Contents

Cover

Deathwatch – Extract

A Black Library Publication

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Prologue

‘It cannot be done,’ whispered the flickering spectre. ‘It simply must not be done.’

Giants of harsh light ringed the darkened chamber, shivering intermittently from hololithic projectors. They encircled the chamber’s lone occupant, looming over him as they voiced their sanction.

‘The course you set to undertake cannot be allowed,’ said the projection of a High Lord. ‘Your mandate is to prevent the subjects of the God-Emperor from falling to such a fate.’

‘It is unthinkable,’ said another of the projections, an Inquisitorial rosette shining proudly on her uniform.

‘It is madness.’

‘It is genocide.’

‘We are supposed to protect them!’

The man at the centre of the chamber lifted a hand. The projections froze, halted in the heat of their denouncement. The man turned, watching as a lobotomised servitor shuffled forwards on legs of bronze clockwork. The servitor halted a respectful distance from the man, head low, its milky, unfocussed eyes on the floor.

‘They have arrived?’ asked the man, the pools of light from the projections failing to draw his face from the shadows.

‘Affirmation,’ choked the servitor through the iron vox grille replacing its teeth.

‘Bring them here.’

‘Compliance.’ The servitor gave a palsied bow, drooling from corpse-blue lips as it turned and limped from the chamber.

The man turned back, looking from face to face at the projections glaring upon him. He sighed. Each of them wields such formidable power, he thought. Yet none of them possesses the foresight to see what is coming. None have the conviction to do what is necessary.

The corridor leading to the chamber began to resound with the tread of heavy footfalls. The man snapped his fingers, and the glowering projections evaporated, their harsh light replaced by that of hovering glow globes. He turned back to the doorway as it slid open, framing the genhanced warriors standing beyond.

Watch Captain Artemis stepped into the chamber, encased in the sable power armour of the Deathwatch. His three companions entered behind him, wearing the same midnight-lacquered war-plate. All that distinguished the warriors were the right-hand pauldrons of their armour. Artemis wore the bone and black of the Mortifactors Chapter, while his comrades bore the heraldry of the White Consuls, Space Wolves and Imperial Castellans. The Space Marines carried massive weaponry, securely mag-locked to their armour. Stowing their weapons did nothing to diminish the aura of intimidation they exuded. They were war made manifest, the sharpest blade wielded by the Imperium of Man, and in the case of the Deathwatch, there were no deadlier hunters of xenos.

Artemis stopped a pace away from the man, shown in the light to be a slight figure of advanced age wearing simple black robes. Unmistakable, however, was the Inquisitorial rosette hanging from a chain about his neck, and the fire burning in his eyes. The eyes of a man who had condemned planets with a word.

‘Lord inquisitor,’ said Artemis, the vox grille of his helm rendering his voice into a harsh machine snarl. ‘The brotherhood of Talasa Prime has answered the call of the Ordo Xenos.’ He reached up, removing his helm with a hiss of balancing air pressure. A face of near-albino flesh and eyes of electric sapphire stared down impassively upon the inquisitor. ‘The Deathwatch stands before you in this place. Why?’

‘I have summoned you here for a grave purpose,’ said the inquisitor.

The Space Marine bearing the markings of the Space Wolves boomed with laughter, crossing his arms as he looked to Artemis. ‘Ah, this one summons us? A thin-blooded mortal who speaks as though we were his thralls.’

‘Be silent Haryk,’ said the Space Marine of the White Consuls. ‘We are all servants of the divine Emperor. The Holy Ordo Xenos of the Inquisition stands as Terra’s defence against the foul alien, as do we.’

The Space Wolf chuckled in reply.

Artemis raised a hand, and his brothers were silent. ‘It is true, you hold no authority over my brothers, inquisitor. But the crusade against the manifold xenos of the galaxy has bonded our purposes. It is in the continuance of that bond that we answer your call of our own accord.’

‘Of course, watch captain,’ said the inquisitor.

‘Now,’ said Artemis, ‘tell me of this grave purpose.’

The inquisitor smiled thinly and snapped his fingers. The glow globes extinguished, and a hololithic star chart leapt into the centre of the chamber. The image coalesced around Ultima Segmentum, in the galactic east, focusing further upon a shrouded and indistinct web of stars.

‘This is the Octarius sector. An expanse nearly as large as the dominion of Ultramar.’

‘That is greenskin territory,’ said Artemis. ‘Their so-called empire.’

‘Quite so,’ the inquisitor replied. He gestured with his hand, guiding their view away to the outer fringes of the segmentum. ‘Deep-void auguries have detected something skirting the galactic rim, pressing into Ultima.’ A crimson stripe stitched out from beyond the rim, blinking on the projection.

‘Cross-referenced with the data we have, there can be no doubt of what it is.’

The inquisitor turned to the Space Marines, his smouldering gaze locked to Artemis’ icy stare. ‘It is a tendril of the Great Devourer.’

Haryk and the White Consul exchanged glances. The inquisitor could hear the soft clicks of inter-suit vox communications between them.

‘The tyranids?’ Artemis held the inquisitor’s stare. ‘Behemoth has returned?’

‘No, this is another strain entirely. We have designated this tendril, and its hive fleet, as Leviathan.’

‘Why do you not marshal the battlefleets?’ asked Haryk. ‘Deploy the full forces at the Inquisition’s disposal against such a threat?’

‘Because you don’t have them, do you?’ said Artemis. The inquisitor said nothing as the watch captain stepped closer. ‘Cadia burns under another of the Archenemy’s black crusades. Every ship, every weapon, every mortal who can carry a weapon is being sent to repel them, bleeding the resources elsewhere white. You don’t have anything to stand against this Leviathan.’

‘And so,’ replied the inquisitor, ‘to survive we must adopt new tactics. The Leviathan will enter Ultima Segmentum. We cannot prevent that. But,’ he turned, pointing to the hololith of the advancing tyranids, ‘what if we could direct its course? Guide it away from Imperial systems, and towards those of a mutual adversary?’

Artemis noted the proximity of the tendril of Leviathan and the ork empire of Octarius. ‘You mean to force the tyranids into a war with the greenskins.’

‘Impossible,’ said the Imperial Castellan, his first words since entering the chamber.

‘Sekor.’ Artemis raised a fist, silencing the Castellan. The watch captain returned his attention to the inquisitor. ‘How?’

The image of Ultima Segmentum collapsed into shards of fractured light. In its place, a disjointed oblong of rock and twisted metal appeared, spinning slowly in the air. Artemis could see the corpses of Imperial vessels riddled throughout the object, backs broken, prows jutting from the rock surrounding them like drowning men desperate for breath. He also saw xenos vessels, some he recognised and some he could not identify, twisted among the amalgamated wreckage.

‘This space hulk translated into Ultima Segmentum eighty-six days ago,’ said the inquisitor. ‘It is travelling along the projected path of the Leviathan. I have seen the ways of the Great Devourer before. This xenos is insidious, infecting targeted systems and worlds with a vanguard in preparation for its arrival.’

‘Genestealers,’ said Haryk. ‘We have dealt with their like in the past.’

‘Precisely,’ replied the inquisitor. ‘You and your team have experience with the genestealer, watch captain. Which makes you eminently suitable for an undertaking such as this.’

The inquisitor’s servitor hobbled forth from the shadows, clutching a cylindrical device in its pallid hands.

‘This is an experimental weapon,’ said the inquisitor, taking the device. ‘Still a prototype. It emits a compact stasis field over a small area, rendering anything caught within immobile. When your team makes contact with the genestealer brood infesting the hulk, the device can be used to neutralise a number of them, allowing you to capture them alive.’

‘Alive?’ asked Haryk. He turned to his comrades. ‘Did he just say alive?’

‘To be seeded into the ork empire,’ the inquisitor continued. ‘Genestealers are the harbinger of their hive fleet, readying the path for the greater brood to descend. Seeding the captured genestealers will draw the Leviathan to Octarius. The orks have been massing in extraordinary numbers, and the conflict between both xenos could provide the Imperium decades to prepare. The enemy of my enemy–’

‘Is still a vile affront to the Emperor!’ the White Consul’s gladius was half drawn from its sheath in a moment.

Artemis placed a hand upon the White Consul’s arm. ‘Peace, Lavestus.’

‘This is heresy,’ Lavestus snarled. ‘It is our holy province to visit death upon all xenos. To do any less is betrayal.’

‘And yet it is the only chance we have to prevent the Leviathan from a full invasion of our realm.’ The inquisitor’s voice was steady, his conviction ironclad. ‘If we fail to divert them, both the ork and the Leviathan will spill into the Imperium at their full strength, with nothing to stand against them. Rynn’s World, Baal, even Ultramar will burn if we do not act.’

Rage emanated from Lavestus, a low growl scratching from his vox grille. Artemis’ eyes had never left him, his hand still clamped over the White Consul’s arm. With considerable effort, Lavestus sheathed his blade. ‘If this gambit fails, inquisitor, I will tear your limbs from you and cast you into the void.’

‘The fate of billions rests upon this moment, watch captain.’ The inquisitor met Artemis’ gaze once more, fire against ice. ‘What is your answer? Will you serve?’

The Mortifactor was silent for a few heartbeats. No emotion was betrayed on his pallid features. In a blink the glittering power sword at his hip was free of its sheath, the blade carving the air as it spun in Artemis’ grip.

The watch captain drove the blade down into the floor of the chamber, the name ‘Exterminatus’ etched in fine script down its length. Artemis’ eyes had never left the inquisitor. ‘The Deathwatch answers your call.’

Haryk snorted. ‘Eh, I was too pretty for this life anyway.’

Lavestus seethed, and Sekor remained silent.

Artemis sank to one knee, his comrades doing the same behind him. The watch captain raised his eyes to the frail man standing in the spectral glow of the hololith.

‘Lord Inquisitor Kryptman, of His Majesty’s Holy Ordo Xenos, hear now this oath of moment, bonding my blade and my blood in thy service.’

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A Black Library Publication

First published in Great Britain in 2016.
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Cover illustration by Raymond Swanland.

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