Contents

Cover

Farsight: Empire of Lies – Extract

A Black Library Publication

eBook license

CHAPTER ONE

THE PATIENT HUNTER

VARNAD WASTES
VIOR’LOS

Commander Farsight weighed his honour blade as he surveyed the horde of orks charging up the ridge towards him. With his pulse pistol held lightly in his other hand, the t’au commander adjusted his stance an inch, relishing the sensations of the equatorial desert’s sand trickling between his broad, hoof-like toes. The Vior’los sun beat down on his leathery grey skin, keeping his war spirit hot.

It was glorious, this moment. The meditation before the lightning strike.

‘First target, shas’o?’ he asked Brightsword.

The young warrior straightened a little at his side, uncomfortable without his signature XV8. He had accented the rectangle of his sinistral shoulder armour with stylised blue flames, a youthful affectation to mirror that of his famous battlesuit.

‘Crux point of body mass and proximity, then descending order as usual, wise one,’ said Brightsword. His smooth, bald head twitched like that of a hunting bird as he read the horde’s disposition and leadership structure. ‘Though perhaps “patronising one” would be more fitting.’

Still work to do with this latest clone, thought Farsight. Brightsword’s pride ran deep in the genes. ‘We shall discuss appropriate responses later. Ob’lotai?’

A large disc-drone in gleaming black dipped its rim in salute, its profusion of antennae swivelling as the artificial intelligence tracked the oncoming enemy. ‘Maximum disruption, commander. Retain high ground. Isolate and confound.’

‘Just so,’ said Farsight. He gave a curt nod. Though the pupil had long ago become the master, his original battlesuit tutor – or rather the AI that replicated him – was reliable as a master-forged blade, even outside his Broadside battlesuit.

The charging beasts were perhaps twenty metres away, bellowing loud and frothing at the mouth as their heavy-set walkers stamped up the ridge behind them. Farsight could not smell them, despite the fact he was downwind. He made a mental note to consult O’Vesa after the battle; every sensory datapoint was important. He tensed his muscle groups, relaxed, and tensed again, feeling the reassuring weight of the pistol in his hand.

His heart pounded. This was it.

‘Are you sure about this, high commander?’ asked Brightsword.

‘The sight must be seen.’ He swallowed. ‘As much for the water caste’s dronecorders as for Master Puretide’s memory.’

An electric moment passed, one last breath before the killing began.

‘Kauyon,’ said Farsight.

The first shot was Brightsword’s. A tiny sphere of plasma sizzled into the open jaw of a monstrous ork, blowing its brain out the back of its bald green head. Farsight broke left as the giant tumbled into the dirt, two more of the bestial things tripping over its corpse. The greenskins close behind leapt, axes raised against the harsh blue sky. Farsight shot one in the forehead even as Brightsword bullseyed the other.

Ob’lotai 4-0’s droneform rose smoothly upwards, hidden compartments on the hovering disc’s underside sliding open. Miniature smart missiles shot from within. Each the size of Farsight’s index finger, they detonated amongst the ork ranks, causing a string of perfectly placed explosions that sent liquid flame and gobbets of dark fluid spraying in all directions. The foremost aliens were hurled back from the ork front line, but the greenskins behind flowed around them, Ob’lotai’s firestorm forming a bulwark that slowed their assault but did not stop it.

Farsight glanced over at Brightsword, just for a fraction of a second. The young commander was moving smoothly along the ridge, taking placed shots one after another as the orks scrambled up towards him. So far, the ratios looked good. They were leading them, misdirecting them, robbing them of momentum.

‘Coldstar, attend me, please,’ said Farsight. His XV8’s own artificial intelligence gave a brief blip of acknowledgement via his ear bead cadrelink. Farsight nodded curtly. ‘Commander Bravestorm, move in. The bait is taken.’

‘Inbound,’ came Bravestorm’s curt reply. The cadrenet carried his throaty tones so clearly it was as if the hero of Blackthunder Mesa were standing right next to him.

Despite their slowed advance, the orks were getting too close, braying and roaring so loudly it offended Farsight’s ears. One of them lunged for him, but he had read its stance, and was already ducking beneath it, taking its legs with a tangle-trip he had mastered on Arkunasha. He came up in a smooth half-circle that saw his pistol lined up perfectly with another of the beasts. The shot took the top of its head clean away even as he pivoted on his heel to bat aside the weapon of another.

A massive warrior-leader shoved its way through the throng, bawling for its kin to follow it. Farsight shot it in the chest, then chided himself. That tactic would stop a human, but not a charging ork. He adjusted his aim a fraction and shot it in the throat instead.

Still it came forward, half its neck missing and its engine-axe revving so the dirty metal teeth whirred along its edge. The boxy pistol in its other hand bucked violently as it disgorged a clatter of solid shot. One bullet clipped Farsight’s pulse pistol, jerking it out of his hands and shocking his fingers with a ripple of pain. The pistol skidded down the slope behind him. Instead of retrieving it – a fatal mistake at such close quarters – he readied his Vior’lan honour blade in the Stance of Seven Deadly Cuts.

The sword felt unfamiliar, almost like an enemy in itself. He had not used such a primitive weapon since those days on the slopes of Mount Kan’ji, decades ago. He remembered asking Master Puretide, as a youth – with the earth caste’s technology, why would they ever need a blade?

The giant ork stormed in, swinging its engine-axe. Sand shifted underfoot at its sheer weight. Farsight’s parry was off-kilter. His blade was batted aside as if it were no more than a thin reed. The commander leant over with the momentum, placing one hand down on the sandy dune before pushing himself back up after the juddering, saw-toothed axe roared overhead.

Well inside the ork’s guard, Farsight reversed his grip on the sword and rammed it upwards with the point under the beast’s chin. It pierced the thing’s lantern jaw, came out of its eye, and withdrew in a spatter of red.

Critically, it missed the creature’s brain.

The commander felt the beast’s knee hit his gut, then took a backhand blow to the chest that sent him sprawling backwards with the longblade spinning from his hand. Reeling, the high commander saw something coming in fast from his left: another ork, which shoulder-barged him on its way towards Brightsword. He fell, spinning, to the ground. The giant closed in. The Vior’los sun disappeared behind the creature’s bulk as it raised its axe.

Disarmed and on his back, Farsight reached for the sword, scrabbling in the sand and finding nothing for a terrifying second.

A vision seared through his mind, bursting from some hidden mental scar he thought long healed since an Imperial warp drive had addled his mind in the Damocles Gulf. He saw a world of broken statues, and a flat disc of fire. He was reaching for a far larger blade as a red-skinned monstrosity bore down on him, screaming its war cry as skulls rattled on the chains bound to its wings.

Blood for the Blood God.

Then his gauntlet closed around the honour blade’s hilt.

Farsight shook his head and knelt as he took up the sword, bringing it round to lock his muscles in the Guard of Stone. This time the angle was true, and the power of the ork’s blow was turned against its wielder. The honour blade, its edge the sharpest the earth caste could devise, cut straight through the metal of the ork’s axe, sending the engine-blade thudding into the sand.

The ork growled. It swung the axe’s heavy steel haft anyway, and hit Farsight hard.

The force of the impact hurled him away, bright Vior’los daylight lancing into his eyes as he flew through the air. Through the pain he had a flash of memory – Mount Kan’ji, and harsh lessons under a punishing sun.

‘Reinforce,’ he gasped.

There was a sudden sense of displaced air, the sound of jetpack engines ripping the hot sky. Farsight heard hissing hydraulics from behind him as he fell backwards off the ridge’s crest. His ribs burned and his lungs emptied of air as he slammed into the control cocoon of his customised XV8, but he squared his shoulders on instinct as it compensated for his weight. As restraint bars slid around Farsight’s torso, a spike of old pain came from his hip, where the flesh met his cybernetic leg: a reminder of a battle lost to Arachen skitterlings long ago.

Stunts like this were the province of younger warriors, but he had a reputation to keep.

Coldstar swung the facia of the control cocoon up into place, hex-screens leaping into life as the battlesuit overlaid a dozen targeting solutions across the ork horde below.

‘Your emergency boarding lacked finesse, commander,’ said the suit’s artificial intelligence, her voice smooth and calm. ‘Unlike that of Commander Brightsword. I will play your protégé’s version of the manoeuvre during the next down cycle.’

‘Truly an incentive to stay alive,’ said Farsight, already designating kills with practised eye-flicks and microgestures as he shifted his legs backwards. He triggered his fusion blaster, and twin beams of white light seared out to mingle as a blade. It neatly bisected the hulking ork leader that had broken his ribs.

He smiled despite himself. It was invigorating to go from the most simplistic and vulnerable interpretation of the Way of the Short Blade to its ultimate expression – the true might of the Hero’s Mantle. The artificial intelligence he used to bolster his own XV8, ported across from the experimental Coldstar-class voidsuit he had used during the first crossing of the Damocles Gulf, knew full well how valuable she was to the T’au’va. Farsight had come to appreciate her company. Though he had never admitted it to himself, her clipped tones reminded him just a little of Shadowsun.

He leaned forward, and the custom XV8 tilted in response as it rose up and over the ork front ranks, spitting bright plasma. Ob’lotai 4-0’s droneform rose alongside him. The orks below were hit one after another by plasma bolts and micro-missiles, each coming apart in sizzling bursts of dark blood.

Already the tide had been robbed of its focus. It was more a milling crowd now than the front line of an army. Desultory pistol fire shot up towards them, smacking into the legs of Farsight’s XV8 but causing no real harm. A red-coned rocket, self-propelled and whirling in a corkscrew of white smoke, missed him by an arm’s length; another detonated ten metres short of its target. He saw Bravestorm take one on his shield generator, a dome of bright blue light and orange flame crackling around the arm-mounted disc as the rocket detonated prematurely.

Three more of the ork missiles were spiralling towards Brightsword. The young commander was still fighting at close quarters, slashing his fusion beams through the scissoring limbs of a piston-driven walker much like those they had faced on Arkunasha.

‘Should we intervene, high commander?’ said Coldstar.

‘No,’ said Farsight. ‘Brightsword has proximity alerts, just like us.’

At the last minute, just before the ork rockets hit home, the bulky warscaper drone that O’Vesa had gifted Brightsword emitted a halo of light. It gave a pulse of gravitic energy, and all three of the ork rockets were pulled downwards at the last moment as if yanked by invisible hands. They detonated amongst the greenskin horde beneath with a series of satisfying bass thumps.

Red dots on Farsight’s damage control suite flared briefly as a smattering of bullets pinged from his suit. One by one they turned silver as his AI categorised them as purely cosmetic damage.

‘Do they really only use such primitive technologies?’ asked Coldstar. ‘How are they space-capable?’

‘They are a contradiction, these be’gel,’ said Farsight, target-looping the largest orks from the horde below before sending sizzling bolts in to slay them. ‘I know them well enough from ten long tau’cyr of war upon Arkunasha, and yet sometimes I feel I do not know them at all. They have far more sophisticated weaponry in their arsenals, though given their scarcity, I am not sure they know how to mass-produce them.’

‘Please clarify.’

‘The be’gel are a race of idiot-savants, especially regarding their relationship with technology. Their speech patterns show a rudimentary intelligence at best. O’Vesa’s theory is that they rely on intuition more than learning, but that their warrior caste has kept enough understanding to function as an empire of sorts. They are a random force in the cosmos.’

‘A plausible conclusion,’ said Coldstar. ‘It troubles me that we have not yet extinguished them from the galaxy.’

Ten metres beneath him, he saw Commander Bravestorm swinging his onager gauntlet in great crackling arcs into a knot of hulking ork leaders, deflecting the fiercest counterstrikes with his shield generator whilst simply letting the other blows rebound from his iridium suit’s impervious alloy. Every impact of the commander’s great fist smashed another ork so hard it came apart in an explosion of blood. Nearby, the young warrior Brightsword had re-engaged the front line. In the full throes of combat he appeared to be a spinning fire-wheel of fusion beams that carved through orks by the dozen. He dodged, weaved and leapt, his mastery of the XV8 truly impressive.

‘I would like nothing more than to see the entire race eradicated,’ said Farsight. His plasma rifle dealt its carefully measured fury in a triple burst, each of the three bolts sizzling into the scalp of one of the orks below. ‘We tried it, once. We tried everything, starting with diplomacy, as ever. Eventually the water caste was forced to admit defeat. The orks seek not peace, only to revel in conflict of all kinds. Ultimately the ethereals decided to leave them well enough alone.’

He eye-looped an ork leader, swiping the blade of his hand right, and his fusion blaster echoed the movement, cutting the beast in two at the waist.

‘Yet I believe we cannot ignore them, especially in the enclaves. They must be exterminated before they can derail our entire expedition. If they encroach on the outer worlds, they must be hurled back immediately, or we risk the worst.’

‘And that is?’

‘A gathering of lethal momentum that the orks call a Waaagh! in their own tongue. It is a descriptor and war cry alike, shouted at maximum volume. Commander Bravestorm is experiencing just that, in microcosm. Observe.’

The sheer numbers of the greenskin horde beneath them began to overwhelm Bravestorm, for though he was killing with each punch of his famous onager gauntlet, and though his flamer was blasting back dozens at a time, he could not face every direction at once. The orks bellowed as one, surging forward. One, two, three of the beasts leapt on his back. The Dal’ythan commander boosted upwards with an ungainly leap, batting aside an ork climbing over his shoulder and kicking away another that grasped at his iridium XV8-02’s legs. One still straddled his shoulders, hacking at his sensor head with a crackling power axe. Farsight dropped a crosshair over it and decapitated it with a shot from his plasma rifle, the intense heat of the shot cauterising its neck.

‘My thanks,’ said Bravestorm as he rose high on his jetpack’s pillar of thrust. ‘He was in my blind spot.’

‘Even when using the Way of the Short Blade, keep them at arm’s length.’

‘Noted, high commander.’

Nearby, Brightsword’s fusion blades were flickering and spitting, an indication they were running out of power. They burned bright, hot, and briefly – not unlike their wielder, thought Farsight.

The first Brightsword had been killed back in the Imperial assault upon Dal’yth Prime, all but cut in half by the axe of a gue’ron’sha executioner-captain. It was fortunate for the fire caste that Farsight’s pupil had been chosen for the earth caste’s cloning programmes a short while before his original incarnation’s death.

The young commander leapt high, disengaging with a well-placed kick that crushed an ork skull as a parting gesture. He had taken his life in his hands, as ever, and yet extricated himself in style. Perhaps overconfidence was a side effect of the cloning process.

With all three battlesuits safe from earthbound attack and Ob’lotai’s droneform lending fire support close by, the engagement had reached a natural end. From a mid-range aerial vantage point, with the sun behind them, the battlesuit pilots were safe from all but the heaviest weapons fire – orks were famously inaccurate, and their high-calibre weapons few and far between.

They had enacted a passable Kauyon from a standing start, even outside the Hero’s Mantle, and taken only superficial damage in return. Yet Farsight could not shake the feeling that the finer details of the war form still eluded him.

Shadowsun would have done it so much better.

‘Cease engagement,’ said Farsight. The orks froze, then dispersed slowly into a wide grid. ‘Tally?’

‘Sixty-three before disengagement,’ said Ob’lotai. It was a new record, and one that the water caste would crow about as an exemplar of the Kauyon unless Farsight expressly requested their silence. He knew full well it was still a drop in the ocean against a full horde.

‘O’Vesa, your conclusions, please.’

‘At once, high commander.’ The icon of the Stone Dragon unfurled on one of Farsight’s hex-screens, replaced by the broad, flat face of his foremost ally in the earth caste. He was grinning obsequiously, making the open-handed gesture of the friend-eager-to-help. ‘Were the proxies to your taste?’

Farsight scowled at the overly direct question. He leaned forward to send Coldstar speeding over the ork horde, feeling his ribs grind in his chest. ‘They are convincingly violent,’ he said. ‘Though the olfactory elements were conspicuous by their absence.’

O’Vesa’s smile grew stale, then dropped away altogether. ‘Olfactory elements? Is a full sensorium emission really necessary?’

‘The higher the authenticity of the engagement, the greater its use. You should know that.’

‘It is not that we cannot make a reasonable representation of their porcine stink, of course. It is just that since the autopsy incident on Arkunasha, I find it distasteful in the extreme to simulate their–’

‘Distasteful?’ interrupted Farsight. O’Vesa’s experimental autopsy procedure had seen an ork leader-creature inadvertently brought back from the dead, and his friend Ob’lotai had been killed in the ensuing brawl before Farsight put the ork down for good. ‘You, who not only brought about the death of Ob’lotai, but engineered that of Master Puretide himself? You find your duties distasteful?’

‘The Puretide operation was at the express command of the Ethereal Aun’Va, high commander,’ said O’Vesa, taken aback. ‘Did you not place the prototype mind-scan device upon his crown for the very same reason?’

Farsight felt bile rise in his chest. He drew crosshairs over three more orks, and for a moment contemplated triggering them, even though the exercise was long over. Something in him wanted to spill their blood in person.

‘There is truth there, I admit,’ he said, forcing his anger to dissipate. ‘Just ensure the facsimiles are as true to the source specimens as possible, in every way, please. How else can we justify such an experimental cross-caste endeavour?’

O’Vesa nodded, chastened, as Farsight continued.

‘Even a small detail might save the lives of those destined to fight the be’gel in actuality. If we are to make the enclaves safe, we must know the foe as we know ourselves.’

‘Of course, high commander,’ said O’Vesa. Then his face lit up. ‘Do you need more bipedal ork war machines against which to hone your doctrines?’

‘They pose little challenge, in truth.’

‘A shame. Manufacturing such crudity is proving an entertaining challenge. Do you have any other observations as to verisimilitude?’

Farsight looked to one side, trying to put into words a feeling that lurked on the edge of his consciousness. ‘The orks on Arkunasha engaged us in many different theatres of war, at times inflicting heavy casualties. They are adaptable, this we know. More adaptable than we give them credit for. I cannot help but feel we are missing something.’

‘If you can be more specific…’ O’Vesa made an apologetic grimace. ‘I have read your famous Book of the Beast many times, and thrilled at its insights. Yet I feel I have reflected everything within it to the best of my ability.’

Farsight shook his head. ‘It is no single factor, or behaviour, that I could outline to you. Perhaps it is something elemental. Some indefinable quality lacking from our simulations.’

‘Perhaps.’ O’Vesa nodded. ‘They are so foreign to me.’

‘And me, in truth. In itself, lack of knowledge about alien races is not a crime. Yet the be’gel must not be underestimated. Their defining feature is their lust for war, and they are built for it, even on a microscopic level. They cannot be allowed to survive, to multiply, on the borders of our empire. It is akin to letting a starving snow lynx prowl the slopes of a mountain settlement without concern.’

‘Or rather a pride of them,’ interjected Brightsword.

‘Indeed. The orks will savage us the first chance they get. They are our first priority. We know from experience the retribution of the Imperial humans is slow in coming–’

‘And can be repelled,’ said O’Vesa, making a clumsy attempt at the blade-that-parries with the flat of his hand.

‘Just so. Yet the orks are mercurial, surging into outright war on the slightest pretext or opportunity. It is imperative they are dealt with first.’

‘Despite the ethereal caste having declared that we will complete the purge of the Imperials from enclave space?’

O’Shovah inclined his head. ‘Is it not possible, in theory, to do both?’

‘In theory, of course,’ said O’Vesa. He did not sound convinced.

‘Not yet,’ said Farsight, twisting the last ring of his scalp lock in his fingers. ‘How goes the war in the Vorac Belt?’ He knew the answer well enough, but needed to hear it nonetheless, and the change of subject would be welcome indeed.

‘The railgun is a wondrous thing,’ said O’Vesa. ‘We outrange them by several orders of magnitude. I understand our kill-to-loss ratio in the asteroid field is in the multiple hundreds.’

‘An imprecise summation, for the Stone Dragon.’

‘I have been concentrating my efforts on the ground war, high commander,’ said O’Vesa. ‘There is little to be gained from applying my ingenuity to a theatre of battle that is not within my sphere of influence. You had best address the air caste for information regarding void engagements.’ All levity had gone from his expression; he made a perfunctory sign of contrition, but the laxity of the gesture put the lie to it.

‘Of course. My thanks for today.’ Farsight made the closed-hands sign of farewell in good order, wincing as his ribs sent a pulse of pain through his chest.

‘You are hurt,’ said O’Vesa. ‘You should report to the med-suites immediately.’

‘I have other duties to attend to.’

O’Vesa shook his head. ‘I thought fire was supposed to be unpredictable.’ The scientist’s hex-screen holo folded in on itself to vanish altogether.

Mentally composing himself, Farsight tapped the inverted triangle of the air caste. A moment later, a golden bird of prey symbol that demarked the enclaves’ high admiral enlarged from his residual display, then unfurled like a paper sculpture being unmade to become the blue-grey visage of his old friend turning to face him.

‘Kor’O Li Mau Teng,’ said Farsight. ‘May the light of the T’au’va shine upon you. How fares the defence initiative?’

‘All parameters have been met thus far,’ said Li Mau Teng, features creasing into a smile. Farsight had always found the admiral’s bonhomie half-reassuring, half-infuriating. ‘Though I have news that would be better imparted face-to-face.’

‘Is that so?’ said Farsight. He angled his flight path for the exit zone of O’Vesa’s vast testing ground. ‘The command link is secure. Do not keep me in suspense. The threshold of our airspace is still contested, I take it?’

‘Trust me,’ said the elderly admiral. ‘We need to speak face-to-face.’

‘With all due respect, high admiral, can you not send a compile? I am in the middle of a cross-caste debrief, and even with the finest ZFR horizon drive it will take days to reach you out there in the Vorac Belt.’

‘Of course!’ came the cheerful reply. ‘I shall jump right to it, oh most wondrous leader of all. I feel sure the water caste can put a spin on why your mock wars meant you were too busy to attend to the front line in person.’ The admiral grinned widely, his eyes twinkling.

Farsight sighed. ‘Teng, I do not feel the best place for a hunter cadre commander is on the bridge of a spaceship. Perhaps, as leader of the entire expedition, my opinion will carry at least a little weight.’

‘You certainly carry more weight than you did back on Arkunasha,’ said the admiral, chuckling. ‘So dashing, back in those days. Though I myself will be disconsolate at your refusal of my invitation. I might never forgive you for spurning me. The ethereal caste will understand, I am sure. I hear Aun’Va is known for his relaxed attitude to duty and his frequent indulgences of disobedience.’

Farsight laughed, despite himself. When it came to dealing with Li Mau Teng, he always had a feeling he was losing at a game before it had even started. ‘Aren’t you too advanced in years for the duel of words, Teng? Surely it is time for your diurnal sleep break, and perhaps some pre-masticated food?’

‘My thanks, commander, but I am still fighting fit,’ said the admiral. His gnarled hands formed the clenching fist and turning palm of tortoise-outliving-dunerunner. ‘Especially as I wage my wars from an even comfier seat than you do. It is a wonder you do so well, with only the best technology in the T’au Empire and its finest warriors to protect you.’ The admiral smiled ruefully, the kind wrinkles around his eyes reminding Farsight of Aun’Shi. ‘You realise high rank carries obligations to the wider caste structure?’

‘I do.’

‘Of course you do,’ continued Teng. ‘Better than any, perhaps. Many of my junior teams have holos of you looking square-jawed and heroic in their living quarters, I am told. It would so crush them for you not to attend our rendezvous.’

‘Fine,’ said Farsight, setting a new course for the Kor’lacanth airbase. ‘But only for the benefit of your junior teams’ morale. I may even jut out my jaw for them.’

‘Excellent,’ said Li Mau Teng. ‘There is already a shuttle waiting for you. See you in the belt, old warrior.’ He smiled again. ‘Incidentally, I have made provisions for a Coldstar battlesuit to be accommodated in the Wing’s cargo hold. I know how void war discomforts you so. I’ll even let you bring your little bonding knife onto the bridge if you like.’

‘Get some rest, Teng,’ said Farsight, twitching a finger towards the communion icon for Kor’lacanth. ‘I have a feeling you will need it.’

Click here to buy Farsight: Empire of Lies.

A Black Library Publication

First published in Great Britain in 2020.
This eBook edition published in 2020 by Black Library, Games Workshop Ltd, Willow Road, Nottingham, NG7 2WS, UK.

Produced by Games Workshop in Nottingham.
Cover illustration by Marc Lee.
T’au icons by John Michelbach.

Farsight: Empire of Lies © Copyright Games Workshop Limited 2020. Farsight: Empire of Lies, GW, Games Workshop, Black Library, The Horus Heresy, The Horus Heresy Eye logo, Space Marine, 40K, Warhammer, Warhammer 40,000, the ‘Aquila’ Double-headed Eagle logo, and all associated logos, illustrations, images, names, creatures, races, vehicles, locations, weapons, characters, and the distinctive likenesses thereof, are either ® or TM, and/or © Games Workshop Limited, variably registered around the world.
All Rights Reserved.

A CIP record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN: 978-1-78999-330-1

This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

See Black Library on the internet at
blacklibrary.com

Find out more about Games Workshop’s world of Warhammer and the Warhammer 40,000 universe at
games-workshop.com

To Emily. Two down, one to go...

eBook license

This license is made between:

Games Workshop Limited t/a Black Library, Willow Road, Lenton, Nottingham, NG7 2WS, United Kingdom (“Black Library”); and

(2) the purchaser of an e-book product from Black Library website (“You/you/Your/your”)

(jointly, “the parties”)

These are the terms and conditions that apply when you purchase an e-book (“e-book”) from Black Library. The parties agree that in consideration of the fee paid by you, Black Library grants you a license to use the e-book on the following terms:

* 1. Black Library grants to you a personal, non-exclusive, non-transferable, royalty-free license to use the e-book in the following ways:

o 1.1 to store the e-book on any number of electronic devices and/or storage media (including, by way of example only, personal computers, e-book readers, mobile phones, portable hard drives, USB flash drives, CDs or DVDs) which are personally owned by you;

o 1.2 to access the e-book using an appropriate electronic device and/or through any appropriate storage media; and

* 2. For the avoidance of doubt, you are ONLY licensed to use the e-book as described in paragraph 1 above. You may NOT use or store the e-book in any other way. If you do, Black Library shall be entitled to terminate this license.

* 3. Further to the general restriction at paragraph 2, Black Library shall be entitled to terminate this license in the event that you use or store the e-book (or any part of it) in any way not expressly licensed. This includes (but is by no means limited to) the following circumstances:

o 3.1 you provide the e-book to any company, individual or other legal person who does not possess a license to use or store it;

o 3.2 you make the e-book available on bit-torrent sites, or are otherwise complicit in ‘seeding’ or sharing the e-book with any company, individual or other legal person who does not possess a license to use or store it;

o 3.3 you print and distribute hard copies of the e-book to any company, individual or other legal person who does not possess a license to use or store it;

o 3.4 you attempt to reverse engineer, bypass, alter, amend, remove or otherwise make any change to any copy protection technology which may be applied to the e-book.

* 4. By purchasing an e-book, you agree for the purposes of the Consumer Protection (Distance Selling) Regulations 2000 that Black Library may commence the service (of provision of the e-book to you) prior to your ordinary cancellation period coming to an end, and that by purchasing an e-book, your cancellation rights shall end immediately upon receipt of the e-book.

* 5. You acknowledge that all copyright, trademark and other intellectual property rights in the e-book are, shall remain, the sole property of Black Library.

* 6. On termination of this license, howsoever effected, you shall immediately and permanently delete all copies of the e-book from your computers and storage media, and shall destroy all hard copies of the e-book which you have derived from the e-book.

* 7. Black Library shall be entitled to amend these terms and conditions from time to time by written notice to you.

* 8. These terms and conditions shall be governed by English law, and shall be subject only to the jurisdiction of the Courts in England and Wales.

* 9. If any part of this license is illegal, or becomes illegal as a result of any change in the law, then that part shall be deleted, and replaced with wording that is as close to the original meaning as possible without being illegal.

* 10. Any failure by Black Library to exercise its rights under this license for whatever reason shall not be in any way deemed to be a waiver of its rights, and in particular, Black Library reserves the right at all times to terminate this license in the event that you breach clause 2 or clause 3.