Courage and Honour

AFTERMATH

Within ten hours of the truce being brokered between tau and Imperial forces, an armada of Mantas was rising into the air above Praxedes. Cheering Lavrentian Guardsmen watched them go, and Pavonis heaved a sigh of relief at its reprieve from invasion. Under the watchful gaze of the Vae Victus, the Mantas were recovered by their fleet, which turned and departed for the Tau Empire.

The aftermath of any fighting is always costly, and, though the tau had been defeated, the price of victory had been high. Thousands were dead, and many thousands more would forever bear the horror of their wounds. Scars, both mental and physical, would be borne by every man and woman who had resisted the alien invaders.

Much of Pavonis was in ruins, and yet again the loyalty of its leader had been found wanting. No longer could the people of Pavonis be trusted to guide their destiny, and though the yoke of alien overlords would not descend, the full might of the Imperium was sure to take Pavonis in an unshakeable iron grip.

In years to come, many would believe that the wrong army had won.

Uriel watched as the lifter servitors collapsed the last of the structures that had made up Fortress Idaeus, and loaded them into steel-skinned containers on the backs of heavy flatbed crawlers. Three Thunderhawk transporters sat on the wasteland of Belahon Park on the edge of the stagnant lake, ready to clamp the containers to their bellies and carry them to the hold of the Vae Victus. Warships from nearby systems, and a rapid strike cruiser from Macragge, had translated from the warp at the system jump point an hour ago, and were even now drawing near. Their might was no longer needed, but the threat of their arrival had won the day for the Imperial forces.

The Ultramarines presence on Pavonis was almost at an end, and, as the last of the containers was sealed, the time had come to return to Macragge.

The honoured dead and wounded were already ensconced within the Apothecarion at the Vae Victus, including the terribly wounded Techmarine Harkus, whose tenacity had kept him alive throughout the fighting.

Seventy-one members of the 4th Company, all those fit for duty, stood in ordered ranks before their captain and their Chaplain. Ancient Peleus stood at the centre of the warriors, the standard of the 4th Company flapping in a stiff wind blowing in from the south. Just beyond the Ultramarines, a deputation from the senior commanders of Pavonis waited a respectful distance from the Astartes ritual of closure.

Ancient Peleus lowered the standard towards Uriel, and he dropped to one knee before it. The fabric of the standard was blackened and tattered around its edges from the fighting at Praxedes, though Uriel would swear it was nowhere near as damaged as it had been when he had last seen it.

He took the heavy cloth in his hands, and touched it to his forehead before rising to his feet. Chaplain Clausel also knelt and touched the standard to his forehead before taking up position beside him once more.

Ancient Peleus lifted the standard, and reverently rolled the fabric around the banner pole before securing it with a soft rope of blue and gold velvet.

With the lowering of the banner, the Ultramarines were no longer on a war footing, and the sergeants turned and marched their squads away to their transports.

Chaplain Clausel said, 'It is done,' and Uriel felt a curious blend of sadness and relief wash over him.

'Yes,' agreed Uriel, 'although I cannot help but feel that we leave with a job half-done.'

'What do you mean?' asked Clausel.

'We drove the tau from Pavonis, but I fear we will have to fight those same warriors again.'

'If the Emperor wills it.'

Uriel nodded, knowing that there was no more to be said. As he made to follow his men to their transports, Clausel said, 'I meant what I said before we launched the drop assault. I truly believe you have paid the price for your transgressions against the Codex Astartes.'

The Chaplain paused, and Uriel could see that the skull-faced warrior was struggling for words, something he had never expected to see.

'It seemed impossible that a man who had abandoned the teachings of the primarch could ever find his way again, but you have proved me wrong,' said Clausel.

'Thank you, Chaplain.'

'I shall be sure to tell the Chapter Master upon our return home,' said Clausel, 'and any who doubt your loyalty or fidelity to the Ultramarines shall answer to me.'

Clausel hammered his fist against his breastplate, and bowed to Uriel before turning and following the rest of the Ultramarines.

Uriel watched him go, feeling a wholeness in his heart that came from knowing that he was truly home. Though he had felt welcome upon his return to the Fortress of Hera, only now did he fell fully accepted once more.

He heard footsteps approaching, and smiled at the sight of Lord Winterbourne and Colonel Loic. Both men wore their finest dress uniforms, a vivid panoply of gold and green, cream and bronze. The three-legged vorehound padded alongside the Lavrentian colonel, and Uriel saw a glittering medal hanging from its collar.

Winterbourne saw his glance and said, 'Old Fynlae deserved a medal as much as anyone. Saved my life back in Deep Canyon Six, after all.'

'I could not agree more,' said Uriel, shaking hands with Winterbourne. 'He is a credit to your regiment.'

'Farewell, Uriel,' said Winterbourne. 'If you ever find yourself in Segmentum Solar, you'll be assured a place of honour at the regimental mess on Lavrentia.'

'Thank you, Lord Winterbourne,' said Uriel with a short bow.

Winterbourne turned to Loic. 'I keep telling him to call me Nathaniel, but he never listens.'

'It was an honour to fight alongside you, Captain Ventris,' said Colonel Loic as Winterbourne led Fynlae away. 'I'm sure my lads will be speaking of this campaign for decades. That's twice you've saved this world.'

'I hope there will not be a third time,' said Uriel, and Loic chuckled.

'You and me both, but I think we'll be fine from here.'

Uriel nodded. 'I hope so. You have come a long way since we first met, Colonel Loic. You and your soldiers have proved to be warriors of courage and honour, let no man tell you otherwise.'

Loic beamed at Uriel's words and gave him a crisp salute. 'Farewell, Uriel. Courage and honour!'

Uriel smiled and made his way towards the waiting gunships.

Courage and honour indeed.

Admiral Tiberius was waiting for Uriel when he stepped from the ramp of the Thunderhawk that had brought him from Pavonis.

Straight away Uriel saw that something was terribly wrong.

The embarkation deck was strangely quiet, the crew standing with their heads bowed, as though in mourning. An atmosphere of anger and loss pervaded the ship, and Uriel marched straight over to the venerable Tiberius.

'Admiral? What has happened?'

'News from Macragge,' said Tiberius. 'It's Tarsis Ultra.'

'Tarsis Ultra? Where we fought the Great Devourer? What of it?'

'It's gone, Uriel,' said Tiberius. 'Destroyed.'