WH40K - Ultramarines 01 - Graham McNeill - Nightbringer.pdf - Ultramarines - siemszak

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NIGHTBRINGER

WARRIORS OF ULTRAMAR

DEAD SKY, BLACK SUN

More Warhammer 40,000 STORM OF IRON

Warhammer novels

THE AMBASSADOR URSUN'S TEETH

A WARHAMMER 40,000 NOVEL

AN ULTRAMARINES NOVEL

NIGHTBRINGER

GRAHAM MCNEILL

To everyone who helped me realise this book.

A BLACK LIBRARY PUBLICATION

First published in Great Britain in 2002.

This edition published in 2004 by

BL Publishing,

Games Workshop Ltd.,

Willow Road, Nottingham,

NG7 2WS, UK.

10 987654321

Cover illustration by Clint Langley.

Black Library, the Black Library logo, Black Flame, BL Publishing,

Games Workshop, the Games Workshop logo and all associated

marks, names, characters, illustrations and images from the

Warhammer 40,000 universe are either ®, TM and.’or ° Games

Workshop Ltd 20002004, variably registered in the UK and other

A C1P record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN 1844161633

Distributed in the US by Simon & Schuster 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020, US.

Printed and bound in Great Britain by Bookmarque, Surrey, UK.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval

system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic,

mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior

permission of the publishers.

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 the Black Library on the Internet at

www.blacklibrary.com

Find out more about Games Workshop and the world of Warhammer 40,000 at

www.gamesworkshop.com

NIGHTBRINGER

PROLOGUE

60 million years ago...

T HE STAR WAS being destroyed. It was a dwarf star of some one and a half million kilometres diameter and had burned for over

six billion years. Had it not been for the immense, crescentmoon shaped starship orbiting the system's fourth planet and draining

its massive energies, it would have probably continued to do so for perhaps another sixteen billion years.

The star generated energy at a colossal rate by burning hydrogen to helium in nuclear fusion reactions deep in its heart before

radiating that energy into space. These reactions produced intense electromagnetic fields in the star's core that rippled to the

surface in seething magnetic waves.

A clutch of these surging fields erupted as a toroidal loop of magnetic flux some 200,000 kilometres in diameter, producing a

dark, swelling sunspot within the star's photosphere.

This active region of magnetic flux expanded rapidly, suddenly exploding upwards from the star's surface in a gigantic flare,

covering a billion square kilometres and becoming a bright curling spear of light in the star's corona. These powerful waves of

electromagnetic energy and sprays of plasma

formed into a rippling nimbus of coruscating light that Spiralled a snaking route towards a runeencrusted pyramid at the centre

of the vast starship. Eldritch sigils carved into the ship's side blazed with the received energies and the hull pulsed as though the

ship itself was swelling with barely contained

power.

Every flaring beam of light ripped from the star that washed its power over the ship shortened the star's lifespan by a hundred

thousand years, but the occupants of the starship cared not that its death would cause the extinction of every living thing in mat

system. Galaxies had lived and died by their masters' command, whole stellar realms had been extinguished for their pleasure and

entire races brought into existence as their playthings. What mattered the fate of one insignificant star system to beings of such

power?

Like some obscene mechanised leech, the ship continued to suck the vital forces from the star as it orbited the planet. An array of

smaller pyramids and obelisks on the ship's base rippled as though in a heat haze, flickering in and out of perception as the

massive ship shuddered with the colossal energies it was stripping from the star.

Abruptly the snaking beam of liquid light from the star faded and vanished from sight, the silver ship having had its fill for the

moment. Ponderously it began to rotate and dropped slowly through the planet's atmosphere. Fiery coronas flared from the

leading edges of the crescent wings as it descended towards a vast, ironoxide desert in the northern hemisphere. The surface of

the planet sped by below: rugged mountains, grinding tectonic plates and ashspewing volcanoes. The ship began slowing as it

neared its destination, a sandy dust bowl with a tiny spot of absolute darkness at its

centre.

The ship's speed continued to drop as the shape resolved itself into a glassy black pyramid, its peak capped in gold. Its

shimmering obsidian walls, smoky and reflective, were impervious to the howling winds that scoured the planet bare. Small,

scuttling creatures that glittered in the burning sun crawled across its surface with a chittering mechanical gait. Runes identical to

those on the orbiting starship hummed as powerful receptors activated.

The ship manoeuvred itself gracefully into position above the pyramid as the gold cap began to open like the petals of a flower.

The humming rose to an earsplitting shriek as the smaller pyramids and obelisks on the ship's underside exploded with energy,

and a rippling column of pure electromagnetic force shot straight down the black pyramid's hungry maw.

Incandescent white light blazed from the pyramid, instantly incinerating the mechanical creatures that crawled across its surface.

The desert it stood upon flared gold, streaks of power radiating outwards from the pyramid's base in snaking lines and vitrifying

the sand in complex geometric patterns. The enormous vessel held its position until the last of its stolen energy had been

transferred. Once the gold cap of the pyramid had sealed itself shut, the ship made the long trip back into orbit to repeat the

process, its intention to continue ripping energy from the star until it was nothing more than a cooling ball of inert gasses.

The vessel settled into position before the star, the arcane device mounted upon its hull powering up once more.

An area of space behind the vessel twisted, shifting out of true and ripping asunder as the fragile veil of reality tore aside and a

massive flotilla of bizarre alien vessels poured out from the maelstrom beyond.

No two ships were alike, each having its own unique geometries and form, but all had the same lethal purpose. As though

commanded by a single will, the ragtag fleet of ships closed rapidly on the crescentshaped starship, weapons of all descriptions

firing. A series of bright explosions blossomed across the mighty ship's hull, bolts of powerful energy smashing against the

uppermost pyramid. The craft shuddered like a wounded beast.

But this starship could fight back.

Arcs of cobalt lightning whiplashed from its weapon batteries, smashing a dozen of its foes to destruction. Invisible beams of

immense power stripped another group down to their component atoms. But no amount of losses could dissuade the alien fleet

from its attack, and no matter how many were destroyed, it seemed there were always more to take their place. The faceless crew

of the starship appeared to realise that

unless they could escape, they were doomed. Slowly the ship began to rotate on its axis, a powerful, electric haze growing from

its inertialess engines.

A multitude of alien weapons hammered the ship's flattened topside, tearing great gouges in its hull and blasting jagged chunks of

metal from the vessel. Selfrepair mechanisms attempted to stem the damage, but, like the ship itself, they were fighting a losing

battle. Wreckage from the ship spun off into the darkness of space as its engines fired wim retinasearing brightness. Time

slowed and die image of the enormous ship stretched like elastic, the nearby gravity well of the star enacting its revenge on the

vampire ship as it vainly attempted to escape.

With a tortured shriek that echoed through the warp, the crescent ship seemed to contract to a singular point of unbearable

brightness. Its attackers were sucked into the screaming wake and together the foes were hurled into oblivion, perhaps never to

return.

The star continued to burn and, far below, the glow emanating from the golden cap of the black pyramid faded until it was a dull

lustreless bronze.

Soon, the sands obscured even that.

ONE

The 41st Millennium...

T HE EIGHTEEN RIDERS made their way along the base of the frozen stream bed, their horses carefully picking their steps through

the iceslick rocky ground. Despite their caution, and the herd of nearly a hundred scalyskinned grox they were driving through

the snow, Gedrik knew they were making good time.

He twisted in the saddle, making sure the herd was still together.

Gedrik was lean and rangy, wrapped tightly in a battered, but well caredfor snow cape with leather riding trousers, padded on the

inner thighs, and warm, fur lined boots. His head was protected by a thick colback of toughened leather and furs, his face

wrapped in a woollen scarf to keep the worst of the vicious mountain winds at bay.

The green plaid so common on Caernus IV, Gedrik's home planet, was tied loosely across his chest, its frayed ends hanging over

the wirewound hilt of his sword. Hidden in his left boot,

he also carried a slender bladed dagger. He had crafted both weapons himself from the Metal six years ago, and they were still as

sharp and untarnished as the day he had forged them. Preacher Mallein had taught him how to use the sword, and they were

lessons he had learned well; no one in the Four Valleys could fight as well as Gedrik.

To complete his arsenal he carried a simple boltaction rifle slung across his wide shoulders. Gedrik knew they were almost home

and he looked forward to a warm fire and the even warmer embrace of his wife, Maeren.

This last week on the mountains, gathering the herd for the slaughter, had been hard, as though the wind and snow had sought to

scour the pitiful humans who dared their wrath from the rocky peaks.

But soon they would be home and Gedrik could almost taste the fine steak Maeren would cook for him once Gohbar had begun

slaughtering the herd.

He turned as he heard a muffled curse behind him and grinned as his cousin, Faergus rode alongside him. Though Gedrik knew

that 'rode' was a flattering term for Faergus's skill in the saddle.

Gedrik's cousin could only be described as a bear of a man, with huge shoulders and a thick, shapeless neck. His face was

battered and lumpen, with a squashed nose broken in countless brawls and a thick, black beard.

His feet dangled almost to the snow and Gedrik could well understand his mount's desire to unseat him. He ignored his cousin's

discomfort, content to simply enjoy the majestic beauty of the Gelroch Mountains as they travelled home.

The sun was an hour past its zenith when the snowwreathed setdement of Morten's Reach came into view. Nestling in the loop

of a sluggish river at the centre of a wide glen, the buildings of the community seemed to huddle together as though for shared

warmth. Gedrik could see the inhabitants milling about the town square in front of the small stonebuilt temple to the Emperor,

squatting on the slopes of the Hill of the Metal. Preacher Mallein must have just finished one of his sermons, and Gedrik smiled

as he pictured his son, Rouari, telling him all about the winged angels and heroic deeds of the Emperor over supper. Mallein

could spin a fine tale, that was for sure!

Smoke drifted from the forge and, on the near side of the village, Gedrik could see Gohbar the slaughterman preparing the iron

walled corral on the river bank for the grox.

Gedrik urged his mount on, fresh energy filling him at the thought of Maeren and a home cooked meal. Only the grox seemed

reluctant to pick up the pace, but a few shouted oaths and wellplaced blows from Faergus's shockprod soon sorted that out.

Gedrik allowed his gaze to wander as he caught a flash of movement across the glen. He narrowed his eyes and raised a hand to

shield his sight from the low, winter sun. Something had moved behind a thick copse of evergreens at the crest of the opposite

rise, he could have sworn it. Automatically, he unslung his rifle and worked the bolt, chambering a bullet.

Trouble?' asked Faergus, noting Gedrik's actions.

Tm not sure. I thought I saw something.’ said Gedrik, pointing to the dark treeline.

Faergus squinted across the glen, drawing his own weapon, a stubby barrelled shotgun from its shoulder scabbard.

'I don't see' began Faergus as a dozen, sleek prowed vehicles emerged from the trees. Wickedly angled with blades and curved

barbs, the vehicles swept down the hillside towards the settlement, their open decks swarming with warriors. Black bolts spat

from weapons mounted on the foredecks of the skimming craft, exploding with shocking violence amongst the buildings of

Morten's Reach.

'Emperor's blood!' cursed Gedrik, raking back his spurs, all thought of the herd forgotten as he pushed his horse to the gallop.

Without looking, he knew the rest of his men were behind him. Screams and the dull crack of gunfire echoed from below and hot

fear gripped his heart at the thought of these terrible aliens in his home.

Heedless of the danger of such a mad gallop, Gedrik pushed his mount hard over the stony ground. Despite the horse's bouncing

rush, he saw the alien vehicles begin to spread out, a group detaching from each flank to encircle the settlement while the

remainder speared towards the heart of the township. Gedrik saw his people scatter, running for their homes or the sanctuary of

the temple as the first skimmers blasted their way into the village, reducing building after building to rubble.

Closer now, the horse careering up to the outskirts of the village, he saw a woman clutching a child Maeren and Rouari? dash

inside the church as Preacher Mallein was cut down by a flurry of lethal splinters fired from alien rifles. Whooping warriors in

closefitting armour of black and red somersaulted from the decks of their vehicles and sprinted through the township, firing long

barrelled guns from the hip.

He shouted in horror as he saw the villagers gunned down where they stood, women and children running towards the church,

their bodies jerking in the fusillade. Black smoke boiled skyward as more buildings burned and the screams of the dying cut

Gedrik like a knife. Small arms fire blasted from a few windows, felling a number of the alien raiders and he knew the invaders

would not take Morten's Reach without a fight.

His wild charge had carried him almost to the river, close enough to see old Gohbar ran screaming towards a group of the alien

warriors, a flensing halberd raised above his head. The aliens turned and laughingly despatched the slaughterman with a volley

from their deadly rifles before disappearing into the smoke of the village's death throes.

Gedrik willed his horse ever faster as he thundered across the river bridge, beside the generator mill he had helped build with his

own hands, and passed the convulsing Gohbar. The man's face was purple and distended, his tongue protruding from his mouth

like a swollen black snake. The entire town was in flames, the heat and smoke intolerable.

Gedrik emerged into the settlement's square, stopping his horse violently. Two of the attackers' craft hovered before the temple,

the alien warriors dragging screaming townspeople towards them. Their faces were exquisitely cruel and pale; humanoid, yet

wholly alien. Gedrik stood forward in the stirrups and aimed his rifle at one of the red armoured invaders, placing its angled helm

squarely between his sights.

He squeezed the trigger, punching the warrior from its feet, sending blood jetting from its neck. The others scattered and Gedrik

yelled out, hammering his spurs into his mount's flanks. The horse leapt forwards and Gedrik fired twice more, pitching another

two aliens to the ground before the rifle jammed.

The aliens turned their weapons on him, but the Emperor was with him and their whickering ammunition flew wide of the mark.

Then he was amongst them and swung his rifle in a brutal arc, smashing an enemy's skull to shards. He dropped the gun and drew

his sword. He caught a flash of red, before a bolt of dark light blasted his horse from under him.

Kicking his feet free of the stirrups, Gedrik jumped from the dying beast and landed lightly before a knot of the alien warriors

and lashed out with his shimmering, broad bladed sword.

The first fell with its guts looping around its ankles and die second died with Gedrik's sword lodged deep in its chest. Their alien

armour was no protection against the preternatural sharpness of Gedrik's sword, which cut through it with ease. The third thrust

with a smoking blade on the end of its rifle and Gedrik dodged backwards, losing his grip on the sword. The alien advanced

slowly, emotionless behind its smoothfaced helm.

Gedrik snarled and dived towards his foe. He rolled beneath the alien's weapon, dragging his dagger from his boot and

hammering it through the warrior's calf. The alien fell, shrieking horribly, and Gedrik wrenched the knife free, plunging it

repeatedly through the alien's chest.

He saw Faergus following him, blasting two of the aliens to bloody rags with a thunderous blast of his shotgun. Faergus wheeled

his horse as Gedrik retrieved his sword and shouted to his cousin.

'Get everyone you can inside the temple. We'll try to hold them from there!'

Faergus nodded, but before he could move, a flaring wash of violet fire blasted from one of the alien vehicles and engulfed him.

Faergus screamed as the horrifying energies burned the flesh from his frame in moments. Slowly his charred skeleton toppled

from the shrieking horse and Gedrik felt his stomach lurch at his cousin's terrible death. The horse toppled, a bloody gouge

burned through the beast's flank where the alien weapon had struck.

Gedrik bounded up the steps of the temple, hammering on the door, shouting out Maeren's name. Splinters were blasted from die

building as more aliens converged on the centre of the village, firing wildly towards him. He dived from the steps and

rolled to his feet. He saw the surviving inhabitants driven before the aliens to their deaths and, watching it all, a slender, white

haired figure in jade green armour atop the lead vehicle.

The figure slashed his huge axe impatiently through the air and Gedrik screamed as his people were shot down where they stood.

He wanted to plant his dagger in the alien leader's chest, but knew he would be dead before he got close.

He ducked back, knowing that the people inside the temple could not risk opening the doors now and sprinted around the side,

hoping that they had not yet barred the vestry.

Gedrik heard the bark of commands being issued and a deep bass rumble of a powerful weapon. He prayed that someone had

managed to send a warning to the nearby communities.

The vestry door was just ahead and he cried in relief as he saw it was still ajar. He skidded to a halt before it and gripped the iron

handle.

Before he could pull the door open, the temple exploded, roiling orange flames mushrooming skyward and blasting Gedrik from

his feet. Pain like nothing he had ever known engulfed him as the blast smashed him into the hillside behind the building. He

flopped like a boneless creature, shocked to his very bones by the impact. His skin burned, patches of his anatomy exposed to the

elements by the unnatural flames.

He sensed cool snow upon his body, but could feel no pain.

He knew that was bad. Pain meant life.

He rolled his eyes towards the smoking wreckage of the temple, timber columns poking upwards like blackened ribs. He couldn't

make out any bodies, but knew that no one could have survived the explosion and grief swamped him.

Maeren, Rouari, Faergus, Mallein, Gohbar... all gone. Everyone was dead. Even him soon.

His breath rattled in his throat as he heard the low humming of the alien vehicles approaching and he tried to push himself

upright, but his limbs would not obey him. Dimly he heard the aliens' singsong voices, elegant but threatening, and tried to spit a

defiant curse. But the voices passed him, climbing the Hill of the Metal. He watched as the greenarmoured warrior pointed at the

hillside and directed his warriors to spread out. He heard their voices chatter excitedly, but could not understand what they said.

Was this the reason his community had been slaughtered?

For the Metal?

He heard the whoosh of flames and the hillside lit up, hissing as the snow flashed to steam. The aliens continued to work the

flames of their weapons across the hillside, only stopping when a hooded figure wearing shimmering red robes climbed down

from the nearest alien vehicle and raised its hand. The figure stepped forward to examine what had been revealed beneath the

snow and a low gasp went up from the aliens as the steam dissipated.

Swirling like quicksilver, the exposed strata sparkled in the sunlight, its entire flank shining with a metallic sheen. Beneath the

snow, a whole swathe of the hillside was formed from a smooth, silver metal. It rippled and twisted like a liquid where it had run

molten under the heat of the flames, undulating like a living thing. Slowly it began reshaping itself, flowing with swirling

currents into a smooth, glassflat surface until it resembled a gigantic mirror. Gedrik watched as the hooded figure dropped to its

knees before the metallic hillside and began chanting in rapture, the words rasping and artificial.

Moments passed before Gedrik realised that the figure's words were familiar to him. He did not truly understand them, but

recognised the mantra from times he had spent working in the forge with Faergus.

It was a chant in praise of the Omnissiah. The Machine God.

The robed figure rose to face the aliens' leader and threw back his hood. Gedrik saw that most of the figure's face had been

replaced by cybernetic implants. A brassrimmed voxunit nestled in the centre of his throat below his stitched lips, crackling

with hissing white noise. Ribbed copper wiring curled from beneath his robes and plugged into his empty eye sockets, and

WH40K - Ultramarines 01 - Graham McNeill - Nightbringer.pdf

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