[Space Marine Battles] Architect of Fate par Christian Dunn

Architect of Fate is an anthology of Space Marine short stories by some of Black Library’s finest authors, compiled by New YorkTimes bestselling editor Christian Dunn. It will be available in May next year.
In the meantime, you have the rest of the Space Marine Battles novels to enjoy.

Varney a écrit:C'est la première fois que je vois un livre écrit du point de vue d'un... démon? Si c'est le cas, ça à l'air intéressant, affaire à suivre.

What’s your novella about?

Sarah: Accursed Eternity features two Space Marine Chapters, the Star Dragons and the Blood Swords, as they are called in by the Inquisition to investigate a daemon ship that has been sighted on the edges of the Eye of Terror. The ship was never going to be a nice place, but even the Space Marines aren't quite prepared for what occurs. Not to mention what the inquisitor comes to discover.

To all intents and purposes, it's a bit of a Warhammer 40,000 horror story. And it doesn't end prettily.

Darius: ‘Sanctus’ describes the final hours of a world named Ilissus, a charred ruin located right on the borders of the Eye of Terror. Various mysterious parties have an interest in this doomed world, but the novella focuses on a squad of Relictors Space Marines. They’re aware that the planet is beyond saving, but the future of their whole Chapter is hanging in the balance and this desperate mission could be their last chance to avoid being labelled as traitors. As the clock ticks towards Exterminatus, the Relictors land on Ilissus, but as the bombs start to fall they discover that they have even more enemies than they realised.

Endeavour of Will a écrit:Une nouvelle de l'Architecte du Destin.
La légion des Iron Warriors des Space Marines du Chaos lance une attaque dévastatrice sur les ennemis détestés, les Imperial Fists, paralysant un de leur principal fort spatial.
Imperturbable, le héroïque Capitaine Darnath Lysander retire ses guerriers vers vers une seconde forteresse, le Endeavour of Will afin d'essuyer le reste de l'assaut.
Mais les méthodes des Iron Warriors sont bien connues, des décisions critiques et désespérées doivent être prisent, de peur que leurs insidieuses techno-contagion ne se répandent à travers la flotte des Imperial Fists et bien au delà.

Accursed Eternity a écrit:Une nouvelle de l'Architecte du Destin.
Les Space Marines des chapitres Blood Swords et Star Dragons sont enrôlés par l'Inquisiteur Remigius de l'Ordo Malleus pour prendre d'assaut l'infâme vaisseau démoniaque connue sous le nom de du Accursed Eternity.
Mais les apparences sont trompeuses et ce qui aurait dû être une mission relativement simple tourne rapidement en un cauchemars infernal engendré par le Warp.
Le décor est planté pour une intrigue chaotique d'envergure galactique et d'une guerre qui durera dix mille ans...

Le Duc du Changement a écrit:Une nouvelle de l'Architecte du Destin.
Les Space Marines du chapitre des White Consuls répondent à un appel de détresse pour s’apercevoir que la source du signal est beaucoup plus terrifiante que le message lui-même.
Telle une secousse psychique balayant leur centre astropathique, l'ignoble Kairos Duc du Changement, démon majeur de Tzeentch et maître de la manipulation, révèle sa dernière carte d'un jeu qui dure depuis le commencement des temps.
Le destin vous attend.

Sanctus a écrit:Une nouvelle de l'Architecte du Destin.
Les Relictors sont envoyés par l'Inquisition pour piller les dépôts et les bibliothèques d'un Monde à l'aube de l'annihilation. Avec l'ultimatum d'un Exterminatus imminent sur leurs épaules, ils réalisent que même les Space Marines du Chaos de la redoutée Black Legion ne sont pas la pire menace qu'ils devront faire face avant de pouvoir s'échapper et que leur véritable ennemi se trouvent ailleurs.

Kairos Fateweaver is no ordinary supervillain. Quite apart from the fact that he looks like a sinister two-headed vulture in a toga, he also has mastery over the forces of time and destiny.
Architect of Fate contains four linked novellas that feature this Machiavellian greater daemon, and over the next couple of days, we’ll bring you an extract from each one.

==> Accursed Eternity – Sarah Cawkwell

‘Sergeant?’ Tylissus was alert instantly, his blade unsheathed and at the ready. ‘What is it?’
‘There!’ Korydon pointed at the rivulet of ichor that had been oozing towards them. Only when he looked back, there was nothing there.

Tylissus looked. He shook his head and Korydon momentarily tasted shame.
‘My apologies, brothers. I thought I saw…’ He shook his head and gave a gruff, humourless laugh. ‘Nothing. My mistake. Something in this place is attempting to get to me. We press on.’

That was when the whispering started; and it was not just confined to the interior of Korydon’s skull. Wordless noises that ranged between hissing and cackling laughter reverberated throughout the small chamber. Every weapon came to the fore and every Star Dragons warrior tensed ready for an ambush that didn’t come.

The noise built to a crescendo, an almost deafening roar of sound that filled the densely packed room in which the Adeptus Astartes stood. Then the first of the figures rose from the dust on the ground. Coalescing with alarming speed, the ash flowed into a solid figure that was human­oid in shape but featureless. It wavered for a few seconds, tipping this way and that, balancing itself. Eventually it ceased its rocking motion and stopped dead.

A hideous gash split its head almost in two in a hor­rendous parody of a mouth. It held out a hand towards the Space Marines, a finger creating itself particle by pain-staking particle. The digit extended and pointed towards Korydon.
You die now.

==> Sanctus – Darius Hinks

‘Down,’ snaps Sergeant Halser over the vox, and the Rel­ictors vanish from sight.

Pylcrafte moans pitifully as he cowers between the sergeant and Brother-Librarian Comus. ‘We must be stead­fast,’ he whimpers, trembling violently. ‘The dominion of the idolaters is–’

Comus clamps a hand over his mouth and shoves him unceremoniously to the ground.

Their cover is a narrow gulley, no more than four metres wide.

‘The next ridge,’ mutters Comus.

Halser nods and looks back through the swirling dust clouds. Brother Thymus is lying on his side, convulsing. Blood and hydraulic fluid is spraying from his punctured chest armour and he seems unable to rise. He has fallen above the gulley and is completely exposed, but it is use­less to think of saving him. The sound of his laboured breathing is terrible to hear. He will not survive.

The sergeant is so furious that for a few seconds he can­not speak. How could he be so foolish as to lead his men into an ambush? Brother Thymus has served at his side in countless engagements. Inside Halser’s helmet, his cheeks flush purple with rage and he spits a prayer. ‘Everything that happens is the Emperor’s will.’ The words bring him no solace. He shakes his head and raises his hand, prepar­ing to give an order.

Before he can speak, two objects clatter across the rocks.

The Space Marines react instantly, recognising the frag grenades before they even settle, but it is no use: the gre­nades are primed to detonate on impact.

The gulley fills with sound and light.

As promised on yesterday’s blog, here are two more extracts from the new Space Marine Battles anthology Architect of Fate.

==> Endeavour of Will – Ben Counter

The Ferrous Malice reeled the Siege of Malebruk into a close embrace. Beaks armoured with bone crunched into the strike cruiser’s hull, ripping through decks and shear­ing off one of the ship’s engine sections. Plasma coolant billowed silver-black into the vacuum, and the reactors discharged their power load in a storm of blue lightning. The shockwaves tore apart more escape craft, or shredded their guidance systems to send them tumbling without power in all directions.

The Chaos ship dismembered the strike cruiser, forc­ing massive chunks of spaceship into its many jaws. The machine-spirit of the Siege of Malebruk survived until the last, moving from one stack of datamedium to the next as parts of the ship were crushed or torn away. The strike cruiser was a gutted shell by the time it ran out of places to hide, and its existence winked out in the closing maw of the Chaos ship.

The Ferrous Malice let the remains of the Siege of Malebruk drift away. One side of the strike cruiser was gone com­pletely, the rest hollowed out like a carcass abandoned by scavengers. The Chaos ship had a bloated appearance, an insect gorged on blood, squatting in a haze of debris. Only a few silvery specks remained of the Siege’s crew. The Fer­rous Malice, sated for now, ignored the fleeing escape craft, and the escapees clung to life for a few hours more as their craft headed for the relative safety of the Endeavour of Will. Among them were the five members of the Imperial Fists First Company, seething with eagerness to get to grips with the enemy who had just handed them such a total defeat.


==> Fateweaver – John French

Cyrus released the fury in his mind, the burning power col­lapsing into a dull ember ache in his skull.

Sudden silence and stillness surrounded him. He was breathing hard, his skin clammy and cold in his armour. Around him the floor and walls of the passage glowed. The barricade was a twisted mound of blackened metal, like a crumpled cloth. He turned, meeting the staring eyes of the Helicon Guard who looked up from where they cowered by the lift entrance. Sheathing his sword he reached up and released his helmet. The air smelt of cooked meat and sulphur.

Four members of Galba’s squad stood amongst the wreck of the barricade. The teeth of their chainblades were thick with oozing flesh. Galba lay between them. Congealing blood and yellow mucus caked his splintered armour. His helmet was a ruin of squashed bone and torn ceramite.

Galba’s four squad brothers lifted their sergeant onto their shoulders. They murmured the death lament of Sabatine as they moved. They would carry him back to the Aethon where he would wait in cold stasis until he returned to his birth planet for the last time. Hearing the old words from a planet that was home but which had not borne him, Cyrus found that there was nothing he could say.

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