chirurgeon- interrogators.'

His eyes grew warm and earnest.

'Perhaps it was destiny that you found that chest on the Mechanicus ship, perhaps your vision of the two-headed lizard was for a reason. I know not, for I don't believe in such things myself. I know only this: you are my battle-brother, Dak'ir. Moreover, you are my sergeant. I have fought at your side for four decades and more. That is the only testament I need to your purity and spirit.'

Dak'ir pretended that his mind was eased.

'You are wise, Ba'ken. Certainly wiser than I,' he said with a humourless smile.

The hefty Salamander merely snorted, rotating his shoulder blades to ease out the stiffness. 'No, brother-sergeant, I am just old.'

Dak'ir laughed quietly at that, a sound that smacked of rare, untroubled abandon.

'Gather the troops,' he ordered. 'Armoured and on the assembly deck in two hours.'

Already, the other brother-sergeants were bringing their troops into line. Arming serfs were poised and ready for those who had divested themselves of their battle-plate to train.

'And you will be?' asked Ba'ken.

Dak'ir was pulling on his bodyglove, over which the electrical fibre bundles, interface cables and internal circuitry of his power armour would be placed and conjoined. 'On the bridge.' He ignored Ba'ken's slight impertinence by dint of the respect he afforded the heavy weapons trooper. He knew Ba'ken's inquiry was an honest one, bereft of any insolence. 'I want to speak with the brother-captain before we make planetfall.'

'What happened to the ''Promethean way''?'

'Nothing. I want to know what he thinks we'll find down on Scoria and if he believes this mission is the boon we all hope it is.'

Ba'ken seemed satisfied with the answer and saluted, heading off towards the scalding steam jets of the ablutions chamber.

Dak'ir donned the rest of his power armour in silence, staring ahead at nothing. When the arming serf was done, the brother-sergeant thanked him and left the gymnasia. He was determined the long walk to the bridge would clear his head. The memories of the earlier dream gnawed at him parasitically as he tried to discern its meaning.

Any introspection was marred by the sudden appearance of Fugis. He had rounded the corner in the same section of the ship. Dak'ir was reminded again of their exchange outside the Vault of Remembrance in Hesiod. The melancholy shroud had not left the Apothecary then, it had merely spread.

When Fugis looked up, he gazed through Dak'ir at first and even after that recognition was delayed.

'Are you all right, Brother-Apothecary?' asked Dak'ir, his concern genuine.

'Have you seen Brother-Sergeant Tsu'gan?' Fugis snapped. 'He has eluded me since we embarked and I must speak with him at once.'

Dak'ir was taken aback at the curt tone in the Apothecary's voice but answered nonetheless. 'I last saw him headed for the solitoriums, but that was almost six hours ago. It's very unlikely he is still there.'

'I rather think it is highly probable, brother,' Fugis snarled and stalked off, without further word or explanation, towards the solitoriums.

The Apothecary had always been cold; Dak'ir had regularly been on the receiving end of his innate frigidity, but never like this. The darkness had beset him now, strangling hope and smothering optimism. Dak'ir had seen it as they'd surveyed the Pyre Desert. He saw it again as Fugis's diminishing figure was swallowed by the shadows of the long corridor.

Dak'ir gave it no further thought for now. He had business on the bridge that was best unfettered by concern for his grief-stricken Apothecary.

* * *

T

he blast doors

to the bridge parted after a biometric scan ascertained Dak'ir's presence. A diminishing hiss of hydraulic pressure escaped into