House of the Rising Son - 2

II

"Ten millenia of war," First Remembrancer Xar muttered, "A glorious struggle to maintain and expand the Emporor's might against the the countless hoardes of xeno scum… and here we are." Xar stepped back from the window and gestured at the view beyond. The city of Pylonia spread out at their feet, an ancient and simple city on an ancient and simple world. In the distance loomed the wall that divided it down the centre. Ork Waaargh! banners plastered the fifty foot tall mountain of concrete and reinforced fibre steel, drowning out the glorious Chapter standards that Xar had helped scribe.

"Stop whining scrivener or I'll have you shot for sedition." Growled Ylar, Captain of the fifth Company of Seraphim. Xar smiled, this was his second death threat of the day which meant the towering Astartes was in a comparatively good mood.

"Our whole society is designed around warfare, it's all we know," Xar mused, "So the very idea of deliberately enforcing a stalemate on a world we could take in an afternoon's work seems… unsettling." Xar continued jovially.

"Are you quite done?" Ylar said.

"Oh I could go on, but something tells me you might actually follow through on your threats and throw me over the wall."

Ylar laughed and stood up, all eight foot of him. The sight of an Astartes still made Xar feel cold with fear. It was unsettling seeing the Emporor's vision of human perfection made manifest. It was like being in the presence of the divine Himself. Xar readjusted his habit and alighted the stool next to his tall desk. He was working on a translation for the city wall. Green-skin was such an awful language to deal with, it had even fewer words than Terran, which in comparison with the Tau or Eldar tongues seemed primitive in itself.

"One day," Ylar muttered, "The need for a stalemate will end and we'll get our war. Until then, we wait patiently and do the bidding of the Chapter."

"Indeed, and I'll be dead by then and you'll have shrivelled up from boredom." Xar said, "You weren't designed for governing."

"If it weren't for the arena," Ylar chuckled, clearly feeling uncomfortable voicing a genuine opinion with anyone who wasn't Astartes. "I might go mad."

Xar indulged him with a laugh but secretly believed every word. His role here was purely administrative, he hadn't expected to become fond of the lumbering giant. Long periods of time spent cooped up with unlikely people begot unlikely friendships. Working with a Seraphim Space Marine was on the surface an honour, but in practice it was a glorious insight into the wonders of the Emporor.

A transmission report, tucked under a mountain of tedious paperwork caught its eye. It was stamped with a priority seal.

"Interesting," Xar muttered, reading an intercepted transmission recorded from an Ork hyperlink. It didn't take much to get the gist of what it was saying. "There's a strange signal emmanating from an outlying system."

Ylar turned around, his long pure-white habit whispering in his wake. "Oh?"

"The Orks aren't interested, it seems. One of their long distance probes picked it up."

"That would put it on one of the Outer Systems, practically on the edge of the Galaxy." Ylar said, hovering over Xar. "They don't have the resources to investigate. If they had I daresay they'd be more interested in wiping us out."

"The same is true for us." Xar replied, thinking. "The interesting thing is the signal definitely isn't Ork and they can't pinpoint its cultural origin."

"A new species?"

"Or an old one." Xar muttered, rifling through a pile of notes for a communique he'd received a few days before regarding the Imperial Guard troops being garrissoned in the city over the coming months. They were harmless enough in small numbers, as far as the Orks were concerned. "We could send a squadron of Imperial Soldiers to investigate." Xar suggested, careful of the pitch in his voice.

"That could be done…" Ylar replied, his curiosity heightened, "Even if it's nothing, it'll give them something to do. Summon one of the lower Sergeants."

Xar ran his finger down the column of names on the Officer's manifest and came to the bottom. Newly promoted and as green as a sapling. "Sergeant Tyran Karr. He'll do."

**

Tyran climbed the stairs as slowly and deliberately as he could. He was coming face to face with a Space Marine. What could he possibly have done to deserve this? He hadn't offended anybody. Certainly, many of the higher officers regarded him with some disdain, but that was only natural in a chain of command.

The Astartes of the Seraphim Chapter, one of the smallest outlying Chapters in the Imperium, kept its cathedral HQ on his homeworld – technically speaking, their homeworld. Physus III was a backwater Imperial capital that was smaller than most Chapter's moons. He'd once seen picts of Ultramar and the images had blown him away. A civilian population of thirty million was nothing next to the countless billions the Ultramarines lorded over.

The door loomed in front of him ajar. Light spilled across the floor and into the dark stairwell that led from the bowels of the headquarters below.

"Come in Sergeant," the rich timbre of Captain Ylar's voice bounced off the walls. Tyran found his legs moving independently of his brain as they led him into the room where Captain Ylar kept his office. The place was a mess, the floor covered in scrolls and datapads. An official remembrancer in a rich brown habit and Imperial insignia dotted around the floor picking up stray pieces of paper.

"Good. At ease, Sergeant." Ylar appeared from the shadows, every bit the image of physical perfection. Tyran tried to relax a bit but his back didn't seem to want to let him. "I've summoned you regarding a mission I think would best suit your talents." Ylar shot a brief glance at his remembrancer who didn't seem to acknowledge it. Tyran's heart dropped in his chest – he'd only just arrived from a thrity day translation and a year long campaign. He wasn't mentally prepared for another mission. Protocol and fear stopped this from showing on his face. Much.

"Intelligence suggests that a beacon of unknown origin is broadcasting on an open channel from the Galaxy's rim. Other than that we know nothing. I would like you to take a small company of men and investigate on my behalf." Ylar finished with a brief smile. Tyran was speechless.

"I don't know what to say, Captain," he muttered.

"Of course, you wont be going alone, I can at least spare some of my Veteran soldiers to oversee proceedings. Prepare to leave within the week, Sergeant. Dismissed." And with that Tyran found his body snapping to attention like an obedient puppet and marching out.

The journey down the stairs and across the city to the nearest bar passed him by in a blur. An Astartes had hand-picked him for a mission of his own. He hadn't been punished – he was being rewarded, surely. His mind worked quickly to sift through the pieces as he strode past boarded up buildings, ancient ruins and comparatively modern elements. The streets were part road, part mud bath and reminded him of home.

Could the Captain have chosen him because he was disposable? He noted that he was only sending one Astartes to accompany them – would that be enough? Were they really that good? Then again, his ego and the arduous last year demanded he take this as a compliment and a step on the ladder to promotion. If what they said about this world was true he'd need every opportunity he could get to prove that he was worthy of greater things.

**

"You'll be going with them," Ylar said, looking Xar straight in the eyes. The remembrancer tugged at the adrenal arteries that fed into his neck. His immediate reaction was terror.

"Do you think it necessary, Captain?" Xar stammered, "I mean – what about your filing, who will do that if I'm gallivanting across the cosmos on a fool's errand?"

Ylar smiled fondly and settled a hand on Xar's shoulder, turning him gently to face the window which looked out over the city. "I need your eyes to see what I cannot. You must understand that I'm putting great faith in you Xar, more faith than I would lightly entrust to a mere mortal like yourself."

Not even an appeal to Xar's ego could counter the ball of dread in his stomach.

"How can I expect an Imperial Guard Sergeant to adequately report back on what he finds? I need you to lend your knowledge and experience to the task." Ylar continued sadly. "I wish I could go with you."

Xar tried to take heart from the confidence Ylar was showing in him, but Xar knew why his eyes were needed. The troubling nature of the signal's origin was perhaps too great a puzzle for soldiers to decipher alone. Ylar needed someone who could recognise its origin and make a decision on what needed to be done in the greater interest of the Imperium.

"Thank you for this honour." Xar muttered.

"Do not worry," Ylar boomed, turning away from the bleak view, "I am not sending you alone. Some of my best men will be accompanying you. Sergeant Karr will lead his troops and you will observe under the protection of Hyr Urukhan and Valdus Arten."

Xar smiled. He was familiar with the decorated veterans. They had so many Oaths of Moment pinned to their armour it was difficult to see the gold armour peeking through underneath. Xar resigned himself to the journey and dwelled bitterly on how much he hated space travel.