1_For_The_Emperor Read online

  'We're frakked/ Donali said.

  'Not quite/ Zyvan compressed his lips into a grim parody of a smile. 'I can still play for time. Briefly. Can you use it to convince the tau that any Guard deployment in the city is no threat to them?'

  'I can try/ Donali said, without much enthusiasm. Zyvan nodded encouragingly.

  'I can't ask for more than that/ He turned to me. 'Commissar. Would you say that the tau have reason to trust you?'

  Well of course they didn't, but that wasn't what he wanted to hear, so I nodded judiciously.

  'More than most other Imperial officers, I suppose. I did save them a bit of a walk last night/ As I'd expected, my modest joking at my own expense went down well, fitting these idiots' idea of a hero. Zyvan looked pleased.

  'Good/ he said, and turned back to Donali. You can inform the tau that Commissar Cain will be overseeing the operation personally. That might allay their concerns/

  'It just might/ Donali looked a little happier at the prospect. Which is more than I was, you can be sure. After all I'd been through the night before, the prospect of being sent back to the firing line again was agonising.

  But I was supposed to be a hero after all, so I sat there impassively sipping tea, and wondered how I was going to get out of this one.

  EIGHT

  Inquisitors? They're sneaky bastards. Useful, yes, even necessary, but I wouldn't buy a used aircar from any of them.

  – Arbitrator General Bex van Sturm.

  In the end, of course, I had no choice but to go along with it. The lord general himself had picked me for this mission, so all I could do was hope for the best and prepare for the worst. Fortunately, Donah's negotiations with the tau gave me a bit of a breathing space, and I was able to devise a plan of action which gave everyone the impression of leading from the front while staying sufficiently far back from the firing line to appreciate the full tactical overview. Kas-teen and Broklaw had been fired with enthusiasm as

  soon as I took them into my confidence, certain that the lord general's special interest in me boded well for the future of the regiment, so I was able to let them take the lead without really seeming to. Between us, we'd come up with a plan which actually looked like it might work, at least, if the bluies (as the troopers had begun to refer to the tau, picking up on the local slang) could be persuaded not to take our incursion into the city in bad faith. That, of course, was a question only the Emperor could answer, and he was otherwise engaged, so I just thumbed my palm1 and got on with the things I could do something about.

  Even then, I couldn't quite shake the suspicion that we were overlooking something important, that whatever shadowy cabal was trying to ignite a full-scale war on this worthless mudball wasn't about to give up that easily, but thinking about it only worried me, so I tried to forget it. For the life of me I couldn't see what anyone could hope to gain by forcing a confrontation, and unless you know what your enemies are after, you can't devise any counter-measures to their plans. I don't mind admitting that it irked me a little. I'm used to my innate paranoia keeping me a jump ahead of most things, but even Chaos cultists generally have an agenda of sorts (even if it's just 'kill everything on the planet') which

  1 A gesture used on many worlds in the segmentum to bring good luck or ward off misfortune. The thumb is pressed into the palm of the hand, leaving the fingers to form a stylised aquila wing.

  makes itself obvious after a while. Still, that's what we have inquisitors for, so I wished Orelius the best of Imperial luck and gave up thinking about it in favour of the best way to give the rebellious PDF units a bloody nose. This was just as well, I suppose. If I'd had a clue as to what was really going on I'd have lost even more sleep, believe me.

  They couldn't be making it easier for us if they tried/ Broklaw said with some satisfaction as he looked at die hololith. I'd prevailed on the lord general to lend us the conference suite he'd summoned me to before, citing the need to co-ordinate the input of more than one regiment, and Broklaw was as pleased with the tabletop display unit as a juvie with his first set of toy soldiers. I half expected to find it smuggled aboard the troopship when we departed. He gestured at the disposition of the xenoist units. 'What's that phrase you artillerists use? Clusterfrag?'

  'Close enough/ Colonel Mostrue of the 12th Field Artillery nodded curtly, his ice blue eyes, as always, regarding me with something akin to suspicion. Throughout my posting to his unit he'd always tried to give me the benefit of the doubt, but of all the battery officers I've come across, he'd come closest to guessing the truth about Desolatia, and never quite seemed to trust me after that. Which was extremely sensible of him when you think about it. Certainly, he'd responded with almost indecent haste on the few occasions I'd been forced to call in a barrage close to my own position, but, in turn, I'd preferred to think he was just doing his job as efficiently as

  possible. He hadn't changed a bit in the years since I'd seen him last, unlike the visible marks the passing of time had left in Divas. The major was with him too, still limping slightly after our brawl with the xenoist supporters a week or so ago, and grinned at me with the same unrestrained enthusiasm he always displayed.

  'It'll be like shooting fish in a barrel/ he declared confidently.

  'For you, maybe,' Kasteen said. 'But we'll be where the fish can shoot back.' The xenoists were lightly armed, for the most part, with nothing much stronger in terms of firepower than missile launchers, so the artillery unit wouldn't have to worry about return fire, but unfortunately they'd had enough sense to dig in, for the most part in the area around the Heights. That meant winkling the survivors of the barrage out building by building, which would be hard, bloody work if things didn't go well. Fortunately, Kasteen and Broklaw's experience of urban fighting was just what was needed here, and I hoped the men and women of the 597th would find the PDF defectors easy meat after the tyranids they'd faced on Corania.

  'We'll keep their heads down for you/ Divas promised. 'All you'll need to clean them up afterwards is a mop/ Kasteen and Broklaw exchanged glances, but let it go. Divas might have had only the vaguest idea of what city fighting entailed, but he did know his artillery, and I'd spent enough time with his unit to understand his confidence. The

  xenoist defectors had gradually linked up as they pulled back to the Heights, packing tighter and tighter into the network of boulevards and parkland around the mansions, until they might just as well have been standing there with a big target painted around their perimeter.

  'It's all a little too neat for me/ I said. 'You'd think they'd have had the sense to disperse/

  'Amateurs/ Mostrae's contempt was obvious. Like most senior guard officers, he had a low opinion of the majority of PDF regiments, although I'd come across a few in my time who could have given a Guard unit a run for their money. In this case, though, his opinion seemed more than justified. A heavy barrage would take out the majority, I had no doubt. Of course, the survivors would be well dug in and hard to shift, especially with all that fresh rubble to burrow into, but I couldn't see there being too many of them. Certainly nothing the 597th couldn't handle in pretty short order.

  Even allowing for the defectors' lack of experience, though, it seemed remarkably stupid of them to offer so tempting a target, and the tingling sensation was back in my palms. I tried to concentrate on the briefing, and not think about the undercurrents of conspiracy I was sure Orelius was tracking down even as we sat here. I had hoped to set my mind at rest by interrogating the PDF idiots who'd shot down the tau aircar, and determining once and for all whether it had been a simple act of stupidity or part of a more sinister agenda, but despite my order to arrest them,

  the perpetrators had simply vanished. Or joined the defectors, which raised even more questions I wasn't sure I wanted the answers to.

  'What do you make of this?' Broklaw asked, studying the display more closely. I followed the line of his finger, to where a platoon of loyalist PDF troopers had cordoned off a couple of blocks of an industrial
zone near the Old Quarter, and shrugged.

  'The local boys afraid to get their fingers dirty/ The icon at the centre of the cordon marked a hostile contact, but they didn't seem to be in any hurry to close the noose. Presumably some stragglers, too late to join the exodus to the Heights, I thought. That was followed by the sudden realisation that I could use this little anomaly to my advantage.

  'I'll swing by and see if I can buck their ideas up/ I said. 'It's not far out of our way/ And by the time I'd finished the extra piece of makework I'd just found for myself, Kasteen and Broklaw should have tbe xenoist survivors pretty much dealt with. If all went well, most of the dust would have settled before I got anywhere near the firing line. It seemed my luck hadn't deserted me after all.

  'Are you sure, commissar?' Kasteen was looking at me curiously, and that old expression was back in Mostrue's eyes. 'It doesn't seem all that important. Surely it can wait until we've dealt with the main force?'

  'It probably can/ I shrugged. 'But the lord general himself is trusting me to clean up this mess. I don't want a nucleus of rebellion left to deal with after

  we've broken the back of the conspiracy. I'd feel a lot happier if we knew for sure they weren't going to break out before we can get to them/

  'Good point/ She nodded. I decided it was time to lighten the mood, and smiled.

  'Besides/ I said, It's not as though any of you need your hands held. I think you know one end of a las-gun from another by now/

  Kasteen, Broklaw and Divas laughed, and Mostrue essayed a wintery grin.

  'I'd rather not divide our force, though/ Kasteen added. 'If we're going to mop up the bluie-lov… The xenoist sympathisers, I want to keep our net tight/

  Agreed/ I said. 'We'll stick to the timetable. I'll just peel off, put the fear of the Emperor into the PDF drones guarding the perimeter to make sure none of the rebels inside escape while we're busy, and catch up. I should be back with you before the fun begins/

  'I'd put money on it/ Kasteen smiled. 'I've seen the way Jurgen drives/

  She would have lost the bet, of course. I was going to make damn sure I got delayed sorting out the PDF rabble until after the shooting stopped. That was the plan, anyway. If I'd known what I was letting myself in for as a result of that little diversion, I'd have led the charge into the Heights in a heartbeat.

  Donali finally contacted us about an hour after noon, saying the tau weren't exactly happy at the prospect of Imperial Guard units running rampant in the city, but so long as I was there to keep an eye on

  things and we stuck to the plan they'd been shown, they'd let us get on with it without interference. Of course, the language was a bit more diplomatic than that, but you get the gist. I was also aware of the subtext, even before Donali helpfully spelled it out for me, that if they got so much as a sniff of treachery they'd be on our backs with guns blazing before you could say 'fubar'.

  So as you can imagine, I was feeling somewhat under pressure as the force of which I was titular head left our compound and entered the city, so much so that I wasn't even able to enjoy the unique position I found myself in.1

  As I said before, I'd had the sense to let Kasteen and Broklaw make the tactical decisions, as their experience of city fighting was rather more practical than mine, so I was pretty confident we had the right mix of resources to achieve our goal. Reasoning that the ground would be pretty chewed up by the time the artillery had finished (which I could attest to from personal experience after my time with the 12th), they'd suggested going in on foot, with a troop of Sentinels for heavy fire support. That sounded good to me, as the walkers would have a

  1 Cain is mistaken in his assumption that his position was unique. It was by no means unprecedented for a commissar to be given direct command of an ad hoc task force when circumstances demanded it, although it was, and is, an extremely rare occurrence. In fact, there is at least one instance on record of a commissar being given overall command of an entire regiment for a period of several years; albeit with the dual rank of colonel to facilitate the paperwork.

  devastating psychological effect on the shell-shocked survivors of the barrage, or, at least, I hoped so. Taking the Chimeras in close was right out, their tracks would be shredded in moments once they entered the rubble, but if they held back on the perimeter after debarking their troopers, their heavy bolters would certainly encourage any rebels still inclined to make a fight of it to keep their heads down.

  We'd debated about bringing in an armoured unit too, but decided against it. A couple of Leman Russes would have made little difference against dug-in infantry especially after Mostrue's Earthshakers had finished doing their stuff. And it would have meant bringing another regiment into the operation. Given the delicacy of the situation, I wanted to keep the opportunities for fouling things up to a minimum, and my paranoia was tingling again, warning me not to spread our plans any further than we needed to. Besides, tanks would have slowed us down, and the key to this operation was speed. Especially if I wanted it to be all but over by the time I arrived.

  'The harder and faster you go in, the better/ I concluded my briefing speech, breaking off to glare at Sulla, who'd whispered something to her neighbour and giggled. 'Are there any questions?'

  There weren't, which meant the plan was either brilliant or so fatally flawed no one could spot it, so I made one of the standard encouraging speeches I'd been trotting out by rote since the head of my old scholar had presented me with my scarlet sash and

  told me to get lost, and dismissed the sergeants and officers who started to trickle back to their squads. I caught Lustig's eye, and he grinned at me. I'd made sure his squad were assigned to the centre of the battle line, as I thought getting stuck into a proper stand-up fight would be good for their morale. Gunning down the PDF loyalists had left a sour taste in their mouths, I knew, although they were good enough soldiers to have appreciated the reasons for it. A couple had been to talk to the chaplain, but all in all, they'd held up remarkably well. I knew if they were left with time to brood on it, though, their morale might start to suffer, so it had seemed prudent to take steps quickly before the rot had a chance to spread.

  'I take it you approve, sergeant/ I said. One of the most important things I'd found over the years, and which I try to instil in my cadets these days, is that you should always take the time to talk to the troopers as individuals. You'll never make friends of them, except possibly a couple of the officers if you're lucky, and you'll never get the job done if you try, but they'll follow you a damn sight more readily if they think you care about them. And what's far more important, at least to me, is that, if they start to think of you as one of their own, they'll watch your back when the shooting starts. I've lost count of the number of times one of the grunts around me has taken out a xeno or a traitor who would have put a round in my back before I even noticed them, and I've returned the favour, too, which is why I'm well into my second century while the graveyards are full of

  by-the-book commissars who relied on intimidation to get the job done.

  'It's a good plan, sir/ Lustig nodded. 'My boys and girls won't let you down/

  'I'm sure of that/ I said. 'I wouldn't have asked for them otherwise/ A faint flush of pride worked its way up past his jaw line.

  'I'll tell them you said that, sir/

  'Please do/ I returned his salute, and looked around for Jurgen as Lustig strode off, his shoulders set. There shouldn't be any morale problems with his squad now, I thought. My aide was nowhere to be seen, so I walked towards the door, past the row of chairs where more than a dozen officers and non-coms had been sitting a few moments before. If I knew Jurgen, he'd be in the vehicle park, conscientiously checking over our Salamander.

  'Commissar/ I turned, momentarily startled by the voice at my elbow. Sulla was still seated, her face flushed with uncharacteristic nervousness. She juggled the briefing slate in her lap.

  'You have a question, lieutenant?' I asked, keeping my voice neutral. She nodded rapidly, sw
allowing a couple of times.

  'Not exactly. Sort of…/ She stood, the top of her head level with my eyes, and tilted it back slightly to speak directly to me. 'I just wanted to say…' She hesitated again, then blurted it out in a rush. 'I know you haven't formed a very high opinion of me since you joined us, but I appreciate you giving me a chance. You won't regret it, I promise you/

  'I'm sure I won't.' I smiled, a warm expression calculated to boost her confidence. 'Your platoon was my first choice for this mission, because I know they can get the job done.' In truth, it was Lustig's squad I wanted, for the reasons I've already gone into, and the rest of the platoon just came along with them. But she didn't have to know that. 'Integrating the two old regiments into a new unit has been tough on everyone, especially those of you who were thrust into positions of responsibility you weren't prepared for. I think you've coped admirably'

  Thank you, commissar.' She coloured visibly, and trotted out with a slightly uncoordinated salute.

  Well, that was an unexpected bonus. If I was any judge, she'd be so keen to justify my non-existent confidence in her that she wouldn't be making any more trouble, at least for a while. Despite the prospect of imminent combat, there was a definite spring in my step as I went to find Jurgen.

  The first part of the plan went like clockwork. We formed up in the main vehicle park, two full platoons, which I thought would be enough for the job, plus the Sentinels, which hissed and clanked their way over the rockcrete to join us like vast robotic chickens. And if you think they look ungainly, try hitching a lift on one some time. I've been in boats in a storm and felt less motion sick. Mind you, when the alternative is being ripped apart by orks, I'll take an upset stomach any time. If you think that sounds a little on the puny side, remember the xenoists only