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and the Chapter had lost one of its finest as a result.
    Though Elgrist and the black-clad officer spoke at normal volume in the vast and windy hangar, the gene-boosted hearing of the Space Marines in attendance picked up every word.
    ‘Rise,’ said Elgrist. ‘I am Rohiam Elgrist, the Megron [6] and the Third Captain.’
    The officer from the shuttle stood as commanded and, straightening to attention, looked up into all-red eyes. The Third Captain stood almost eighty centimetres taller than he. Swallowing in a dry throat, the officer steeled himself and said, ‘I am honoured, lord. My name is Flight Lieutenant Carvael Qree of the Adonai . Address me as you please. I… I’m afraid my duty is not a happy one.’
    ‘Nevertheless,’ said Elgrist, ‘you are welcome here on this hallowed ground, lieutenant. We are aware of the duty that has brought you to Logopol. Would that it were indeed happier.’
    ‘Aye, lord. If it be any comfort to you, I am told he died well, saving the brothers of his kill-team and ending a threat that would have seen many thousands slaughtered by xenos tooth and claw. That, of course, is all I was told. There are protocols–’
    ‘The Deathwatch operates in shadow. We know this. We accept this. Still, your words offer comfort. His brothers shall be glad to know he died well and for good gain.’
    Qree opened a latched leather tube on his belt and withdrew a furled scroll which, in the palms of both hands, he offered up to the Third captain. ‘Watch Commander Jaeger asked that I deliver this with the body. It is encrypted, of course, but I am told your Chapter already possesses the key. I fear that you will find few answers within, but perhaps the contents will further honour the fallen.’
    Elgrist took the scroll in a large gauntleted hand and nodded.
    ‘It shall be passed to the Megir.’ Seeing the lieutenant’s confusion, Elgrist added, ‘To the Chapter Master.’
    That much was a lie, of course. The Megir could not be troubled with such things. His burden was too great by far. But the Imperium at large must never know what lay below Logopol. It was to Athio Cordatus that the scroll would be given. It was the Mesazar who commanded the Chapter while the First Spectre sat suffering in a chamber deep below the city’s catacombs.
    Flight Lieutenant Qree inclined his head. ‘I see. Well, I believe this concludes the first part of my duty, my lord. Shall I signal for the body to be…’
    He almost said unloaded but the word struck him as disrespectful. Silence hung for a moment while Qree grasped for a more appropriate term. After the span of a few seconds, however, Captain Elgrist interceded.
    ‘If you would, lieutenant. Please.’
    ‘At once, m’lord.’
    Qree reached up and pressed a brass stud in his starched black collar. Into this stud, he muttered, ‘Begin the procession.’ A moment later, six figures in black robes of mourning descended the shuttle ramp. They carried censers that trailed wisps of pungent incense as they swung to and fro with each slow, deliberate step. They sang softly and deeply as they descended, a low, humming lament that reached out to the aural senses of all present and held them fast. The quality of sorrow in that soft, hypnotic song was palpable. Normal men would weep to hear it, and Lieutenant Qree fought hard to keep tears from his eyes, not with complete success. The assembled Space Marines wept not, but their battle-worn faces, all ghostly white with blood-red eyes, betrayed the deep sadness that pulled on their hearts.
    Karras felt it tug at his own hearts as his psychic awareness was pricked by their grief. Stephanus would have made captain one day, but that honour had been taken from him, swapped for another. He had died in battle, which was proper, but he had fallen surrounded not by his Occludian brothers but by strangers from other worlds, other Chapters. Such was the end of a Deathwatch operative. Was it worth it? Was Deathwatch service the