VERITAS FERRUM

David Annandale

The explosions rippled along both flanks of the Veritas Ferrum. The blasts were
twin broadsides, as the Iron Hands strike cruiser drove between its enemies. With
Night Lords to port and the Alpha Legion to starboard, there was no question of
evasion. There was only, for now, a choice of foe.
As the Veritas was bracketed by the fire of the two smaller cruisers, her void
shields flared with the brilliance of a new sun. The glare was so intense that, for an
instant, the oculus showed nothing but white blindness.
Standing at his command lectern, Captain Durun Atticus raised his bionic rasp of a
voice over the din of alarms and the rumble of secondary blasts. Damage report,
Sergeant Galba!
Void shield collapse over port-side stern, captain. Fire in that landing bay, and in
the serf barracks.
Seal the sector. Divert its power to the shields.
Galba looked up from his post just beneath the lectern. Captain, the survivors
Atticus silenced the sergeant with a sharp gesture. Theyre dead either way.
Anyone in that sector is a casualty. Lets not add to their numbers. Do it, damn you!
Damn the arithmetic of war. Damn Horus. Damn the turncoat cowards who were
filling the near orbit of Isstvan V with the wreckage of ships, the flames of treachery,
and the ruin of the Emperors dream.
And damn me too, Atticus muttered.
Galba paused over his controls. Captain?
Nothing.
But it wasnt nothing, was it? What was it he had said to his men, laughing with
that bionic larynx of his laughing as the Veritas had begun its journey through
the warp to the Isstvan System? He had said that it was not true that the Legions
knew no fear, because he had a great one, and his fear was that they would arrive to
find that their primarch, Ferrus Manus, had already crushed the Warmasters
rebellion without them.
After Callinedes after Fulgrims craven ambush and after the warp storms had
calmed, Lord Manus had raced hard for Isstvan, taking the fastest, least-damaged
ships, and filling them with his most experienced Avernii veterans. Atticus had
given over half his complement of warriors to the primarchs folly. But now the
Veritas Ferrum had finally dropped out of the warp at the systems Mandeville
point, and into a vision of hell.
Atticus descended from the lectern and strode to the oculus. Littering the far orbit
of the Isstvan star was a graveyard of loyalist ships. Some had been caught as they
attempted to escape, but many more were simply torn apart by enemy fire as soon as
they emerged from the immaterium.
The Iron Hands second wave had been virtually obliterated.
Hard to starboard! he ordered, sweeping his eyes over his crew. Will none of you
ask if I am relieved that my fear has not come to pass?
The battle was not over, but the terrible truth was that it seemed as though it soon
would be.
He jabbed a finger at the nearest enemy ship that hove into view as the Veritas
began its turn. I want everything hitting that Alpha Legion bastard. If he still had
lips, they would have parted in a murderous smile. So the individual is

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unimportant, is it, Alpharius? he spat. Then what were about to do wont hurt you
at all.
With the slow majesty of a glacier, the Veritas rounded on its prey. The Alpha
Legion ship, the Theta, tried to evade by rising above the ecliptic, but it was too
slow, and too late. Concentrated lance and torpedo fire from the Veritas
overwhelmed its void shields. They went down in a flickering cascade, and the
Thetas running lights died just before the Iron Hands main barrage struck it
amidships.
The blow was devastating. The Theta broke in half.
Galba called out from his station, The Night Lords vessel is firing again.
Noted, sergeant. Countermeasures. Atticus looked at the bisected cruiser before
them.
Helmsman, he ordered, take us through.
The prow of the Veritas Ferrum drove into the dissipating fireball where the core
hull of the Theta had been. The two sections of the Alpha Legion vessel seemed to
fold in upon the Veritas in an embrace of the void. There was a glancing impact that
brought down the starboard prow shields, but then the Veritas was clear. Behind
them, the Night Lords vessels flank was exposed to the wreckage the ship was
manoeuvring into an evasive turn, but there was no time. The shattered rearward
bulk of the Theta slammed into it, lighting up the void as her reactor went critical.
The sound that came from Atticuss voice box was a growl of satisfaction.
Sergeant Galba?
Shields holding. Just.
Ahead, there was a clear path. Atticus turned to the vox-operator. Any word from
the dropsite?
Nothing I can confirm, captain.
They had received only fragmentary vox chatter since their arrival. Broken distress
calls from voices that claimed to be Iron Hands, lamenting the death of their
primarch, but never any direct responses to hails from the Veritas. Atticus returned
to the command lectern. More lies, then, he said. He would not believe that Ferrus
Manus had been killed. Not unless he saw the primarchs body before him. Perhaps
not even then.
He would not believe it. Yet deep down he knew there was nothing left to salvage
from the dropsite, and he felt his soul filling with a hatred that he would carry to his
grave.
Galbas auspex blared a proximity alarm. Capital ships, dead ahead!
Atticus could not sigh any more. So much of the weak flesh was gone, the many
basic human mannerisms given up and replaced by the strength of metal. So he did
not sigh he tightened his fists instead, bending the rails around the lectern. We
must retreat. If we do not, if nothing of the loyalist forces survived the slaughter on
the surface, what then? What then for our Legion?
The vox-operator whirled to face the lectern. Signal! Thunderhawks. Two,
outbound from the debris field, requesting aid.
The war-arithmetic loomed before Atticus once more. Put it on main speaker.
Static crackled through the open channel. Then came a voice.
This is Sergeant Khidem, Salamanders 139th Company. Our carrier vessel was
destroyed. We need recovery.
Atticus looked at the tactical hololiths before him. So few allied ships left. The
Veritas was the only one close enough, and with even the illusion of freedom to act.
But the arithmetic was unforgiving.
Im sorry, sergeant. We cannot help you. This is the Tenth Legion strike cruiser
Veritas Fe

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 We have a number of your brothers and those of the Raven Guard aboard. We lost
many to save them. Is that worth nothing?
Do you have our primarch?
There was a long moment of silence. No.
Then, I regret
Three Legions have fought for the Emperor, and now face annihilation. Are they
to be abandoned, their sacrifice forgotten? Will you grant the traitors an absolute
victory? Will there be no witnesses to what was done this day on Isstvan Five?
Atticus cursed. He cursed Khidem. He cursed the entire galaxy.
Helmsman, set course to intercept. Recover those ships.
He hated the piece of his soul that rejoiced at the decision. He wished he had
replaced it with bionics, too.
The Veritas Ferrum closed with the Thunderhawks. On both its flanks, the great
warships of the Sons of Horus and the Emperors Children were approaching. A
noose was closing around the Iron Hands.
The Veritas slowed to take on the two gunships, even as the traitors opened fire.
The starboard landing bays were closing when the torpedoes struck the port side.
Then the already terrible damage became catastrophic.
The explosions were thunder that built upon thunder. Atticus felt his ships wound
through the command interface like a blade scraping the length of his ribs. The
bridge klaxons were the Veritas screaming in pain.
But the Iron Hands still had the vector of escape. Atticus pounded the railing of the
command lectern. Go! he roared.
The Veritas ran. The tear in its flank was huge. It bled air and flame and tiny,
armoured figures into the void. The ship was rocked by yet another torpedo hit.
Galba was hunched over his post as though the screens themselves were his
enemies. Fire spreading, captain. Over a hundred legionaries lost to the void.
Many times more than the Thunderhawks were transporting, Atticus raged. Im
sure our guests are worth it.
He felt it then, the final excision of mercy from his being. The last weakness, killed
one battle too late. And now, with only one desperate path remaining, a calmness as
cold as the grave descended upon him.
Make the jump.
Galba was staring at him. Captain, the hull is compromised
Make the jump. Now.
The Veritas Ferrums warp engines flared. The bleeding ship plunged into realitys
scream, and Atticus gazed into the maw of a future as pitiless and uncertain as he.