Home Fires – Chapter Twelve: Legacy
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Valleraus grunted in frustration.
“Spare me, Valleraus.” Antonius snapped. He ran his hands over the dents and scars in his formerly brand-new armour. “Repairing battle damage is your duty.”
“Yes, my lord. However, one wonders whether it was worth it…”
“You think fighting Orks is an unworthy endeavor?”
“No.” Valleraus hammered. “But risking the Captain of our company to the blades of the enemy when there were dozens of bolt rifles to do the job smacks of both haste and hubris…”
“It was necessary.” Antonius countered.
“Oh? For the cameras?” Valleraus’ voice was full of snark.
“Yes, Valleraus. For the bloody cameras.” Antonius said, forcing calmness into his tone. “Governor Sterling needed battle footage. And, because she made me the face of this endeavor, I, personally, needed to engage the enemy. Preferably in a showy manner.”
“We are warriors. Not showmen.” Valleraus spat.
“We are what the Imperium requires us to be. You know as well as I that morale wins more wars than bolt rounds. Propaganda is a weapon, and we as Astartes are masters of every weapon in our arsenal.”
“…and if you had gotten yourself killed?” Valleraus countered. “What value would there be in pict captures of Orks hacking your lifeless body apart?”
Antonius faltered. “Sterling would never show that.”
“Unless it suited her purposes. The woman is a politician, my Lord.”
“The blood of martyrs is the seed of the Imperium, Valleraus.”
Valleraus snorted. “That is true, but denying us the Scion of Atrus for such a purpose seems like a poor trade.”
Before Antonius could answer he felt a pressure on his mind. A memory floated up, unbidden. A memory that was not his own.
A bearded Astartes with a kind face, sporting ancient spectacles, and clad in the livery of an Azure Flames Librarian, reached a hand down to him. In this vision, his view was low to the ground.
“Come with me.” The vision of the Librarian said in a regal, grandfatherly tone. Antonius recognized it as none other than the former leader of the chapter; his gene-father Atrus.
He shook the effects of the memory off, and turned. Ory-Hara was in the doorway of the Honor’s armoury.
“If you’ll excuse me, Valleraus.” Antonius said. Valleraus grunted in reply. Antonius approached Ory-Hara who swept out of the room, trailing his cloak dramatically. Antonius felt a twinge of irritation but followed the silent one as he almost floated down the corridors. Ory-Hara led Antonius to the storage bay, and shut the hatch behind them, leaving them alone in the echoey chamber.
“What is it?” Antonius said, keeping his irritation on a short leash.
Ory-Hara gently removed his rebreather. For probably the fourth time in his life, he laid eyes on the hawkish face of the reclusive Librarian.
“Computer,” Ory-Hara intoned, “…disengage security locks on Reliquary Zero-Five-One. Authorization: Diamond.”
One of the larger containers mounted on the wall chirped; its lights turning from amber to green. Fog issued forth from within; the preserved gases crashing with the atmosphere of the room. As the fog spilled from the container and covered the floor of the room, Antonius gasped.
His father was in there.
“What is this?” Antonius shouted.
“A relic.” Ory-Hara replied. “Your father wanted you to have it. Eventually.”
It was only now that Antonius realized that this was not the full sarcophagus that Atrus had been interred within; it was just the faceplate. A tall oblong slab, rimmed in gold-plate. In the center, a sculpted book, with a brilliant blue flame, ruined with an ugly rent torn through it. The wound that had killed Atrus; delivered by the hated Esharradon using the daemonsword that Atrus had died to destroy. Below, Atrus’ name was emblazoned in script. Above, a slit which provided the former occupant with vision for his dead eyes.
“What the hell am I supposed to do with this?” Antonius blurted.
Ory-Hara, almost smug with revelation, went wide-eyed as his mouth dropped open.
“It’s a relic, Antonius. You are an Astartes Captain. You carry them into battle to inspire.” Ory-Hara said heartbeats later, after composing himself.
“How am I supposed…” Antonius said before cutting off. Then, he began laughing.
“Is this humorous to you?” Ory-Hara said cautiously.
“No, I’m sorry, it’s just that I can solve both of my problems at once.” He said, hefting the slab. “Good, not too heavy.”
“I had figured that you would have some sort of acolyte or standard bearer hold it aloft for you.”
“I’m not going to bother anyone else with this.”
“What will you do?” Or-Hara asked.
Antonius smiled. “I’m going to weld it onto one of the new tower shields.”
Ory-Hara raised an eyebrow. “I… did not anticipate this. Would it not be at risk?”
“Oh, don’t be a baby. It will be protected by a force field. And so will I.” Antonius said, holding the slab with one hand while swinging it on his other forearm. “Yes. Let’s see Valleraus complain now.”
Ory-Hara masked a sigh by replacing his rebreather.