Justin D Hill is the author of the Necromunda novel Terminal Overkill, the Warhammer 40,000 novels Cadia Stands and Cadian Honour, the Space Marine Battles novel Storm of Damocles and the short stories ‘Last Step Backwards’, ‘Lost Hope’ and ‘The Battle of Tyrok Fields’, following the adventures of Lord Castellan Ursarkar E. Creed. He has also written ‘Truth Is My Weapon’, and the Warhammer tales ‘Golgfag’s Revenge’ and ‘The Battle of Whitestone’. His novels have won a number of prizes, as well as being Washington Post and Sunday Times Books of the Year. He lives ten miles uphill from York, where he is indoctrinating his four children in the 40K lore.

An Extract from ‘Dark Imperium: Godblight’

An extract from Dark Imperium: Godblight.

With a blast of equalising pressure, the Overlord’s assault ramps clanged down onto the deck of the Palatine Hangar. The ramps were locked on to combat settings – hard drop, no dampers – not the done thing when attending the last loyal primarch, but Tetrarch Decimus Androdinus Felix was not in a mood for niceties.

Felix strode out of the gunship first, the Chosen of Vespator at his heels. They were his bodyguard, ten Space Marines in varied livery, one chosen from each of the Shield Chapters of Ultramar. They made a colourful crowd, clashing to some sensibilities, only united by the golden device of the tetrarch emblazoned on their left pauldrons. Their boots rang loudly as they spread out, guns ready. Even aboard the primarch’s flagship, they scanned their surroundings for threat. Each one was a lord of battle, and they could not easily put war aside.

A small delegation of unmodified humans awaited Felix. A chamberlain hurried forward from amid the banners and the floating servo-skulls. Small and feeble though the man was, he stepped boldly into the path of the giants of Ultramar, bringing them to a halt.

‘My lord Felix, welcome back to the Macragge’s Honour.’ The chamberlain sketched a quick yet perfect bow. ‘If I might direct you to the quarters the primarch has prepared for you, you may refresh yourself.’ The official’s critical gaze roamed over the damage marking the battleplate of each and every Space Marine. ‘And perhaps make yourselves presentable?’

A fussy statement from a fussy little man. Felix didn’t intend to growl, but the noise of irritation he made came out as one from the voxmitter of his helm.

‘There will be no need. My errand is urgent. I will see the primarch now.’

‘He bids you wait awhile – he is aware of your efforts at Alveiro and is most pleased that you have come to see him, but requests you await his call for a proper audience.’

‘Now,’ said Felix firmly. ‘I am the commander of the Eastern Tetra of Ultramar. The task I am upon cannot wait.’

‘My lord–’ the human began, but Felix cut him off.

‘You said he requests.’

‘Yes, my lord,’ said the chamberlain.