lights could be seen inside that space. At this distance, still many kilometres out, Karras could just make out the flanks of other, larger ships already docked there, gripped in position by a profusion of thick metal arms and magnetic clamps.
Minutes passed. The mouth of the docking bay gaped wider. It was elaborately crafted, a bas-relief of countless leering skulls worked into the metal of the aperture’s broad border. In the centre of that relief was a skull far larger than the others and bearing a certain distinct difference. Karras was all too familiar with that icon. It was the skull motif of the Deathwatch, easily identifiable by the glowing red lens in its left eye socket, and the crossed bones behind it. If he was judged worthy, Karras would bear that very icon on his left pauldron.
I am worthy. I should not doubt it. I would not have been called otherwise.
He wished he felt as certain of that as he ought to.
To either side of the docking bay, a great statue stood guard. Each was a robed manifestation of death almost a kilometre in height, its grinning skull partly covered by a sculpted hood. Karras marvelled at the detail. Even the texture of the fabric had been worked into the dark stone. In bony fingers, the statue on the left held open a thick book. It stood posed with hollow eye sockets cast down, as if caught frozen in time, reading from stone pages. The statue on the left held the haft of a massive sword in a two-handed grip, blade pointed down, tip planted between skeletal feet. This figure’s hollow gaze was turned outwards into space.
Each of these skeletal giants stood atop a plinth that jutted out from the edge of the hangar’s mouth. On the plinth of the book-reading figure, the inscription read, With strength of mind, you shall discern their weakness . On the plinth of the sword-bearing one was inscribed, With strength of body, you shall exploit that weakness.
Body and mind both; ignore one and you undermined the other. Irrefutable. No warrior worth his steel could afford to forget it.
The Adonai shifted a fraction, imperceptibly but for Karras’s heightened senses. Her starboard thrusters flared briefly, compensating further for the ring’s clockwise rotation, after which her approach vector was perfectly matched to the movement of the dock. Karras could make out smaller ships now. The inner dimensions of the docking bay staggered him. He had seen none bigger save the unrivalled facilities at the segmentum’s Naval headquarters, Kar Duniash. He counted over forty ships of varying size, none much smaller than the Adonai . Around each craft, maintenance drones weaved a slow, shifting dance as they moved silently to and fro on jets of hot plasma. Some would stop, clamp themselves to the hull of this or that ship, and swing articulated arms into play. The bright glare of oxy-acetylene torches was everywhere. Fountains of sparks rained bright and brief.
Slow, steady and smooth, the Adonai passed within the great mouth of the docking bay.
Flying servitor drones swarmed out to meet the craft and assist it in coming to rest.
Orlesi’s voice sounded from small speakers worked cleverly into the room’s chandelier. ‘All personnel brace for docking.’
The ship swung to port, and the view shifted. A mass of metal gantries and loading cranes passed by on the left and right. Cables swung from beams and junction boxes, hanging everywhere like vines in a dense jungle. Clouds of greasy steam hissed from massive wall-vents. Karras could see red-robed tech-priests and servitor slaves scurrying or trundling back and forth along metal walkways and hazard-striped landings. Huge servo-arms reached out to grasp the hull of the Adonai . There was a mighty clang. The ship shuddered to a halt. The thrumming of its engines faded and stopped.
It was then that Karras’s eyes were drawn to a figure hovering in the shadow of a dark doorway directly in front of the ship. The silhouette was bulky, its lines
Minutes passed. The mouth of the docking bay gaped wider. It was elaborately crafted, a bas-relief of countless leering skulls worked into the metal of the aperture’s broad border. In the centre of that relief was a skull far larger than the others and bearing a certain distinct difference. Karras was all too familiar with that icon. It was the skull motif of the Deathwatch, easily identifiable by the glowing red lens in its left eye socket, and the crossed bones behind it. If he was judged worthy, Karras would bear that very icon on his left pauldron.
I am worthy. I should not doubt it. I would not have been called otherwise.
He wished he felt as certain of that as he ought to.
To either side of the docking bay, a great statue stood guard. Each was a robed manifestation of death almost a kilometre in height, its grinning skull partly covered by a sculpted hood. Karras marvelled at the detail. Even the texture of the fabric had been worked into the dark stone. In bony fingers, the statue on the left held open a thick book. It stood posed with hollow eye sockets cast down, as if caught frozen in time, reading from stone pages. The statue on the left held the haft of a massive sword in a two-handed grip, blade pointed down, tip planted between skeletal feet. This figure’s hollow gaze was turned outwards into space.
Each of these skeletal giants stood atop a plinth that jutted out from the edge of the hangar’s mouth. On the plinth of the book-reading figure, the inscription read, With strength of mind, you shall discern their weakness . On the plinth of the sword-bearing one was inscribed, With strength of body, you shall exploit that weakness.
Body and mind both; ignore one and you undermined the other. Irrefutable. No warrior worth his steel could afford to forget it.
The Adonai shifted a fraction, imperceptibly but for Karras’s heightened senses. Her starboard thrusters flared briefly, compensating further for the ring’s clockwise rotation, after which her approach vector was perfectly matched to the movement of the dock. Karras could make out smaller ships now. The inner dimensions of the docking bay staggered him. He had seen none bigger save the unrivalled facilities at the segmentum’s Naval headquarters, Kar Duniash. He counted over forty ships of varying size, none much smaller than the Adonai . Around each craft, maintenance drones weaved a slow, shifting dance as they moved silently to and fro on jets of hot plasma. Some would stop, clamp themselves to the hull of this or that ship, and swing articulated arms into play. The bright glare of oxy-acetylene torches was everywhere. Fountains of sparks rained bright and brief.
Slow, steady and smooth, the Adonai passed within the great mouth of the docking bay.
Flying servitor drones swarmed out to meet the craft and assist it in coming to rest.
Orlesi’s voice sounded from small speakers worked cleverly into the room’s chandelier. ‘All personnel brace for docking.’
The ship swung to port, and the view shifted. A mass of metal gantries and loading cranes passed by on the left and right. Cables swung from beams and junction boxes, hanging everywhere like vines in a dense jungle. Clouds of greasy steam hissed from massive wall-vents. Karras could see red-robed tech-priests and servitor slaves scurrying or trundling back and forth along metal walkways and hazard-striped landings. Huge servo-arms reached out to grasp the hull of the Adonai . There was a mighty clang. The ship shuddered to a halt. The thrumming of its engines faded and stopped.
It was then that Karras’s eyes were drawn to a figure hovering in the shadow of a dark doorway directly in front of the ship. The silhouette was bulky, its lines
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