THE ASCENSION

OF BALTHASAR

C Z D U N N

PROLOGUE

ATMOS: Audio montage. FX to match what is

being described in narration.

Narration: Though the message was only

brief, its cost in human life was expen-

sive.

The sender, under great duress, was the

first to die, a bolt shell put cleanly

through the back of his head the instant

his captor had confirmation of its

release into the warp.

His corpse had not yet begun to cool

when mere minutes later it reached the

first of many relay stations it would

pass through on its way to its intended

recipient. In unison the astropathic

choir screamed out in terror as the

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complex array of images and emotions

passed through their minds before being

diverted onwards. Those who did not die

instantly through their exertions turned

upon their fellow psykers, clawing at

each other in a frenzied orgy of warp-

induced psychosis until not a single

one of them was left breathing, their

pinpricks of light forever extinguished

in the Astronomican.

A pilgrim ship believed the glow emanating

from their young blind astropath was a

sign from the Emperor himself, that He

had delivered unto them a new saint in

recognition of their piety. But when her

being turned to pure warp energy and

engulfed every living thing on board,

all that was delivered were fresh souls

to the entities lurking at the edge of

reality and the cursed missive to its

next destination.

Yet more lives burned out, fuelling the

message as it travelled halfway across

a segmentum. Drinking wells turned to

poison. Beasts of burden and livestock

became feral in their pens, turning on

their keepers. Hitherto unknown diseases

ran rife across an untold number of worlds,

millions dying in agony before cures and

vaccinations could be discovered.

A small agricultural world, though it did

not suffer the ill-effects immediately,

became the source of Inquisitorial

attention and ultimately sanction. For

several years after the message passed

The Ascension of Balthasar

5

through a latent psyker in an outlying

farming community, those children

that were not stillborn were horribly

mutated. The few that did make it beyond

infanthood were purged along with the

rest of the population.

The penultimate victim was the only

being of any note to have acted as a

conduit for the message. Epistolary Arkan

Karnasha of the Executioners Chapter of

the Adeptus Astartes, being in his one

hundred and eighty-third year of service

to the Emperor, was engaged in personal

combat with an archon of the Kabal of

the Sundered Veil. The dark eldar had

been a threat to trade routes in the

Galactic South for centuries and while

the Imperial Navy had done an admirable

job of containment in that time, the

addition of several Space Marine Chapters

to the patrols had finally put the xenos

to rout.

There, on the bridge of the Archon’s

flagship, his force axe poised to

deliver the killing blow, the message

bounced off Epistolary Karnasha’s psyche

to travel the final few light years to

its recipient. Despite his shields and

defensive training being great, the

psychic momentum unbalanced the Librarian.

Sensing an opportunity, the Archon ran

his blade through the Executioner’s torso

dropping the bulky figure to his knees.

As the dark eldar hefted his blade ready

to strike down and decapitate Karnasha,

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the psychic communication had already

reached its final destination and was

poised to claim its final life.

Jolina Forneau was in the process of

deciphering her previous message when the

new one hit with astonishing force. It

physically lifted her from her feet and

slammed her against the bulkhead of the

chamber, the Chapter serfs charged with

guardin. The Astropathic Choir could only

watch on helplessly as she burned with

an incandescent green flame. Her screams

echoed through the corridors of the Pride

of Caliban and only ceased when one of the serfs was able to recover from his

shock sufficiently to roll her to the

ground and douse the unnatural flame.

Her breathing ragged and sharp she glared

at the serf with long-dead eyes.

JOLINA:‘I need Lord Zadakiel. Right

now.’

SCENE ONE – THE WAR ROOM,

PRIDE OF CALIBAN

ATMOS: Rumble of starship engines.

ZADAKIEL: ‘She will only deliver the

message directly to me?

SELENAZ: ‘That is correct, my lord.

She claims the contents are for you

and you only.’

The giant figure of Company Master Zada-

kiel towered over Captain Selenaz, her

slight, wiry frame making her look like

a child in comparison. He looked to the

five other figures in the war room, each

clad in the bone-white Terminator armour

of the Deathwing and then back at the

woman bowing before him.

ZADAKIEL: ‘Very well, Captain Selenaz.

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The Deathwing and I will grant her

audience here in the war room.’

She bowed lower before taking her leave,

her almond-shaped eyes never making con-

tact with any of the Space Marines. If

such inter-species breeding were possi-

ble, Zadakiel would have sworn the woman

was half-eldar, such was the alienness

of her features. Once she was out of the

room, he turned to his battle-brothers.

ZADAKIEL:‘What do you make of that?’

DARDARIEL:‘A poor omen. The ship is

abuzz with talk of what happened to

the woman. They say she burned green

and with such a heat that it melted

the bulkhead of the Astropathic

Choir’s chamber. Throw her out of an

airlock and be done with it, I say.’

Dardariel was usually the most taciturn

of Squad Balthasar but his distaste for

matters of the warp often made him the

most vocal of the five, a hangover from

the superstitions of his primitive,

tribal homeworld. Since the destruction

of Caliban at the tail-end of the Horus

Heresy, the Dark Angels had become a

nomadic Chapter, traversing the galaxy in

their asteroid-bound fortress, the Rock,

and their fleet of battle-barges and

strike cruisers. Rather than recruiting

fresh battle-brothers from a single world,

the Dark Angels now drew upon all of the

planets of the Imperium for potential

inheritors of their gene-seed.

The Ascension of Balthasar

9

BALTHASAR: ‘Stay your tongue,

Dardariel.’

Sergeant of the Deathwing Squad and

second only in years of service to

Zadakiel, Balthasar had learned a measure

of pragmatism during his time as part of

his Chapter’s inner circle. While he was

still a Scout he had honed his dislike

and distrust of psykers, which like

Dardariel was due to the attitudes and

bearing of his homeworld. Even when he

became a full-fledged battle-brother and

took his place in Fifth Company, fighting

alongside the Chapter’s Librarians, this

did little to temper his ill-feelings.

At that time would have quite happily

held the airlock open while Dardariel

jettisoned the helpless astropath.

BALTHASAR:‘I have no more fondness for

the psyker than you but the nature of

the message’s arrival means somebody

was trying to get our attention.’

ZADAKIEL: ‘Then I would say they’ve

got it, wouldn’t you?’

Zadakiel motioned to the robed newcomer

entering the room, somewhat redundant as

the stench of seared flesh had already

heralded her arrival. Though her garb

obscured the worst of them, her blackened

face bore all the evidence of how grievous

her injuries were. In places, the flesh

and muscle had burned away to bone and

strips of skin hung from her cheeks,

resting on blisters and open sores. Two

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Chapter serfs assisted her to the centre

of the circle formed by the armoured

figures. Captain Selenaz walked behind

her. When she spoke, it was with the voice

and deportment of a dying woman.

JOLINA:‘Three messages have I for

you, my lord, though a fourth was

received but intended solely for me.’

Zadakiel dismissed the captain and the

two serfs. Once they had gone he bid the

astropath continue.

JOLINA: ‘The first was the simplest

to decipher and its meaning is clear:

a world is dead.’

Dardariel scoffed but the other members

of his squad castigated him silently.

ZADAKIEL:‘The message was not more

specific?’

JOLINA:‘No, my lord. Sometimes

parts are lost in transit or their

meanings altered and confused, but I

believe this message only travelled

a relatively short distance and its

integrity is sound.’

Despite her milky-white eyes being use-

less they were transfixed on the company

master.

BALTHASAR:‘That in itself is

something. Perhaps the world in

question is close by.’

Zadakiel nodded.

The Ascension of Balthasar

11

ZADAKIEL: ‘And the second?’

JOLINA:‘Considerably more difficult,

lord, as it was a mixture of metaphor-

ic imagery, complex emotion and cur-

rents that already flowed within the

warp. I believe my interpretation to

be accurate but there are gaps in my

knowledge that may have allowed misun-

derstanding to creep in.’

She paused, taking a moment for her

scorched lungs to gather breath.

JOLINA:‘The Black Angel. He descends,

no falls, from the sky on broken

wings. The metal from which he is made

as cold as his soul. Though he is no

beast he is still uncaged or untamed.’

All five Deathwing tensed. Narcariel,

standing directly behind the astropath,

was about to strike her down when Zadakiel

gestured for him to halt.

ZADAKIEL:‘This is very important. Was

there anything else? Any imagery that

you discounted or could not decipher?

JOLINA:‘None, my lord. Though there

was a faint reverberation that I

couldn’t quite distinguish. A clanging

sound like metal on metal. An anvil

being struck, possibly a bell.’

MENDRION:‘There are several Forge

Worlds in the neighbouring sectors.

What if this was a distress call sent

by one under attack?’

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The buzz in the Deathwing Terminator’s

voice was common to all natives of Men-

drion’s world. Zadakiel looked thoughtful

for a moment.

ZADAKIEL:‘Possible, but why would the

message be meant directly for me?’

None of the Deathwing could offer an

answer.

JOLINA:‘Your final message needed

neither divination nor study. It was

quite blunt.’

The astropath pulled her robe from her

shoulders allowing the garment to drop to

the cold metal floor of the war room. She

turned her burnt body around so that her

back was facing the Company Master.

There, among the crisp charred flesh that

clung to her back were several patches of

entirely unburned skin, the black punc-

tuated by patterns of pale pink to form

High Gothic numerals.

BARACHIEL:‘Throne! What is that?’

Barachiel was a seasoned campaigner and had

served the Dark Angels during his time in

both Seventh and Fifth Companies as well

as his half-century in the Deathwing. He

had never witnessed anything like this.

ZADAKIEL:‘They’re co-ordinates.

Somebody is attempting to lead us

somewhere.’

The hulking green figure moved nearer the

husk of the astropath. He picked her robe

The Ascension of Balthasar

13

from the floor and returned it.

ZADAKIEL:‘Thank you. You have done

a great service to the Chapter,

astropath, and for that you have our

gratitude.’

JOLINA:‘I live only to serve, lord.’

ZADAKIEL:‘But please, tell me this.

What was the fourth message? The one

intended solely for you?

JOLINA:‘I…’

ZADAKIEL:‘Please, you’ve just told me

you live to serve. Serve me now by

telling me.’

For the first time since she entered the

chamber, the fear Jolina felt became evi-

dent on her face and in the language of

her ruined body.

JOLINA:‘Its meaning was entirely

clear, clearer even than these marks

on my back. It told me that now that

you think I know your secret you

won’t allow me to live.’

Zadakiel placed his gauntleted hand on

the back of Jolina’s neck. She winced

as the cold ceramite touched her burned

flesh.

ZADAKIEL:‘Some secrets are just too

big.’

FX – neck snapping like a twig.

Zadakiel snapped the astropath’s neck

like a twig, her lifeless form collapsing

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to the deck with a morbid grace. None

of the ivory Terminators did so much as

flinch at her cold-blooded murder.

ZADAKIEL:‘Captain Selenaz.’

The company master called to the captain

who had been waiting a respectful dis-

tance from the entrance to the war room.

Several seconds later, the lithe woman

entered and bowed.

SELENAZ:‘Yes, my lord.’

ZADAKIEL:‘Fifth Company are to

transfer to the Salvation. Master

Boaz will lead both Fifth and Fourth

Companies to rendezvous with the

Executioners and Doom Eagles to

fulfil our obligation to patrol

the Draconis system trade routes.

Squad Balthasar and I will need the

Pride of Caliban warp-ready as soon

as they’ve transferred and new co-

ordinates will be issued.’

SELENAZ:‘Understood, lord.’

ZADAKIEL:‘That is all. Dismissed.’

The captain turned to make her exit but

halted upon noticing Jolina’s body. She

turned back to Zadakiel, this time making

eye contact with him and said:

SELENAZ:‘A great mercy, my lord. The

girl would not have survived much

longer anyway.’

Before continuing on her way to carry

out the company master’s orders. Once she

The Ascension of Balthasar

15

was beyond the threshold of the chamber,

Zadakiel addressed the Deathwing squad.

ZADAKIEL:‘It would seem fate has

intervened and presented us with a

new mission, brothers. Once again

we have the honour of meting out

retribution on those who betrayed us

so long ago.’

SCENE TWO – INT. THUNDERHAWK

EN ROUTE TO PLANET

ATMOS: Loud engine noise. Voices have to

be raised to be heard above it.

BALTHASAR:<<‘This is a mistake.’>> The Thunderhawk gunship sped towards

the ground, its six passengers checking

and double checking their equipment in

readiness for whatever awaited them below.

Mendrion spoke prayers and litanies to

bless his weapons while Narcariel applied

purity seals to their armour. Dardariel

spun the mechanism of his assault cannon

to check the smoothness of its motion

before spreading unguent along the barrel.

Barachiel was stock still, staring at the

blank wall of the craft to sharpen his

battle focus.

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ZADAKIEL:<<‘That’s a chance I’m

prepared to take. You heard what the

astropath said. “Untamed”. You’ve

studied the ancient texts, pored over

the Rosters of Caliban the same as I

have. Tell me you don’t think it’s

him.’>>

BALTHASAR:<<‘I have no doubt who it

refers to but if he is here then it’s

likely he sent the message and is

lying in wait for us.’>>

ZADAKIEL:<<‘Three times Attias the

Untamed has escaped from us just as

our net was closing, twice from right

under both our noses. Are you pre-

pared to let him escape again?’>>

The memories flared at the back of

Balthasar’s mind like an itch. His first

action after being inducted into the Dark

Angels inner circle was as part of a mis-

sion to capture Attias the Untamed, one

of the most notorious of the Fallen and

rumoured to have been by Luther’s side

during Caliban’s destruction.

Ten thousand years ago, the Imperium

had been torn asunder by galactic civil

war, formerly loyal Space Marine Legions

turning on their brothers in defiance of

the Emperor. For years worlds burned as

the traitors moved slowly towards Terra

before laying siege to the galactic

capital. Though the traitors were

ultimately defeated, the Emperor was

placed in a catatonic state, existing

The Ascension of Balthasar

19

somewhere between life and death entombed

in a Golden Throne.

The Dark Angels primarch, the Lion, led

half of the Legion to Terra but arrived

too late. With little to do other than

chase down the remaining turncoats who

were fleeing towards the Eye of Terror,

he opted to return to Caliban which he had

left under the stewardship of his most

trusted lieutenant, Luther. Years of iso-

lation and the warping influence of the

planet itself had changed Luther and he

attacked his primarch. While the loyal

Dark Angels bombarded Caliban from orbit,

Luther slew the Lion in personal combat.

Devastated by his actions, Luther’s psy-

chic primal scream was heard by the Chaos

gods who, cheated of one of their agents,

wracked the cradle of the Dark Angels with

violent warp storms. Those traitors who

still remained on the planet either per-

ished in its destruction or were flung

through time and space.

For millennia the Dark Angels had believed

Attias dead in the cataclysm, but less

than a century ago he had resurfaced and,

upon learning his whereabouts, almost the

entirety of the Deathwing had been dis-

patched to capture him. Neither Balthasar

or Zadakiel had yet ascended to the Death-

wing at that point but had learned of the

mission’s failure during one of the many

initiation rites and were eager partici-

pants in the next attempt to bring the

traitor to heel and secure his repentance.

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Like the first mission, the second was

a failure but one that cost the lives

of a dozen Space Marines both Balthasar

and Zadakiel had called brothers.

Relentlessly pursuing Attias from system

to system, the Deathwing again cornered

the Fallen, only to be denied vengeance

at the very last as he and his warband

made warp translation just as three Dark

Angels strike cruisers and a battle-barge

were bringing their combined firepower

to bear.

That was twenty years ago and in that time

Zadakiel had become Master of the Fifth

Company, the fabled Guardian of the Inner

Sanctum, while Balthasar had reached the

rank of sergeant within the Deathwing and

was earmarked for masterhood of a company

of his own, as and when that time should

come. In those two decades no member of

the Dark Angels had even heard mention of

Attias’s name.

Balthasar snorted in derision.

BALTHASAR:<<‘I still don’t like

it.’>>

The Deathwing sergeant turned his at-

tention back to his equipment, activat-

ing both his lightning claws in turn and

checking their power levels. Satisfied

that they were functioning correctly he

addressed the other four members of his

squad.

BALTHASAR: <<‘Though the treachery

and barbarism of Attias the Untamed

The Ascension of Balthasar

21

are familiar to us all, we step now

into the unknown. The co-ordinates

etched into the psyker’s back have

indeed led us to a dead world, and

in the hours since we arrived in-

system not a single life sign has

been returned by any of the Pride of

Caliban’s sensor arrays. We have to

assume that whatever put paid to life

on this world is long gone.’>>

All remained silent as their sergeant

spoke.

BALTHASAR:<<‘Even so, exercise

extreme caution. Though we may well

be walking into a trap, let us not do

so blindly.’>>

The Deathwing were not only unique within

the Dark Angels but nothing approaching

them existed in any other Adeptus Astartes

Chapter. Entrusted with the deepest and

darkest secrets of the Legion that spawned

them, the Deathwing exclusively took to the

field of battle in Terminator armour and

these dual boons elevated their position.

Whereas the First Company of other Space

Marine Chapters were comprised of its

greatest warriors, the Deathwing were an

elite in the truest sense of the word

and though rank existed among them, frank

discourse was encouraged in operational

matters. Balthasar’s comments were not a

barb aimed at the company master, merely

a reminder that though a threat may remain

unseen, it is still a threat nonetheless.

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Red lights flared in the troop hold and

the pitch of the engine noise changed to

indicate they were approaching the land-

ing zone. Still several metres off the

ground, the rear hatch began to open and

harsh sunlight invaded the dark confines

of the Thunderhawk. As the craft touched

down, Balthasar turned to his squad.

BALTHASAR:<<‘Today we bear the honour

of bringing to heel one of those who

stain the legacy of our Chapter and

sully our primarch’s name. We do so

with sadness, sadness that he turned

away from the light of our father,

and of our father’s father, but also

with hope. Hope that he can be made

to see the folly of his treachery and

repent like so many others before

him.’>>

He made the sign of the Aquila across his

chest. Every other occupant of the crew

hold returned the salute.

BALTHASAR:<<‘Good hunting.’>>

SCENE THREE – EXT. DESERTED CITY

ATMOS: Quiet. Any noise echoes off the

stone buildings and concrete streets.

BARACHIEL:<<‘Not what I was

expecting.’>>

Barachiel’s words summed up what the other

five Dark Angels were thinking. Countless

times had Space Marines inserted via

Thunderhawk onto previously inhabited

worlds now devoid of lifesigns and

countless times what they’d found there

had been the same.

Bodies.

Everywhere they looked, there should have

been corpses, possibly even destruction

and other evidence of battle but instead

there was… nothing. No blood, no sign of

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struggle, just the huge stone edifices of

buildings that lined all four sides of

the plaza where the Thunderhawk had put

down. Statuary and Imperial insignia were

all about and the Dark Angels could not

turn in any direction without having an

aquila or replica of some Imperial saint

or another in their line of sight.

NARCARIEL:<<‘Ecclesiarchy world from

the looks of it.’>>

Narcariel stood in front of a statue

depicting a sister of the Adepta Sororitas.

The likeness was astounding, crafted by a

true artisan, but any semblance of realism

was lost by the sheer size of the thing.

MENDRION:<<‘Or somebody is trying

desperately to get the Emperor’s

attention.’>>

The sense of scale was imposing and

the near three metre-tall figures were

dwarfed in comparison to the monuments

surrounding them. The plaza itself covered

an area large enough to parade an entire

Imperial Guard regiment and still have

room left over for their troop transports

and equipment.

ZADAKIEL:<<‘Captain Selenaz?’>>

The Company Master activated his vox and

established a link to the orbiting strike

cruiser.

SELENAZ:<<‘Yes, lord.’>>

ZADAKIEL:<<‘Have you turned anything

The Ascension of Balthasar

25

up regarding the planet?’>>

SELENAZ:<<‘Negative, lord. I’ve

cancelled all downtime and have every

available member of the crew looking

through the ship’s records.’>>

ZADAKIEL:<<‘Concentrate their search

on Ecclesiarchy worlds. I want to

know everything about this planet

within the hour.’>>

SELENAZ:<<‘Acknowledged, lord.’>> Zadakiel cut the link with the Pride

of Caliban.

BALTHASAR:<<‘What now?’>>

ZADAKIEL:<<‘If this world is truly

dead, I want to know what killed

it.’>>

SCENE FOUR – EXT. DESERTED CITY

ATMOS: As per Scene Three.

DARDARIEL:<<‘It must have been some

kind of chemical or biological

attack. Nothing else could have wiped

out the population so completely

without damaging infrastructure.’>>

The Dark Angels had made their way out

of the plaza and were slowly walking

two abreast down a wide street, weapons

training on windows and doorways lest

some attacker invisible to their auto-

senses ambush them.

NARCARIEL:<<‘There’d still be

survivors or at the very least

evidence. Even the servants of

the plague god don’t have a toxin

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powerful enough to remove all traces

of its victim. Likewise the dark

eldar. The Officio Assassinorum

perhaps, but why assassinate an

entire population when you can just

as easily bombard it from orbit?

It’s not like an Ecclesiarchy world

is strategically important. A few

statues and monuments may nourish the

spiritual appetite of the Imperium

but they don’t win wars.’>>

MENDRION:<<’It was xenos then. Carried

the people off into slavery. Wouldn’t

be the first time it’s happened.’>>

BARACHIEL:<<’There’d be signs of

battle. No population would willingly

enter into servitude with the alien

and even if they did, there’d be

dissenters and those who managed to

avoid being taken. Something much

darker has occurred here.’>>

BALTHASAR:<<‘Agreed, Brother

Barachiel. And until we have proof of

what happened here, can we leave the

speculation to prognosticars and rune-

casters?’>>

The rest of the Deathwing squad laughed.

While some other Chapters placed their

faith in false science and pseudo-magick,

the Dark Angels were driven by reason,

reason that fuelled vengeance. Obeying

their sergeant’s order, they followed

the company master through the deserted

streets in silence.

The Ascension of Balthasar

29

The planet’s sun grew lower in the sky

and the shadows cast by the high-fronted

buildings and towering memorials length-

ened across the wide streets. With the

hour almost up, Captain Selenaz’s voice

cut across the general vox channel.

SELENAZ:<<‘My lords, we’ve just

identified the world as Stern’s

Remembrance. You were correct in your

assessment that it is an Ecclesiarchy

world, though we found the record of

it in a more recent archive as it was

only settled earlier this century.’>>

ZADAKIEL:<<‘Any idea of population?

There must have been a census carried

out at foundation.’>>

SELENAZ:<<’It’s a relatively small

world. Two billion pilgrims formed

the initial settlers, including

Ecclesiarchy and Administratum

officials and staff.’>>

The six figures stopped short. It took

a lot to surprise a Space Marine but

informing him that two billions souls had

just vanished without a trace from a world

under the protection of the Imperium was

a good start.

ZADAKIEL:<<‘Have the crew keep looking

over the records to see if there’s any

more information that may be of use

to us. And have the sensorium increase

the range of their scans. If anything

arrives in-system I want us to know

about it immediately.’>>

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Zadakiel broke the link and switched back

to the squad channel.

ZADAKIEL:<<‘Stay alert. Anything that

can wipe out two billion-’>>

FX – Peal of bells and harsh High-Gothic

voice.

The company master never finished his

sentence as the peal of bells and a harsh

High Gothic voice crashed alarmingly

across the eerie silence. The Dark Angels

pointed their weapons all about, mind-

ful to any potential danger. Storm bolt-

ers targeted shadowy doorways and alcoves

while Zadakiel’s own combi-bolter traced

an imaginary line across the top floor

windows of the highest buildings. His aim

lingered on an object positioned on the

corner of a particularly tall building

further down the street and he relaxed

his trigger finger and brought the gun

down.

ZADAKIEL:<<‘Of course, this is an

Ecclesiarchy world.’>>

The Deathwing, confident they faced no

immediate peril also relaxed.

MENDRION:<<‘And? What of it?’>>

ZADAKIEL:<<‘Listen.’>>

The Terminators filtered out the noise of

the bells so that only the voice speaking

in High Gothic was audible.

ZADAKIEL:<<‘It’s a call to prayer.’>>

The Ascension of Balthasar

31

The company master’s gaze strayed from

the vox-array he’d spotted on the top of

the building as he surveyed the skyline.

ZADAKIEL:<<‘And where do the faithful

go to pray?’>>

Balthasar and his squad mimicked Zadakiel

and noted the same three structures domi-

nating the horizon.

BALTHASAR:<<‘Cathedra.’>>

SCENE FIVE – EXT. DESERTED CITY

ATMOS: Bells and High Gothic voice still

audible but gradually lowering in volume

as we near the cathedral and the buzzing

noise grows louder.

BALTHASAR:<< ‘You should not have

split our number like that. If this is

a trap then far better we face it as

one.’>>

The Terminator sergeant walked side-by-

side with the company master, their pace

quickened by the urgency of reaching the

cathedral.

ZADAKIEL:<<‘There must be dozens of

cathedra in this city alone, not tak-

ing into account the rest of the plan-

et. We cover more ground this way.’>>

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Balthasar had no answer. The company mas-

ter’s logic was sound but he would have

felt more comfortable with four of his

heavily-armed Deathwing brothers at his

back.

The labyrinthine streets wound seemingly

randomly towards their objective, a world

of commemoration and worship concerned

primarily by ostentation rather than

practicality. More than once, the two

Dark Angels found themselves turning a

corner only to find that the spire of the

cathedral was now behind them, before the

street snaked around once more and put

them back on the correct bearing.

ZADAKIEL:<<‘Dardariel, Barachiel.

Report. How close are you?’>>

DARDARIEL:<<‘No more than a kilometre

in a straight line, but with these

streets? Hard to tell. We should have

reached it by now but this city must

have been designed by a lunatic.’>>

BARACHIEL:<<‘A lunatic with an aver-

sion to straight lines. My report is

likewise, Master Zadakiel though I’m

concerned that we’re rapidly losing

daylight. The dark is a perfect place

from which to spring an ambush.’>>

ZADAKIEL:<<‘Acknowledged. Report back

in when you reach your objectives.’>>

FX – Buzzing gradually growing louder

the closer they get to the cathedral.

Zadakiel cut the vox-link but the faint

The Ascension of Balthasar

35

buzzing sound in his ear persisted. He

blink-clicked the deactivation rune but

to no effect, so tapped the side of his

helm to kill the feed. But the noise

wasn’t being generated by his armour’s

vox-unit.

It was coming from somewhere in the city.

Balthasar had stopped in the middle of

the street, turning his head to locate

the sound and let his armour’s superior

technology process it.

ZADAKIEL:<<‘You hear it too. Where’s

it coming from?’>>

BALTHASAR:<<‘There. Straight

ahead.’>>

The sergeant raised his arm and pointed in

the direction of the cathedral. Without

instruction he set off at pace towards the

source of the noise, Zadakiel following

close behind.

The deserted lanes and promenades twisted

sharply this way and that, crazing like

cracks upon ice and leading the two Dark

Angels ever closer to the cathedral. The

closer they got, the louder the sound

became until they were able to distinguish

the buzzing as insect noise. The streets

began to widen and straighten until they

opened out into another broad plaza, the

cathedral sat majestically at its far

end. Upon catching sight of the complete

structure for the first time, Balthasar

opened the vox-link.

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BALTHASAR: <<‘What in the name of

Caliban is that?’>>

The Deathwing sergeant did not need to be

any more specific as it was obvious what

he was referring to. Though the spire

remained visible, the enormous baroque

structure of the cathedral was occluded

by a swirling black cloud, clinging to

the building’s outline and writhing with

an unnatural motion. The buzzing noise

emanated from the dark mass.

ZADAKIEL:<<‘Flies. It’s a cloud of

flies.’>>

Decades of service and experience came

to the fore. This was a sight he’d seen

too many times before on far-flung

battlefields, the wrecks of drifting sub-

warp craft and worlds given over to the

debased worship of dark gods.

ZADAKIEL:<<‘And flies in that number

usually mean one thing...’>>

The Terminator and the company master

picked up speed, sensing the mystery of

the population’s fate was about to be un-

ravelled.

BALTHASAR:<<‘Corpses.’>>

SCENE SIX – INT. CATHEDRAL

ATMOS: Buzzing still audible but knocked

back in the mix as the bulk of the flies

are outside the building. Voices still

echo but with a different quality as

we’re now inside a high-ceilinged build-

ing rather than city streets. Footsteps

splash in the pool of blood coating the

floor.

FX – Lightning claws smashing through

large wooden doors.

The Terminator’s lightning claws shattered

the ornate wooden doors of the cathedral

to reveal the horror within.

BALTHASAR:<<‘Throne…’>>

The scale of the massacre that had

occurred on Stern’s Remembrance was

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C Z Dunn

readily apparent to the Dark Angels. The

cathedral, at least four times larger

than the plaza they’d landed in and with

a vaulted roof barely visible from ground

level, was filled from floor to ceiling

with bodies. Just as it had been impossible

to look anywhere within that plaza without

seeing facsimiles of the Imperium’s dead,

a similar scene played out within this

house of worship, though the dead here

were no simulacra, no visages cast in

bronze or chiselled stone. The material

from which they were wrought was once

living flesh and no artistry had been

applied in their unmaking.

Their murderers had been indiscriminate

and all strata of the Ecclesiarchy world’s

society had been put to the butcher’s

blade. The corpse of a poor pilgrim girl,

her face streaked with grime, dress no

more than rags, lay at an awkward angle

over the cadaver of a priest, his once

fine robes now stained with blood and

viscera. An old, toothless woman, parts

of her torso missing from where she’d

been hacked to death, clinging to an icon

of the Emperor in hands rendered tight by

rigor mortis, was draped like a lover over

a serene looking clerk or bookkeeper. The

only evidence that he was in fact dead

and not sleeping was the hole through

his head from where a bullet had passed

through him.

Balthasar splashed through a thick pool

of blood coating the cathedral floor and

The Ascension of Balthasar

39

approached the charnel mound. His armour’s

systems filtered out the inevitable reek,

and he unceremoniously pulled one of the

corpses free. Several others surrounding

it also came loose and dropped to the

bloody ground, threatening to bring

the mountain of mortality down upon him

but it remained stable. He examined the

corpse closely.

BALTHASAR:<<‘Look at this.’>>

Zadakiel was nearby looking the pile of

corpses up and down as if tallying the

dead.

ZADAKIEL:<<’What is it?’>>

BALTHASAR:<<‘These wounds. They were

caused by bolter shells.’>>

He held out the corpse, the large aperture

through its chest obviously the work of a

mass-reactive round. Another voice made

itself heard over the vox.

BARACHIEL:<<‘Master Zadakiel, we’ve

reached the cathedral. It’s like an

abbatoir in here. Bodies. Thousands

of bodies everywhere, slaughtered

like livestock.’>>

ZADAKIEL:<<‘We found the same thing

here. I imagine we’ll find the same

in each and every cathedral on this

world, all of them turned into tombs

of the pious. Be on your guard, some

of the dead here fell to bolter

fire. If this wasn’t the work of the

Fallen then I’d hazard some kind of

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C Z Dunn

Archenemy involvement.’>>

BARACHIEL:<<‘Acknowledged. We’ll

complete our assessment and rendez-

vous back at the Thunderhawk. There

is nothing we can do for these people

now save avenge them.’>>

Zadakiel was just about to order Darda-

riel and Mendrion to do the same when he

noticed what had been left for them above

the hill of the dead.

SCENE SEVEN – INT. CATHEDRAL

ATMOS: As per Scene Six.

Balthasar sneered.

BALTHASAR:<<‘Warp magick.’>>

The coruscating orb of blue energy hung

suspended in mid-air, several metres

above the piled corpses. Though difficult

to make out with the naked eye, the Dark

Angels occulobes and enhanced suit optics

enabled them to view the incongruous

object as if it were right in front of

them.

ZADAKIEL:<<‘There’s something inside

it.’>>

The sapphire ball had a dark core, giving

it the impression of a vast eye left to

stand sentinel over a killer’s handiwork.

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BALTHASAR:<<‘What is that?’>> ZADAKIEL:<<‘Only one way to find

out.’>>

The company master’s hand strayed to a

finely crafted leather pouch on his belt

and popped a brass clasp to open it. He

reached inside and produced a shell manu-

factured from the same brass as the clasp.

Unlike a standard bolt round, this one

was intricately engraved with runes and

script, some of which cast a faint glow.

BALTHASAR:<<‘It would seem somebody

is on good terms with the Master of

the Forge.’>>

ZADAKIEL:<<‘This round was given to

me personally by Chaplain Boreas

after we fought alongside each other

in the liberation of the Kumenar

Gap and drove back the arch-daemon

Char Gar Kethekon. It is a specially

modified seeker round, inscribed with

litanies and wards that are anathema

to dwellers in the warp. Cast from a

metal that can only be found in mines

within the shadow of the Imperial

Palace on Terra, it has also been

blessed by thirteen living Imperial

Saints.’>>

FX – Sound of gun loading.

Zadakiel removed the clip from his combi-

bolter and replaced the topmost shell

of the full magazine with the elaborate

brass round. He slammed the clip back

The Ascension of Balthasar

43

into place and took aim at the blue globe.

ZADAKIEL:<<‘It had always been my

intention that it would be used

in the slaying of some daemonic

entity, though I imagine it is just

as effective against warp-born

sorcery. I never thought I’d fire it

in an Imperial cathedral, though,

considering its provenance, it seems

apt.’>>

The Company Master squeezed the trigger

and sent the blessed ammunition inexora-

bly towards its target.

FX – Bolter shot followed by energy ex-

plosion.

It impacted against the glowing sphere in

a blinding flash causing the two Space

Marines to avert their gaze, the sorcerous

burst of light being too much for their

armours’ visors to compensate for. With

the magick undone, the orb dissipated and

disgorged its contents, sending a black

figure crashing down the heap of corpses.

FX – Armoured figure sliding down a

mountain of corpses.

Bodies became dislodged as the dark form

slid over the dead and it tumbled towards

the Dark Angels at the toe of a macabre

avalanche comprised of limbs and torsos.

As abruptly as it began, the wave of

cadavers abated as it finally reached the

ground and bucked the dark figure from

its crest, sending it sprawling through

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the lake of blood at the feet of the Dark

Angels.

The strange newcomer wiped the blood and

gore from his black armour to reveal

winged dagger icons on each pauldron,

before looking up with his augmetic eyes

to find a combi-bolter and cyclone missile

launcher aimed at his metallic head.

The Fallen opened his mouth as if to

speak but instead issued forth a long and

satisfied laugh.

FX – Laughter.

ATTIAS:‘You fools.’

FX – More laughter.

ATTIAS:‘It’s a trap.’

SCENE EIGHT – INT. CATHEDRAL

ATMOS: As per Scene Six.

ZADAKIEL:‘Explain yourself, traitor.

Why have you done this?

Attias knelt facing a wall of the cathedral,

hands on the back of his head. Zadakiel

had performed a thorough search of the

Fallen and, satisfied that he was not

armed, commenced preliminary questioning.

The real meat of his interrogation would

come later once he was on board the Rock

and the Chaplains were able to set to

work on him.

ATTIAS:‘You give me too much credit,

brother. This wasn’t-‘

His answer was rudely interrupted by the

butt of the company master’s combi-bolter

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impacting hard against the back of his

neck.

FX – Clang of metal striking metal.

ZADAKIEL:‘Never, ever call me

“brother”. You and your kind lost

that privilege long ago.’

Though petty emotion had been conditioned

out of Zadakiel as it had all Space

Marines, the Dark Angel stood on the cusp

of something approaching anger. Though

ten thousand years had passed, the wounds

of treachery were still raw among his

Chapter and their successors. They were

dubbed ‘the Unforgiven’ and the capture

and ultimate repentance of the Fallen was

their sole route to benediction.

ZADAKIEL:‘Answer my question. Why did

you murder this planet?’

ATTIAS:‘I did not do this. I am

merely bait in the trap they set for

you, a trap that is being sprung even

as you waste time questioning me

here. Leave this place. Take me with

you to your ship and I will answer

your questions there. Let us go now

while we still have a chance to

escape.’

Balthasar circled the prisoner, his

cyclone missile launcher’s auto-targeting

system compensating and keeping the

shoulder mounted weapon constantly aimed

at the traitor’s head.

BALTHASAR:‘You wouldn’t be so keen to

The Ascension of Balthasar

47

go with us if you knew what was in

store for you.’

ATTIAS:‘Your Chaplains you mean?

Their constant quest to have us

Calibanites repent for the Schism.’

He turned his head towards Zadakiel

to judge his reaction.

ATTIAS:‘Oh, don’t look too surprised

company master, the current

incarnation of the Dark Angels aren’t

much better at keeping secrets than

they were in my day.’

ZADAKIEL:‘Perhaps, but we know how to

remain loyal, how to fulfil an oath.’

The two Dark Angels switched places,

Zadakiel taking up position in front of

the Fallen.

ATTIAS:‘You may be loyal, but that

loyalty blinds you as does your

dogged determination to see me and

my ilk repent. Twice now I have told

you that you are in the jaws of a

trap and twice you have ignored me.

Is capturing me so vital that you’re

prepared to risk your own lives and

those of your fellow Dark Angels?’

The capture of Attias, the capture of any

Fallen took precedence over everything,

though the company master had no inten-

tion of revealing that to a traitor.

ZADAKIEL:‘Very well, I’ll bite. Who

has laid this snare and left you and

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a murdered population as the lure?’

ATTIAS:‘A bloodthirsty bunch of

bastards who call themselves the

Crimson Slaughter. Though they are

not followers of the eightfold path,

their bloodlust would put Angron’s

dogs to shame. Their leader is the

worst of them, Kranon the Relentless,

constantly driving them to kill as if

murder was like sustenance to him.

This…’

He gestured at the dead stacked the entire

height of the voluminous cathedral.

ATTIAS:‘This is nothing to them. I’ve

seen them lay waste to worlds and

populations larger than this.’

BALTHASAR:‘Friends of yours are they,

Fallen?’

ATTIAS:‘If they were allies of mine

do you think they would have left me

suspended above a pile of corpses for

you to find?’

ZADAKIEL:‘Alliances are temporary

among your kind. No honour among

traitors.’

ATTAIS:‘I was their prisoner, you

fool. After I escaped you the last

time, I made it to the Eastern Fringe

and disappeared, found sanctuary. The

Imperium forgot me and I forgot it

until the night the Crimson Slaughter

came. The world I was sheltering on

had become the latest target of their

The Ascension of Balthasar

49

genocide and, though I took up arms

against them, their numbers were

overwhelming and they captured me.

Though I did not reveal it, they knew

of the Fallen, of the shame the Dark

Angels bear and sought to use it to

their advantage. To bait a trap in

which to ensnare you.’

Attias was once again looking directly at

Zadakiel.

ZADAKIEL:‘But why me? This is the

first I’ve heard of the Crimson

Slaughter and this Kranon the Relent-

less. What is it they want?’

ATTIAS:‘I do not know. They appear to

be searching for something, as if the

finding of it will release them from

a burden that hangs over them.’

A knowing smirk crossed the Fallen’s face

and Zadakiel turned away from the traitor.

ATTIAS:‘I’ve told you enough. My use-

fulness to them is at an end and I’m

as dead as you are if I’m still here

when they arrive.’

Zadakiel looked the Fallen up and down,

as if trying to measure the honesty of

his words. Replacing the helmet he had

removed so that he could look upon the

traitor with his own eyes, he turned to

the Deathwing sergeant.

ZADAKIEL:<<‘Sergeant Balthasar, we

will escort-‘>>

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C Z Dunn

Captain Selenaz’s voice crashed abruptly

across the vox.

SELENAZ:<<‘My lord, dozens of ves-

sels have just translated in-system

and engaged us.’>>

FX – distant explosions over the vox.

SELENAZ:<<‘There are too many of

them. I need to-’>>

The line abruptly went dead.

ZADAKIEL:<<‘Captain Selenaz, move

the Pride of Caliban out of orbit

and commence defensive manoeuvres.

Be ready for warp translation as

soon as we’re back on board.’>>

The vox returned only static. The company

master had no idea whether Captain Selenaz

had heard his last communication.

ZADAKIEL:<<‘On your feet, trai-

tor.’>>

Attias rose and for the first time it

became apparent just how much bigger

the Fallen was than the company master,

being closer in height to the Terminator

armoured figure of Balthasar.

ZADAKIEL:<<‘Dardariel, Barachiel.

Immediate extraction. Get back to

the Thunderhawk now! ’>>

BARACHIEL:<<‘Affirmative.’>>

DARDARIEL:<<‘Affirmative.’>>

FX – loud impact noises from outside

The Ascension of Balthasar

51

the cathedral, buildings collapsing.

(Note: not explosions)

ZADAKIEL:<<‘What was that?’>>

Balthasar approached one of the cyclo-

pean stained glass windows and casual-

ly punched through it with a lightning

claw, rainbow shards of glass tumbling

to the stone floor. Through the broken

aperture they saw hundreds of drop-pods

falling from the sky, a storm of death

raining destruction on a city raised in

veneration of the God-Emperor of Man-

kind.

ATTIAS:<<‘They’re here.’>>

SCENE NINE – EXT. CITY.

ATMOS: Drop-pods continue to impact and

the streets are filling up with cultists.

Weapon noise (chainswords, autoguns, las-

guns) can be heard.

BALTHASAR:<<‘Enemy left!’>>

Heeding the Terminator’s warning, Zada-

kiel swept his combi-bolter around and

annihilated the squad of cultists emerg-

ing from the newly landed drop pods. The

serene city had turned into a vista of

wanton destruction, the bulbous craft

smashing through the tall buildings on

their way to the ground. Where once stood

a baroque marvel to the Emperor’s glory,

now lay rubble over which climbed the

footsoldiers of the arch-enemy.

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C Z Dunn

A cultist emerged from behind the cover

of what was once a hab-block and took

aim at Balthasar with a lasgun. He

managed to squeeze off two shots, both

of which bounced harmlessly from the

Tactical Dreadnought armour, before the

Space Marine cut the attacker down with

an inhumanly quick swipe of a lightning

claw. Several more emerged from the same

bolthole but Zadakiel was alert to the

danger and felled them with bolter fire

before they presented any threat.

ATTIAS:‘Give me your bolt pistol.’

Attias, running alongside the company

master, gestured to the holster at Zada-

kiel’s waist.

ATTIAS:‘There are too many for the

two of you to deal with. Let me add

some firepower to the battle.’

ZADAKIEL:<<‘You are our prisoner, not

our ally.’>>

ATTIAS:‘What good am I to your inter-

rogators if I’m dead? These cultists

are trying just as hard to kill me as

they are you.’

As if to emphasise his point, a shaven-

headed cultist, eyes as red as blood and

daubed with blasphemous icons, leapt

towards the black-armoured Dark Angel,

whirring chainsword arcing above his head

ready to strike a debilitating blow. With

his assailant still mid-leap, Attias

struck out a powerful fist and decapitated

The Ascension of Balthasar

55

the cultist. He stopped to kneel down and

retrieve the chainsword but had not even

placed a finger on it when he felt the

muzzle of Zadakiel’s combi-bolter press

against his face.

ZADAKIEL:<<‘Traitor...’>>

ATTIAS:‘I know how important it is to

you that you get me back to the last

remnants of Caliban alive.’

The company master saw his own helmeted

visage reflected back at him by Attias’s

expressionless metal face.

ZADAKIEL:<<‘Why don’t you reach for

that chainsword and find out?’>>

The Fallen hesitated for a moment

before lifting himself from the ground.

More cultists were converging on their

position and while Balthasar was so far

containing them with lightning claws and

cyclone missiles, he needed the support

of the company master to clear a path out

of the plaza and back to the Thunderhawk.

ATTIAS:‘So be it, but I doubt your

Chaplains will be able to question my

corpse.’

With Zadakiel shooting a path through the

mass of cultists, Attias followed in his

wake dealing with any that the two Dark

Angels didn’t finish off with blows from

his gauntleted fists or armoured feet. A

gap cleared in the cultists’ ranks, though

there was hardly anything organised about

their formation, and a route to the street

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they had used to approach the cathedral

opened up before them. Balthasar stepped

into the breach, lightning claws slashing

at onrushing attackers.

ZADAKIEL:<<‘Down here, back the way

we came!’>>

He loosed off another volley of shots,

downing a group of cultists attempting

to set up a heavy bolter in the road

ahead, and, with Attias in tow, exited

the plaza. With the flow of enemies seem-

ingly ceaseless, Balthasar was forced to

retreat, lightning claws crackling as he

chopped down the pack of cultists who had

given chase. Zadakiel shot from the hip,

his torso twisted at a forty-five degree

angle so as not to impede forward move-

ment but also to allow him to fire back-

wards.

The street twisted placing ruined

buildings between the Dark Angels and

the pursuing cultists. Without having to

fight a rearguard, the Space Marines were

able to pick up pace.

They were almost at the junction that led

to the final street before the plaza and

the waiting Thunderhawk when a violent

tremor shook the ground beneath them.

Even in the bulk of their armour, the

three Space Marines had to draw to a halt

to keep their balance.

FX – Thud and rattling of buildings.

Already damaged buildings shook and

The Ascension of Balthasar

57

threatened to collapse under this new

vibrational onslaught.

BALTHASAR:<<‘Orbital bombardment?’>> ZADAKIEL:<<‘Why do that now with

their own forces planetside?’>>

FX – Another thud.

Their pursuers rounded the corner but

upon hearing the clamour, many of them

turned and fled in terror. Those few

brave enough to remain were easy targets

for Zadakiel.

FX – Thuds, gradually getting closer

together until they’re at a running

pace.

Some of the more precarious ruins began to

deposit masonry from their upper reaches

onto the street below. As the source of

the tremors grew nearer, keeping their

footing became more and more of an effort

for the Dark Angels. Even Balthasar in

his heavy Terminator armour had to widen

his stance.

Then, just as the noise and vibrations

were about to bring the street down around

them, the source revealed itself.

An immense figure lumbered around the

corner and issued forth an ungodly howl

that registered somewhere between anger

and agony.

FX – Ungodly howl registering somewhere

between anger and agony.

Armoured entirely in crimson, the thing stood many metres high, almost as tall

as some of the smaller buildings and

over double the height of Balthasar.

Its face resembled some twisted parody

of humanity, contorted as it was with

tortured features. The only other

vestiges of organic material were the

hideous blue tentacles sprouting from one

side of its torso and unblinking eyes

set into the thing’s chest. Its left arm

was not unlike that of a power armoured

Space Marine, though on a larger scale,

but its other had been replaced with a

multi-melta which it aimed squarely at

the three figures in its path.

ZADAKIEL:<<‘Helbrute.’>>

The company master said before diving out

of the way of the beast’s cannonade.

FX – Melta blast.

58

SCENE TEN – EXT. CITY

ATMOS: Drop pods still crashing to the

ground, though less frequently. The cult-

ists have stopped firing but the noise of

the horde is still audible.

Zadakiel hit the rockrete street surface

and rolled away as the blast of the

Helbrute’s weapon vitrified the space

he’d just vacated. He sprang back to his

feet and instinctively loosed off several

shots, all of which bounced harmlessly

off the beast’s thick armour.

BALTHASAR:<<‘For the Lion!’>>

The Terminator’s battle cry drew the

Helbrute’s attention and Balthasar

charged, both crackling lightning claws

aloft. He threw himself at the monster

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C Z Dunn

and raked the beast’s side, gouging its

aberrant metal hide and severing the tip

of one of its tentacles.

FX – Roar of pain.

Like a wounded animal, the Helbrute’s

reaction was to lash out and its enormous

arm flailed wildly, almost striking

the Deathwing sergeant who avoided the

blow at the last moment before opening

up with his cyclone missile launcher.

Three missiles screeched across the

short distance between the Dark Angel

and Helbrute and all of them found their

mark. Two impacted against its chest,

causing no more that superficial damage,

but the third struck it in the face

drawing another roar of pain.

FX – Roar of pain.

ZADAKIEL:<<‘Aim for its head!’>>

The thing swung maniacally, trying

to backhand anything within striking

distance. More missiles launched from

the Terminator’s shoulder mount and all

hit the beast, though none found their

mark at its weak point. The Helbrute’s

multi-melta powered up again and it

twisted its torso to point the weapon

directly at Balthasar. Though lacking

the manoeuvrability of the more lightly

armoured company master, the Deathwing

was still able to avoid the blinding beam

of super-intense heat. While the Helbrute

was still trying to ascertain whether

it had hit anything, the Terminator

The Ascension of Balthasar

61

was alongside it and slashed with both

lightning claws.

FX – Roar of pain.

The warp-forged metal afforded the beast

no small measure of protection and though

Balthasar’s claws marked the Helbrute

they did not crack the thick plates.

Zadakiel poured on yet more fire, slowly

advancing on the Helbrute who was forced

to raise its non-weaponed arm to pro-

tect its vulnerable fleshy face. As the

company master drew closer, he switched

from bolt shells to plasma bursts, his

combi-weapon kitted out to fire both.

With the beast cornered by the

ministrations of the two Dark Angels,

its basest instincts took over and it

put its head down and charged, desperate

to escape. The Helbrute’s guard lowered,

Zadakiel held his ground until the last

moment directing all fire at the thing’s

head. Though he was able to remove

himself from the beast’s path, it caught

him with a glancing blow as it careered

past him, knocking him from his feet and

sending his weapon spinning away down

the rubble-strewn street.

Regaining his bearings as he rose, Zada-

kiel looked for his weapon but found only

Attias, combi-bolter in hand. He hefted

it to his shoulder and looked out over

the barrel as if aiming a hunting rifle.

Closing one augmetic eye to sight his

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target, he exhaled and made his shot.

FX – Time slows and background noise

becomes indistinct, as if underwater.

Dual heartbeats can be heard. Run over

onto first line of next scene.

SCENE ELEVEN – EXT. CITY

ATMOS: As per Scene Ten.

The bolt shell glided past Zadakiel so

closely that its passing caused his cloak

to billow slightly, before finding its

intended target.

FX – Explosion of bolt shell.

The mass-reactive exploded against the

Helbrute’s cheek, gouging out chunks of

its face and eliciting another pained

dirge.

FX – Roar of pain.

ATTIAS:‘At least now we stand a

chance, “brother”.’

Zadakiel drew his sword, the ebony pall

of his Heavenfall Blade a match for the

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shade of the Fallen’s armour.

ZADAKIEL:‘This changes nothing. Be-

fore this day is out, there will be a

reckoning.’

ATTIAS:‘Of that, I have no doubt, but

for now let me fight shoulder-to-

shoulder with a Dark Angel for the

first time in 10,000 years.’

Attias raised the combi-bolter again, Za-

dakiel did likewise with his sword and

both Space Marines charged the rampaging

Helbrute.

The combined firepower of Balthasar’s

missiles and Attias’s gunfire forced the

Helbrute onto the back foot and Zadakiel

was able to get close enough to the beast

for his blade to be effective. Ducking

and weaving under the thrashing power

fist, the company master opened rents

in its armour, exposing the warped and

mutated organics protected by its crimson

shell. Its multi-melta swung around ready

to make another shot but a well-placed

cyclone missile forced it wide.

Then, just when it looked like the Dark

Angels had gained the advantage, every-

thing fell apart.

The wild melta blast struck the base of

a nearby building, fusing the ferrocrete

and weakening its integrity. No longer

able to support the intense weight of

the floors above it, the front portion

of the ground floor shattered like

The Ascension of Balthasar

65

glass, allowing gravity to do its work.

With concussive thuds, the building

concertinaed, throwing up a cloud of dust

as it collapsed.

FX – tall building collapsing.

SCENE TWELVE – EXT. CITY

ATMOS: The aftermath of the building

collapsing. Grit and debris is still

raining down.

The dust hung like smoke over the street

and even with the Space Marines’ en-

hanced senses it was difficult to see

through the pall. As the motes of dust

began to settle to the ground, a figure

resolved, clad in green power armour.

ZADAKIEL:<<‘Balthasar? Report.

Balthasar. Come in. Where are

you?’>>

The vox returned only static.

FX – thuds of Helbrute footfalls like

earlier.

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C Z Dunn

Somewhere within the swirl of dust the

beast still lived.

ZADAKIEL:<<‘Balthasar? Come in.’>> FX – longish burst of vox-static.

BALTHASAR:<<‘I am unhurt. I was on the

other side of the structure when it

came down. The street is completely

blocked though. I can’t make it back

to your position.’>>

ZADAKIEL:<<‘Did the Fallen survive? Is

he with you?’>>

BALTHASAR:<<‘Affirmative.’>>

ZADAKIEL:<<‘Get him to the Thunderhawk

and back to the Pride of Caliban.’>>

BALTHASAR:<<‘But master, I cannot

leave you to face that beast alone.’>>

ZADAKIEL:<<‘Returning the traitor to

The Rock is the only thing that mat-

ters. Leave me and deliver our prison-

er to the Interrogator-Chaplains.’>>

FX – longish burst of static.

ZADAKIEL:<<‘Balthasar?’>>

BALTHASAR:<<‘As you command, Master

Zadakiel.’>>

FX – Helbrute roars.

The dust cloud dispersed and the Helbrute

charged.

SCENE THIRTEEN – EXT. CITY

ATMOS: As per Scene Ten.

Zadakiel swung low with the Heavenfall

Blade, sparks flying as it made contact

with the Helbrute’s armoured leg. Forged

from obsidian salvaged from a meteorite

that had struck the Rock millennia

before, the sword - known as Fellbane

- was one of a set all of which were

in the possession of the highest ranking

officers of the Dark Angels inner circle.

It was virtually indestructible and, as

both a symbol of office and tool of war,

was irreplaceable. The blade came free

cleanly and the company master rotated

it expertly, waiting for the beast’s next

move.

A melta-blast scorched the road beside

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Zadakiel opening up another crater in an

already pockmarked cityscape. A handful of

cultists, brave enough to investigate the

source of the commotion but too cowardly

to get any closer, had taken up position

further down the street to witness the

duel. Many minutes had passed since he

had become separated from Balthasar and

the Fallen and, though he had survived

the beast’s onslaught, that was all he

was doing.

Zadakiel feinted to one side at the

Helbrute’s next charge but could only

connect with the flat of his blade rather

than inflict any meaningful damage. The

thing pulled up short to avoid colliding

with the façade of a ruined building and

swayed uneasily under the sudden arrest

of momentum. Seizing his opportunity,

Zadakiel gripped Fellbane tight and

went in low again, dipping to allow

the Helbrute’s thrashing arm to sail

harmlessly over his head.

ZADAKIEL:<<‘For the Lion and the

Emperor!’>>

FX – Roar of pain.

The sword found purchase between two

armoured plates, and the blade slid up

into the meat of the beast’s torso, sickly

coloured ichor desecrating the heirloom

weapon.

The Helbrute bucked and the company mas-

ter withdrew the blade, spinning it ready

for another thrust but failed to notice

The Ascension of Balthasar

71

the wriggling tentacles at the thing’s

side. One of them lashed out with pre-

ternatural swiftness, tightly grasping

Zadakiel’s ankle and yanking him to the

ground.

FX – Bellow of triumph.

With a speed that seemed impossible for

something of its vast bulk, the Helbrute

was over the Dark Angel in an instant,

heavy foot poised for the killing blow.

Muttering a devotion to his Chapter and

primarch, Zadakiel was prepared to face

his doom.

But his doom never came.

FX – Whine of missiles followed by

explosion and building collapsing.

Telegraphed by the sound of air to ground

ordnance, a missile slammed into one of

the buildings, exploding outwards in a

torrent of debris and driving a violent

shockwave along the street. Those cult-

ists not fortunate enough to be knocked

from their feet were either buried in a

deluge of rubble, or eviscerated by sharp

rock-sized shrapnel. Enormous tranches of

masonry cascaded down onto the Helbrute,

muffling its anguished cries as it was

buried under tonnes of rockcrete and

steel.

FX – Thunderhawk engines.

Removing a boulder that had pinned his

leg, Zadakiel winced in pain as he lifted

himself to his feet. He looked up to see

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C Z Dunn

the source of his salvation and there,

in the void where the destroyed building

once stood was the familiar green nose

of a Dark Angels Thunderhawk. The front

hatch was lowered and stood in stark con-

trast to the dark interior of the craft’s

troop hold was the bone-white figure of

Sergeant Balthasar.

ZADAKIEL:‘Did you misunderstand my

orders, sergeant?’

BALTHASAR:‘The vox-link was poor.’

The Company Master gave an amused

snort.

BALTHASAR:‘We need to move now. We

spotted Traitor Astartes on our

flight over converging on this posi-

tion. Are you badly wounded?’

Zadakiel glanced down at the dented and

split greave of his armour.

ZADAKIEL:‘I can still walk.’

With some effort, he made his way up the

impromptu boarding ramp formed by the

mound of rubble from the ruined building.

The Thunderhawk pilot brought the craft

down until it was hovering only a couple

of metres above it.

The company master reached out and gripped

the edge of the hatch but, just as he was

about to haul himself up, the debris gave

way beneath him.

FX – Howl of rage.

The Ascension of Balthasar

73

An enormous crimson claw thrust out

and seized his damaged leg, followed

by the shoulders and upper body of the

raging Helbrute. The beast tugged at the

stricken Dark Angel seemingly oblivious

to the weapons fire poured against it by

Balthasar and the other Terminators who

had now joined him at the hatch.

One of Zadakiel’s hands came free under

the strain and he reached down to his

scabbard and gripped the hilt of Fell-

bane. He looked back over his shoulder and saw that the Helbrute had freed its

other arm and was slowly bringing the

multi-melta to bear on the Thunderhawk.

At this range a weapon of such devastat-

ing power would bring the craft down.

With only seconds before the Helbrute

fired, Zadakiel made his choice.

Drawing the Heavenfall Blade, he lofted

it over his head and tossed it into the

troop compartment of the Thunderhawk.

BALTHASAR:<<‘Master Zadakiel, no…’>> ZADAKIEL:<<‘For the sake of the mission, Balthasar. Make sure my sacri-

fice is not in vain and extract that

traitor’s repentance.’>>

With those final words, Zadakiel relin-

quished his grip on the hatch and was

yanked violently to the ground by the

crimson hulk. He made no sound as the

Helbrute set about his murder, facing

his death with the dignity and courage

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C Z Dunn

of a true son of the Lion.

FX – wet thuds of a body being pulped.

As the Thunderhawk gained altitude and

turned to begin its journey back to the

Pride of Caliban, the last that Squad

Balthasar saw of the Master of Fifth Com-

pany was of the Helbrute slamming his limp

body to the ground over and over again.

Defiant to the last, Zadakiel died with

his bolt pistol in hand, futilely blast-

ing away at his heavily-armoured killer.

Even as the ramp slammed shut, the five

Terminators remained immobile, eyes

transfixed as if staring at the bulkhead

could somehow erase the horror they had

just witnessed. Attias, suspended from

the ceiling of the Thunderhawk by thick

chains that bound his arms and legs, made

to speak. Before he could utter a sound,

Mendrion’s fist lashed out and struck him

in the face, rendering the Fallen uncon-

scious, his black armoured form hanging

slack in his restraints.

FX – clang of metal on metal.

The Deathwing took their places in the

troop compartment and continued their

journey in silence.

EPILOGUE – INT. MEDICAE.

PRIDE OF CALIBAN.

ATMOS: Background rumble of spacecraft

engines.

Balthasar sat on the edge of the treatment

table, Chapter serfs tending his wounds

as there was no Apothecary on board the

Pride of Caliban. Though Terminator armour

was formidable, it did not make a Space

Marine invulnerable and the bruising

and cuts to his body were testament to

the vicious battle with the Helbrute.

The battle that had cost Company Master

Zadakiel his life.

The escape from Stern’s Remembrance had

been perilous and the Thunderhawk had run

the gauntlet of fire right up until it

touched down in the landing bay, such was

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C Z Dunn

the overwhelming number of enemy craft.

The fact that there was a Pride of Caliban

to return to at all was thanks to the

unparalleled skill of Selenaz as a ship’s

captain. After making an emergency warp

translation to get the ship out of the

combat zone, her battle report indicated

that she’d destroyed or crippled seven

enemy craft, including a strike cruiser

believed to have been looted from the Iron

Hands Chapter. Though the destruction of

so many enemy vessels and the capture of a

notorious Fallen would normally be cause

for celebration, because of the loss of

Zadakiel, the Deathwing could find little

glory in the day’s events.

The door to the medicae irised open and

Captain Selenaz stepped in, data-slate in

hand. The Chapter serfs finished their

ministrations and took their leave.

BALTHASAR:‘Have we made contact with

the Rock yet?’

SELENAZ:‘Yes, my lord. Warp tides

permitting, we should be there within

three weeks Terran standard.’

Her sentence seemed somehow unfinished,

as if there as more she wouldn’t, or

couldn’t, say. She had been a servant of

the Dark Angels long enough to know that

they harboured many secrets and would go

to any lengths to keep them. Even now,

she knew nothing of the black-armoured

prisoner shackled in a two metre-square

cell deep within the bowels of the ship,

The Ascension of Balthasar

77

at least two members of the Deathwing

squad standing guard over him at all

times.

BALTHASAR:‘Is that all?’

She stood nervously in front of the seated

Space Marine and, head still bowed, held

out the data-slate.

SELENAZ:‘We intercepted a subspace

transmission from the enemy fleet

just before we made the warp

translation. At first we took it to

be garbled orders or mindless Chaos

dogma but one of the lex-savants was

able to break the encryption.’

BALTHASAR:‘And?’

SELENAZ:‘It was a message, my lord.’

She raised her head and looked the Dark

Angel square in the eyes to deliver the

last part of the sentence, eager to rein-

force the veracity of her words.

SELENAZ:‘Intended for you I believe,

though I have not watched it, I

assure you.’

BALTHASAR:‘Leave.’

She nodded a small bow and exited the

medicae chamber. Balthasar thumbed the

activator stud and the data-slate’s

screen flickered to life. A burst of

grey static hissed briefly before it was

usurped by the grainy image of a Traitor

Marine. Only the upper half of his crimson

armoured body was in-shot and, just below

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C Z Dunn

the horned helmet he wore, a shrunken

head sat embedded in his breast plate,

just visible under his blue cloak. When

the Traitor Marine spoke, the tiny face

did too, though whether in mimicry or

direction, Balthasar could not tell.

KRANON:‘Dark Angel, Dark Angel.

Such a pity we could not meet face

to face. To do battle with a Space

Marine descended from the First

Legion would have been an honour

indeed. Killing you even more so.’

Interference crazed across the

screen. When it resolved itself, the

background was clearer and Balthasar

realised that the message had been

broadcast from the surface of Stern’s

Remembrance.

KRANON:‘Did you like my gift? It was

supposed to have been an exchange,

of course. I give you one of your

traitors and take one of you alive in

return but things didn’t go quite to

plan. Mortis Metallikus never could

look after his toys.’

The image panned away to show the dor-

mant Helbrute in the distance. There was

something different though, something had

been added to it. A banner of some kind.

KRANON:‘But he is fond of his new

plaything.’

The image zoomed in on the beast’s new

adornment and Balthasar bristled in rage

The Ascension of Balthasar

79

when he realised what it was. There,

suspended limply from the banner pole,

was the battered body of Master Zadakiel,

unrecognisable except for the green of

his armour and the tattered remnants of

his ivory cloak. The data-slate lingered

on the image for an uncomfortably long

time before focusing back on the Traitor

Marine.

KRANON:‘That just boils your blood,

doesn’t it? To see him like that.

You’re angry, aren’t you? We’ve

killed one of your own and, by giving

up one of the Fallen, revealed that

we know your dirty little secret. You

can’t live with that, can you Dark

Angel? You can’t let that rest. It’ll

gnaw at you constantly until you’ve

hunted us down and extracted your

revenge. Tug at the very fibre of

your being until we are nothing more

than smoking corpses and a footnote

in the annals of your Chapter.’

Balthasar could feel his skin redden-

ing as his choler rose.

KRANON:‘I know we’ll meet some day,

Dark Angel. And I know we’ll duel. In

fact…’

The image zoomed in tight on the gruesome

faceplate of the Traitor’s helm.

KRANON:‘I’m counting on it.’

The screen went blank and Balthasar’s

anger ploughed aside all other emotions.

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He took the data-slate and threw it against

the cold steel bulkhead, shattering it

into thousands of pieces.

FX – data-slate shattering against metal

wall.

Vaulting down from the treatment table,

Balthasar strode determinedly from the

medicae chamber, his first steps on the

path to dark vengeance.

A BLACK LIBRARY PUBLICATION

First published in Great Britain in 2012 by

Black Library,

Games Workshop Ltd.,

Willow Road, Nottingham,

NG7 2WS, UK.

© Games Workshop Limited 2012. All rights reserved.

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