Courage and Honour

[Dr Darog]

Дата выхода книги 16/05/09

Вся инфа, что я нашел:

The long-awaited return of the Ultramarines series, starring Uriel Ventris, by Horus Heresy author Graham McNeill. Killing Ground picks up where Dead Sky, Black Sun leaves off as Uriel finds himself on a chaos world and choices to make, none of which are very appealing or may bring him home.

The noble Ultramarines epitomise the Space Marines, the genetically enhanced warriors who protect the Imperium from its foes. Newly returned from the Eye of Terror, Captain Uriel Ventris must redeem himself in the eyes of his battle–brothers, who fear he may have been tainted by Chaos. When the planet Pavonis is invaded by tau, what better opportunity could Uriel have to join his Chapter in combat and prove that his honour is beyond reproach?

Graham McNeill's Courage & Honour Reading & Q&A

Graham McNeill gave a reading of his newly released Ultramarines book. This is the second in a trilogy, the first being the newly released paperback (free on the day) Killing Ground.

Graham said that this trilogy was intended to progressive, concentrating on the 2 main characters in the first book, then the company in the second and in the final book the focus being chapter/legion wide with the action being on a galactic scale on multiple fronts.

Интервью с Г. Макнилом

KS: Что относительно Вашей серии про Ультрамаринов, Uriel Ventris вернулся в The Killing Ground, что находится в моей груде книг, ждущих прочтения (так что не надо спойлерить), но заглядывая в будущее, вы планируете послать его еще куда-нибудь?

GM: После Dead Sky, Black Sun у меня остались герои, которое нуждалось в некотором реальном планировании, чтобы они получились без обмана читателей. The Killing Ground - одиссея героев домой, и это возвращение должно было бы произойти, по моему мнению, таким образом, чтобы соответствовать обстоятельствам, в которые они попали, было бы захватывающим, интересным и, что важнее всего, красивым. Я думаю я поступил правильно. Подумайте о сцене в рассказе Стивена Кинга «Страдания» , когда Пол Шелдон пишет первые сцены страдальческих возвращений для Энни, и она возмущена, поскольку считает это несправедливым, поскольку это «обман» по сравнению с тем, что было до этого. Вот, я и не хотел этого, поэтому приложил все усилия, что вернуть моих мальчиков домой так, чтобы не опасть под горячую руку рассерженных поклонников.

Следующая книга, Храбрость и честь (Courage and Honour), на половину готова и является возвратам к канонам историй о СМ, дав возможность См делать то, что они делаю лучше всего (умирать, превозмогать, спасать галактику, наверное))))).

Это - шаг обратно к Ультрамаринам, так как в последних двух книга были только Uriel и Pasanius как главные герои. В этой книги целая рота будет воевать, а в следующей - будет еще больше!

KS: У Вас есть любые другие вещи, над которыми Вы работаете? Что еще там для нас есть, что мы должны с нетерпением ждать?

GM: После «Храбрости и чести», я буду работать дальше над второй частью из трилогии о Сигмаре, которую назову «Империей». Я не могу не дождаться, когда начну работать над этой книгой, поскольку в этот период было много больших сражений, несколько действительно хороших моментов для героев и некоторые истории о Сигмаре, с которыми мы не настолько знакомы. После этого это будет незаконченная часть «Защитников Ультуана». Мой первый роман Starcraft, "I, Mengsk" ждите в январе (какая гадость). Что-то еще … о, да, «Огонь и Честь» вторая часть совсем скоро, и мы ищем художника для запланированного комикса об ультрамаринах в четырех частях. То есть, будет много, чего с нетерпением ждать!

320 pages

P.S. Свежая инфа: в книге Ура Вентрис будет очень жестко нагибать ТАУ....

Изменено 11 мая, 2009 пользователем Darog

[MoonPhoenix]

4-я вроде Killing Ground?

[NigatiF]

P.S. Свежая инфа: в книге Ура Вентрис будет очень жестко нагибать ТАУ....

даа... так жестоко... ТАКИМ БОЛЬШИМ болтером... наверное будет 16+ ценз

[Dr Darog]

Юре, короче, выдадут 100% смертельное задание, чтобы проверить, что его хаос не закоруптил (логика офигенная, если не закоруптил, значит Император поможет: умрет, но задание выполнит), Юра умирать не собирается и местечко нужно вернуть себе, а тут всякие синие ксеносы бегают, как в тире... в общем, ждите океаны превозмогания и моря крови тау... Павонис, как известно отбил атаку Тау, так что хепиэнд обеспечен... а вот сколько фрагов настреляет Юра вместе с друзьями - миллионы или триллионы, собьет ли из болтера манту, уничтожит ли плевком кризис - Вы узнаете, прочтя эту замечательную книгу.

Макнил обещал много крови и боевок.

P.S. В этот раз с Юрой будет вся его рота, дредноуты и тяжелая поддержка... я не завидую тау.

На правах рекламы:

ЗАЩИТНИКИ УЛЬТРАМАРА - комикс о том, что было пока Юра шлялся по злачным местам в Оке и его роте. Читать всем! Плюсовать Дядюшку и Ко.

[Alfаrius]

Не, ты что. Вентресса не убили сразу только потому, что за него поручились СР. А потом он прошёл проверку у Тигурия и усё.

[Dr Darog]

Не, ты что. Вентресса не убили сразу только потому, что за него поручились СР. А потом он прошёл проверку у Тигурия и усё.

Ну, я ничего не придумываю:

Офф анотация: Newly returned from the Eye of Terror, Captain Uriel Ventris must redeem himself in the eyes of his battle–brothers, who fear he may have been tainted by Chaos.

И слухи от моих друзей.

Изменено 11 мая, 2009 пользователем Darog

[Alfаrius]

Ну, я ничего не придумываю:

Офф анотация: Newly returned from the Eye of Terror, Captain Uriel Ventris must redeem himself in the eyes of his battle–brothers, who fear he may have been tainted by Chaos.

И слухи от моих друзей.

Похоже я что-то путаю, и мне лень перечитывать страницы книги с сайта БЛ. Спорить не буду.

[Dr Darog]

Спорить не буду.

Ммм, посмотри, а то у меня БЛ не открывается, я мог и попутать на этот счет, но вроде это офф аннотация.

Да, это офф аннотация.

Изменено 11 мая, 2009 пользователем Darog

[Dr Darog]

» Отрывок из книги «

A traitor had once made his home among the

tumbled slopes of the Owsen Hills. The late Kasimir de

Valtos had dwelt in a lofty, marble-fronted villa, finely

constructed and lavishly appointed with every amenity

his wealth and position could provide. His extensive

estate ran with game, servants attended to his every need,

and the thousands of workers that slaved in his many

weapon mills, engine assembly yards and artillery

manufactorum could only dream of their master’s

luxurious lifestyle.

Wealth, position and power had been his, but

now the traitor was dead and his estate was overgrowing,

his palatial demesne little more than stumps of

stonework scattered throughout waving fields of

untended grass. Vengeful workers had looted his villa of

anything worth stealing in the wake of the civil war that

his schemes had unleashed. They had cast its walls to

ruin and set fires where once he had plotted to become

an immortal god.

Such were the dreams of men, grandiose and

fleeting.

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An ornamental lake rippled in the sunlight before

the ruined villa, fed by an underground aqueduct linked

to the wide river that flowed south from Tembra Ridge

in the north. The river cut a path through the de Valtos

estate, splitting into dozens of narrow watercourses as it

threaded its way through the undulant terrain.

Eventually, these smaller rivers came together and

meandered southwards to join the Brandon River on its

journey to the ocean in the west.

Though the de Valtos lands were abandoned, the

landscape silent and the forests growing wild, they were

far from empty. Scattered throughout the Owsen Hills,

stealthy observers patiently kept watch on the many

sharp-sided gullies and shallow valleys.

The traitor was dead, but his lands were still

important.

A tremor in the grass was the first sign of

movement, a barely discernible bow wave as a stealthy

humanoid figure in olive-coloured armour ghosted

slowly from the trees at the base of a low hill. It moved

gracefully, crouched over, its every step carefully placed

as its helmeted head swung back and forth, scanning the

terrain with the patient eye of a hunter.

Or a scout, thought Uriel Ventris from his

position of concealment in a tumbled fan of rocks on the

slopes of the hill above the ruined villa.

Soon, other scouts followed the first from the

trees, moving in pairs as they eased towards the fallen

stones of the de Valtos villa. There were eight in total,

their movements slick and professional.

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Though the scouts advanced with a smooth,

precise gait, there was something fundamentally wrong

with their movements, something inhuman. Their

posture was subtly different, as if their bone structure

wasn’t quite right or their feet were shaped differently to

those of humans.

The Ultramarines had learned much of the ways

of the tau and their rapidly expanding empire on the

killing fields of Malbede, Praetonis V and Augura.

That experience was being put to good use here

on Pavonis.

The lead scout reached the edge of the ruins, and

placed a gloved hand to the side of its helmet, a tapered

dome with a vox aerial on one side and a gem-like

optical device on the other.

Watching the scouts spread out, Uriel saw that

they had read the ground well.

Just as he had done earlier that day.

A flashing icon lit up on the inner surface of

Uriel’s helmet visor, an insistent urging from his senior

sergeant to release the killing precision of his warriors.

He ignored it for the time being. Instincts honed on a

hundred battlefields were telling Uriel that the prey was

not yet fully in the killing box, and the risk of their target

detecting vox-traffic was too great.

No sooner had the scout finished his silent

communication than a prowling vehicle with curved

flanks emerged from the trees. It had the bulk of a tank,

but hovered just above the ground, bending the stalks of

grass as it drew close to the scouts. A rotary-barrelled

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cannon spun lazily below its tapered prow, and flaring

dorsal engines kept it aloft with a barely audible hum.

The tank was unmistakably alien, its curved lines

and silent menace putting Uriel in mind of a shark

prowling the seabed.

From the intelligence files Uriel had read en

route to Pavonis from Macragge, he recognised it as a

Devilfish, a troop carrier analogous to the Rhino. It was

fast, agile and armoured to the front, but vulnerable to

attacks from the rear. Codex ambush tactics would serve

them well here.

The alien tank came to a halt, and a pair of flat

discs with under-slung weapon mounts detached from

the vehicle’s frontal fins. They hovered just above the

tank, twitching sensor spines rotating on their upper

surfaces.

Sniffer dogs.

Uriel glanced anxiously towards the grassy

mounds spread throughout the ruins of the de Valtos

villa.

Apparently satisfied that there was nothing in the

immediate vicinity, the hovering discs returned to their

mounts on the Devilfish, and the lead scout unsnapped a

device from the rigid backpack he wore. Uriel watched

as a pair of thin legs extended from the device and the

scout planted it in the ground in front of him.

Lights flickered on the domed surface of the

device, and Uriel’s auto-senses detected a low-level

pressure pulse sweep over the landscape.

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Some kind of three-dimensional cartographic

device? Imperial forces that had fought the tau before

had christened these warriors Pathfinders, and the name

was an apt one. These troops were thrown out ahead of

an army to reconnoitre the ground before it and plot the

best routes of advance.

The Pathfinders were working quickly, and every

second Uriel delayed gave them more time to detect his

warriors. The Ultramarines were in place, and, as Uriel

watched the enemy scouts at work, he knew it was time

to unleash them.

‘Primary units, engage,’ he whispered into his

throat mic, knowing it was the last order he would need

to issue in this engagement.

The Pathfinder’s head snapped up as soon as the

words left Uriel’s mouth, but it was already too late for

the tau.

Two Space Marines from Uriel’s Devastator

section rose from the rocks to the east of the ruined villa,

carrying bulky missile launchers on their shoulders. The

tau scattered, and the Devilfish’s engines rose in pitch as

the driver angled his frontal section towards the threat.

Uriel smiled grimly as the Devastators fired their

weapons, the missiles swooshing through the air on

arcing contrails of smoke.

The first detonated above a pair of Pathfinders as

they sought to reach the cover of the trees, shredding

their bodies into torn masses of butchered meat and

shattered armour plates. The second slammed into the

frontal armour of the Devilfish with a thunderous bang

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followed by a smeared explosion of black smoke and

shrapnel.

The Devilfish rocked under the impact of the

missile, but its armour remained intact. Its rotary cannon

spooled up, and a burst of heavy-calibre shells blitzed

from the weapon, tracing a blazing arc between the tank

and its attackers. The ground above the villa exploded as

the hillside disintegrated under the blizzard of impacts,

but Uriel’s warriors had already ducked back into cover.

The roaring of the cannon was tremendous, but

Uriel still heard the metallic cough of two more missiles

being launched. He glanced over to the west, where the

other half of the Devastator section opened fire. The tank

tried to reverse its turn, but the missiles were faster.

One punched through the rear assault ramp as the

other slammed into the left engine nacelle. The back of

the Devilfish exploded in a spray of red-hot fragments,

scything down another Pathfinder. A secondary blast

completed its destruction, and the blazing vehicle

crashed to the ground.

Uriel rose from the rocks, and locked his bolter in

the crook of his arm. Behind him, a ten-strong squad of

blue-armoured Space Marines rose with him, matching

his pace as he set off towards the killing ground.

The surviving aliens made for the cover of the

villa, but Uriel knew they wouldn’t reach it.

As the Pathfinders reached the ruined dwelling,

the grassy mounds within its fallen walls shifted, and a

combat squad of Ultramarines scouts cast off their camocloaks.

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The scouts opened fire, bolter rounds punching

through the lightly armoured Pathfinders, and hurling

them from their feet. Two were killed instantly, and a

third screamed in agony as the explosion of a massreactive

shell ripped his arm from his shoulder.

The two remaining Pathfinders returned fire, their

rifles spitting bright bolts among the scouts in dazzling

bursts of light and sound. The aliens fired a last defiant

burst before fleeing for the trees, all pretence of stealth

forgotten in their desire to escape the trap that had been

set for them.

Uriel dropped to one knee and swung his

gleaming, eagle-plated bolter to his shoulder. The

weapon’s targeting mechanism was synced to his helmet,

and he tracked the zigzagging pattern of an enemy

warrior for a moment before pulling the trigger.

His bolter slammed back with a fearsome recoil,

and the Pathfinder dropped, the bottom half of his right

leg pulped by the shell’s detonation. Seeing that escape

wasn’t an option, the last tau warrior halted and threw

down his weapon. He turned, and began walking back

towards the blazing wreck of the Devilfish with his

hands in the air.

‘You’ve gotten rusty with your targeting rituals,’

said a voice at Uriel’s side. ‘You were aiming for the

middle of his back, weren’t you?’

Uriel turned, and slung his bolter. Then he

reached up to disengage the vacuum seals at his gorget.

Pressurised air hissed, and he lifted his golden-winged

helm clear. He turned towards the speaker, a Space

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Marine in the livery of a veteran sergeant of the

Ultramarines, his red helmet encircled by a white laurel

wreath.

‘I was,’ admitted Uriel, ‘and you’re right about

the targeting rituals, I fell out of the habit while I was

away.’

‘Best get back into the habit then, quickly.’

‘I will,’ said Uriel, surprised at the sergeant’s

caustic tone.

‘We should get down there. The scouts are

securing the prisoner,’ said the sergeant before making

his way downhill.

Uriel nodded and followed Learchus.

It felt good to lead warriors in combat, even if his

involvement had been minimal once the planning had

been done. Smoke from the smouldering Devilfish

caught in the back of Uriel’s throat, the trace chemicals

triggering a number of sensory impulses within him. He

tasted the abrasive compounds used to etch the insignia

on the vehicle’s hull, the alien lubricants used on the

engine mounts, and the coarse, roasted scent of the

seared crew.

Uriel ran a hand over his scalp, the dark hair cut

short. A band of silver had developed at his temples,

though his grey, storm cloud eyes were as sharp as ever.

Cut from a classical mould, Uriel’s features were angular

and sharp, without the distinctive flattening common to

some members of the Adeptus Astartes.

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His physique was lean for a Space Marine,

although, cloaked in his new armour, he was as bulky

and fearsome as the rest of his warriors. The sword of

Idaeus was belted at Uriel’s waist, and a green cloak

hung from his shoulders, secured with a pin in the shape

of a white rose that recalled his last journey to Pavonis.

Uriel surveyed the utter destruction of the enemy

as Learchus formed the warriors of the 4th Company into

a perimeter around the site of the ambush.

Two Space Marines guarded the tau prisoner, the

only survivor of the ambush, who knelt facing an upright

slab with his hands on his head. A pair of Rhino APCs

idled on what had once been a wide gravelled driveway.

Their side doors were open, and a Space Marine gunner

manned the storm bolter mounted on the vehicle’s

forward cupola. The kill-team of scouts gathered their

photo-absorptive camo-cloaks from the ruins, cloaks that

ensured the first inkling most targets had of the scouts’

presence was the sound of the shot that blew their head

off.

Watching Learchus issue his orders, Uriel was

struck by how his friend had changed since he and

Pasanius had marched from the Fortress of Hera and into

exile.

Learchus had promised to look after Uriel’s

warriors, and he had done a fine job, rebuilding the

company after the losses taken on Tarsis Ultra, and

leading its warriors in battle against a host of orks on

Espandor. The sergeant’s orders were obeyed with

alacrity and respect, and, though Uriel was sure it was

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just his imagination, it was as though Learchus carried

himself a little taller than before.

Command had been good for him, it seemed.

Uriel beckoned to Learchus, walking towards the

wreckage of the Devilfish.

‘Sergeant,’ said Uriel as Learchus approached

and snapped to attention. Learchus hammered his fist

against his breastplate, and then reached up to remove

his helmet.

Learchus was everything a Space Marine should

be: tall and proud, with a regal countenance that was the

image of the heroes carved in luminous marble upon the

steps of the Temple of Correction on Macragge. His

blond hair was cropped tightly to his skull, his features

wide and clearly of the most illustrious lineage.

Each of the worlds of Ultramar had differing

quirks of genetics that no amount of genhancement could

eradicate, making it an easy matter to identify from

where a warrior hailed. Learchus was unmistakably a

native of Macragge, fortress-world of the Ultramarines,

and a planet from which the greatest of heroes had

marched onto the pages of legend.

‘Captain,’ said Learchus.

‘Is everything all right?’

‘Everything is in hand,’ said Learchus. ‘Sentries

are in place, enemy weapons are gathered, and I have

deployed long-range pickets to watch for follow on

forces.’

‘Very good,’ said Uriel, keeping his tone light,

‘but that’s not what I was asking.’

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‘Then what were you asking?’

‘Are you planning on leaving me anything to

do?’

‘Everything that needs attending to is being

done,’ replied Learchus. ‘What orders are left to give?’

‘I am the captain of this company, Learchus,’

said Uriel, hating that he sounded so petulant. ‘The

orders are mine to give.’

Learchus was too controlled to show much in the

way of emotion, but Uriel saw a shadow cross his face,

and guessed the reason for his stiff formality. He decided

not to press the point. The company’s leaders had to be

seen to display unity of purpose, especially now, so soon

after Uriel’s return.

‘Of course, sir. Sorry, sir,’ replied Learchus.

‘We’ll talk about this later,’ said Uriel, turning

and marching towards the captured Pathfinder. ‘Now,

let’s see what our prisoner has to say for himself.’

The alien heard their approaching steps, and

turned his helmeted head to face them. One of the Space

Marine guards delivered a sharp blow to the alien’s neck

with the butt of his bolter, and it sagged against the stub

of broken wall with a shrill yelp of pain.

The captive gripped the stonework, and Uriel saw

that he had only four fingers on each hand.

‘Get him up,’ said Uriel.

Learchus reached down and hauled the prisoner

to his feet, and Uriel was impressed by its defiant body

language. This creature was from an alien species, a race

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utterly apart from humanity, yet the hostility in its

posture was unmistakeable.

‘Take it off,’ said Uriel, miming the act of lifting

off a helmet.

The alien didn’t move, and Uriel drew his bolt

pistol, tapping the barrel against the side of the alien’s

helmet.

‘Off,’ he said.

The tau reached up, unsnapped a trio of clips and

a cable-feed where it attached to his armour, and lifted

clear the helmet.

Learchus snatched it from the alien, and Uriel

found himself looking down at the face of the prisoner.

The creature’s skin was the colour of weathered

lead, grey and textured like old linen, with a sheen to it

that might have been perspiration. It had a curious odour,

a pungent mix of smells that Uriel found impossible to

place: part animal, part burned plastic and hot spices, but

wholly alien.

A glossy topknot of white hair trailed from the

top of its scalp to the base of its neck, held in place by

gold bands studded with gems.

The alien looked up at Uriel with eyes of dull red,

set deep in a flat face without any visible indication of a

nose. A curious vertical indentation, like an old surgical

wound or birth scar, sat in the centre of its forehead, and

the cast of its features, though alien and strange,

suggested that their captive was female.

The alien’s amber pupils burned with hostility.

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‘This is a world of the Imperium,’ said Uriel.

‘Why are you here?’

The alien spat a brief torrent of language, a

lyrical stream of unfamiliar tones and exotic multi-part

words. Uriel’s enhanced cognitive faculties were able to

sort the streams into word groupings, but he could make

no sense of them. He hadn’t expected to understand the

alien’s language, but had held out a vague hope that it

might have had a grasp of Imperial Gothic.

‘Do. You. Understand. Me?’ he said, slowly and

carefully enunciating each word.

Once again, the captive spoke in her singsong

language, and Uriel knew that she had simply repeated

the words she had already spoken.

‘Do you know what it’s saying?’ asked Learchus.

‘No,’ said Uriel, ‘but I don’t need a translator to

understand the sense of it.’

‘So what’s it saying?’

‘It sounds like name, rank and number to me. I

think she’s called La’tyen.’

‘She?’

‘Yes,’ said Uriel. ‘At least, I think it’s female.’

‘So, what do you want done with her?’

‘Cuff her and stick her in one of the Rhinos.

We’ll take her back to Brandon Gate and put her in the

Glasshouse,’ said Uriel. ‘I’ll have a Xenolexicon servitor

brought down from the Vae Victus to enable an

interrogation. We need to find out how many more of her

kind are on Pavonis.’

‘You think there are more?’

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‘Probably,’ said Uriel, moving away from the

prisoner. ‘Brandon Gate is only sixty kilometres to the

east over flat and open terrain. These hills are a logical

spot for an enemy force to scout with a view to

attacking. Pathfinders are the eyes and ears of a tau battle

force, and I’d be surprised if her unit was operating

alone.’

‘If there are other units, we’ll find them,’ said

Learchus. ‘The after-action telemetry from the Zeist

Campaign helped us find this one, and if this battle is

anything to go by, we shouldn’t have much trouble

finishing them off.’

‘This wasn’t a battle,’ said Uriel.

‘No?’ asked Learchus, marching in step with

Uriel. ‘What was it then?’

‘For all my adrenal system reacted once we

engaged, it might as well have been a training exercise,’

said Uriel. ‘Everything about this fight was textbook,

from the diversionary shot to the concealed kill-team and

the fire support group.’

‘And that is a bad thing?’ asked Learchus. ‘We

executed a perfect Codex-pattern ambush; the tau were

caught completely off guard. We fooled their tank crew

into making a rudimentary manoeuvring error, and then

we gunned down the survivors. Would that all

engagements were fought with such precision.’

‘I agree, but the Pathfinders were incredibly lax

in their advance. From what I’ve heard of the battles the

Chapter has fought against the tau over the last few

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years, it’s a trait I’m surprised to find in warriors with

such a reputation for being careful.’

‘Perhaps they were new troops, yet to be tested in

combat,’ suggested Learchus.

‘That’s certainly possible,’ conceded Uriel.

‘Although it still feels strange that we destroyed them so

easily.’

‘We fight with the Codex Astartes as our guide

precisely because the order it brings to our battles makes

them seem easy to those who are not schooled in its

ways.’

‘I know that, Learchus. You don’t need to remind

me.’

‘Don’t I?’ asked Learchus. ‘You were exiled

once already because you failed to heed its teachings.’

‘Aye, and I saw the error of my ways on

Medrengard,’ said Uriel, fighting down his irritation at

Learchus’s words, even though he knew they were

justified.

‘I hope that is true.’

‘I swear to you it is, my friend,’ said Uriel. ‘I

suppose it’s been so long since I fought with such

sublime warriors under my command, I’d almost

forgotten what it is to have the advantage in a tactical

situation. For so long it was just Pasanius and myself

against impossible odds.’

‘Clearly not that impossible,’ noted Learchus.

‘After all, you both made it back.’

The Black Library Page 18

The Fortress of Hera. Uriel had not dared believe

he would once again stand before its glittering, marble

immensity for fear that the more he wanted it the more if

would fade away.

Soaring walls of purest white towered above

them, crowned by majestic towers capped with golden

weapon-domes and lined with adamantine siegehoardings

that were as beautiful as they were deadly.

Like a living structure of indescribably beautiful coral,

the fortress appeared to grow out of the very rock of the

mountains, a mighty edifice conceived by the genius of

the Ultramarines primarch in a long-forgotten age.

It stood on the mightiest chain of mountains, a

testament to one man’s genius and legendary vision. As

wondrous and colossal a structure as it was, the Fortress

of Hera was no monument to arrogance. Rather, it was a

masterpiece of design and construction that lifted the

soul and reminded all who looked upon it that they could

aspire to great things. It was a creation of visual poetry

and magnificence that spoke to the heart and not the ego.

Uriel and Pasanius stood alone in the wide,

statue-lined plaza at the end of the Via Fortissimus, the

grand processional road that wound from the lower

reaches of the mountains all the way to the Porta

Guilliman. The great gate of the fortress was a towering

golden slab engraved with the ten thousand deeds of

Roboute Guilliman, and Uriel vividly remembered the

awful sound of it closing behind him.

The dolorous crash of adamantium had sounded

like the final sound at the end of all things, and now, as

The Black Library Page 19

the gate slowly began to open, the illumination that

shone from within was like the first light at the dawn of

creation.

Behind them, the hull of the Thunderhawk that

had brought them from the Grey Knight vessel in orbit

creaked and popped as it cooled after its rapid descent

through the atmosphere. Lifter-servitors were already

unloading the power armour of the Sons of Guilliman

they had brought back from Salinas, and, within

moments, the gunship would depart for the cold dark of

space once more.

‘We’re home,’ said Pasanius, but Uriel was too

choked with emotion to reply.

His closest friend and battle-brother was crying,

tears of joy falling unashamedly from his eyes as he

swept his gaze over the high walls and glittering

ramparts of the fortress.

Uriel reached up and touched his face, not at all

surprised to find that he too was weeping with the sheer,

boundless sense of homecoming that threatened to

unman him with its intensity.

‘Home,’ he said, as though afraid to give voice to

the idea.

‘Did you ever think we’d see it again?’ asked

Pasanius, his voice wavering and brittle.

‘I always hoped we would,’ said Uriel, ‘but I

tried not to think about it too much. I knew that if I dwelt

on what we’d lost I wouldn’t have the strength to go on.’

The Black Library Page 20

‘I thought about home all the time,’ confessed

Pasanius. ‘I don’t think I’d have made it back without

the hope we’d see it again.’

Uriel turned to Pasanius and placed his hand on

his friend’s shoulder guard. Pasanius was a giant of a

Space Marine, by far the biggest Uriel had ever known,

and, fully armoured, he towered over Uriel. Pasanius’s

right arm ended abruptly at the elbow, the limb shorn

from him beneath the surface of another world by a

creature from the dawn of time.

His armour had been repaired and renewed by the

artificers of the Grey Knights, and, with its restoration, a

piece of Pasanius’s soul that had been rent asunder by

his exile was made whole once more.

‘We each hold on to what keeps us going, my

friend,’ said Uriel. ‘For you it was the idea of home, for

me it was the quest itself. Without that balance between

us, I don’t think either of us would be standing here

now.’

Pasanius nodded, and swept Uriel into a crushing,

one-armed bear hug. The big warrior’s emotions were

raw and wounded, but they were healing. They had

shared adventures and horrors on their journey, and, to

come through it alive, let alone whole in spirit, was a

miracle of which both were suddenly and acutely aware.

Uriel felt Pasanius’s massive strength and

laughed.

‘You’re crushing the life out of me, you fool!’ he

gasped.

The Black Library Page 21

Uriel’s armour had been destroyed on their quest

for redemption, and he wore a simple chiton of pale blue

with the sword his former captain had entrusted to him

belted at his waist. Pasanius joined Uriel’s laughter, the

last of the darkness that had cloaked his soul banished by

the bright sun of Macragge and the gift of friendship

freely given.

Pasanius released Uriel as the Porta Guilliman

opened further and the light from within the fortress

grew in intensity.

Both warriors stood proudly to attention, their

backs ramrod straight and heads held high.

They had endured their quest into the darkness at

the heart of the galaxy and within the souls of men, each

trial bringing them closer to this final redemption. The

end of that quest was at hand, and Uriel felt his heart

pound within his ribless torso as it would at the moment

of battle.

Three warriors stepped from the dazzling

brightness of the fortress, three giants who lived in the

legends of the Ultramarines, and whose names stood for

courage and honour the length and breadth of the

Imperium.

Leading the trio, resplendent in the vast and

terrible Armour of Antilochus, and bearing the Gauntlets

of Ultramar, was Marneus Calgar, Chapter Master of the

Ultramarines. A warrior without peer and strategist

beyond compare, Calgar was the epitome of what it

meant to be a commander of the Adeptus Astartes.

The Black Library Page 22

At Calgar’s side marched a towering warrior clad

in lustrous blue armour, his head haloed with a

crystalline hood. This was Varro Tigurius, Chief

Librarian of the Ultramarines, and Uriel felt the power of

the mighty warrior’s gaze upon them, a bright light that

would seek out any darkness and expunge it without

mercy.

To Calgar’s right was the most venerable

member of the Ultramarines still on active duty,

Chaplain Ortan Cassius, the Master of Sanctity and

keeper of the Chapter’s soul. Unlike his battle-brothers,

Cassius wore armour of deepest black, and where his

comrades were warriors of fair countenance, the

Chaplain’s face was a nightmarish patchwork of scarred

flesh and bionics.

As these incredible, legendary warriors marched

towards them, Uriel and Pasanius dropped to their knees,

their heads bowed. To stand in the presence of one of

these warriors would have been an honour unmatched,

but to be greeted by three such giants amongst the

Astartes was truly incredible.

‘You return to us, Uriel Ventris,’ said Lord

Calgar, and Uriel’s heart soared to hear the welcome and

respect in his voice. ‘I had not thought to ever lay eyes

on you again.’

Uriel looked up into Lord Calgar’s face, revelling

in the sight of so perfect a warrior. Marneus Calgar’s

features were as hard as granite hewn from the deepest

quarry, yet there was wisdom and nobility within them,

his eyes cold as steel and yet filled with humanity.

The Black Library Page 23

‘Nor I you, my lord,’ said Uriel, unable to keep

his tears from falling.

‘Varro here said we would see you again, but I

didn’t believe him,’ said Calgar. ‘I should have known

better.’

‘Yes,’ agreed Tigurius, ‘you should have. Did I

not say the Sentinel of the Tower would fight alongside

us when the Thrice Born is clad in flesh once more?’

‘Aye, that you did, Varro,’ said Calgar, ‘and one

day you will explain what that means.’

Calgar turned from his Chief Librarian, and

placed the open palm of his heavy gauntlet upon Uriel’s

head. The Chapter Master’s grip could crush the hardest

metal, yet could cradle the most delicate glass sculpture

without fear of its destruction. Uriel’s life was in his lord

and master’s hand, yet he could think of no one to whom

he would more gladly entrust his fate.

‘What say you, Uriel?’ asked Calgar. ‘Do you

return to us in glory?’

‘We return to our Chapter having completed our

Death Oath,’ replied Uriel.

‘Then you will be welcomed,’ said Calgar.

‘The creatures I saw in my vision,’ said Tigurius,

and Uriel sensed his words were laden with meaning

beyond his understanding. ‘The daemonic brood

creatures… you found them?’

‘We did, my lord,’ confirmed Uriel, ‘on a world

taken by the Ruinous Powers. We found them and

destroyed them. Our journey has been long and hard, and

we have seen much that is terrible, but also much that is

The Black Library Page 24

glorious and inspirational. I have seen men become

monsters, and monsters that became heroes.’

‘And you will stand with this, Pasanius?’ asked

Cassius with a grimace that appeared sardonic, but which

was simply a fact of the hideous scars he bore. ‘You did

so once before, and were cast from your Chapter. That

must have been a wound as grievous as the loss of your

arm.’

Pasanius shrugged. ‘I am whole within, my Lord

Chaplain.’

‘That remains to be seen,’ said Tigurius,

addressing them both. ‘You have returned to us as

brothers, but you have trodden the soil and breathed the

air of a damned world. Brother Leodegarius of the Grey

Knights vouches for the purity of your flesh, and his

word is all that allowed you to descend to the surface of

Macragge alive.’

Tigurius loomed over Uriel and Pasanius, the

crystalline matrix of his hood leaping with shimmering

wych fire.

‘You will tell me all that occurred on your

journey,’ stated Tigurius, the dark pupils of his eyes

crackling with the light of ancient powers, ‘and woe

betide you if I discover any taint in your souls.’

Изменено 11 мая, 2009 пользователем Darog

[Dr Darog]

Для ленивых:

В отрывке Юра и Ко уничтожат легких движением руки взвод Пасфайндеров и Девилфиш, а также там описано возвращение Юры на Макряг. Язык, кстати, нормальный.

Интересные моменты.

The Ultramarines had learned much of the ways

of the tau and their rapidly expanding empire on the

killing fields of Malbede, Praetonis V and Augura.

‘The after-action telemetry from the Zeist

Campaign helped us find this one, and if this battle is

anything to go by, we shouldn’t have much trouble

finishing them off.’

‘This wasn’t a battle,’ said Uriel.

‘No?’ asked Learchus, marching in step with

Uriel. ‘What was it then?’

‘For all my adrenal system reacted once we

engaged, it might as well have been a training exercise,’

said Uriel. ‘Everything about this fight was textbook,

from the diversionary shot to the concealed kill-team and

the fire support group.’

То есть действие происходит в 98-99 годах 41М

‘Yes,’ agreed Tigurius, ‘you should have. Did I

not say the Sentinel of the Tower would fight alongside

us when the Thrice Born is clad in flesh once more?’

‘Aye, that you did, Varro,’ said Calgar, ‘and one

day you will explain what that means.’

Об этом скорее, всего будет, следующая книга) Юра-таки встретится со своим аддским двойником.

[Iron Maiden]

Долго и вдумчиво тупила на спойлер к ПЯТОЙ книге, пока до меня дошло, что черт побери, новая книга про Вентриса почти с нами.

Ушла вожделеть в предвкушении.

[Dr Darog]

Кстати, зверски замочив таусят, просто разорвав их на куски, Юра берет в плен таусятскую женщину, что он будет с ней делать, узнаете, когда выйдет книга)

И Юра хохмит, как всегда:

Юра Леаркусу:

- Ты ничего не забыл?

- Нет, капитан, все приказы отданы: мы выставили посты, собрали оружие, образцы...

- Ты мне хоть что-нибудь оставишь или сам все будешь делать? Это, блин, моя рота!!!

- Ммм, ладно, понял, больше не буду.

Вспомнил сказку про двух из ларца одинаковых с лица.

Изменено 11 мая, 2009 пользователем Darog

[Iron Maiden]

гусары, молчать))) наш Вентрис не такой, он ничего противоестественного с ней делать не будет)

[Dr Darog]

Есть предположение, что эту гламурную тасятину в прикиде от Киры Пластининой (по книге, она все в фенечках и висюльках), будут пытать)) гЫ)

[Alfаrius]

Ультрасам достаточно будет цепник перед её носом включить... Вот и вся пытка В)

[Guns Linger]

Кстати, зверски замочив таусят, просто разорвав их на куски,

он их как понимаю даже пальцем не тронул. чисто отстрелил. кстати как всегда псевдокарапаксная броня ничто перед болтером и фраг-снарядом. флаффбаннизм, что делать

Есть предположение, что эту гламурную тасятину в прикиде от Киры Пластининой (по книге, она все в фенечках и висюльках), будут пытать)) гЫ)

Дарог наконец-то нашел подтверждение гламурности тау

сколько я по тексту вижу, там только хохолок на макушке золочеными прищепками прицеплен, а так вполне нормальное

‘This wasn’t a battle,’ said Uriel.‘No?’ asked Learchus, marching in step withUriel. ‘What was it then?’‘For all my adrenal system reacted once weengaged, it might as well have been a training exercise,’

‘I agree, but the Pathfinders were incredibly laxin their advance. From what I’ve heard of the battles theChapter has fought against the tau over the last fewThe Black Library Page 17years, it’s a trait I’m surprised to find in warriors withsuch a reputation for being careful.’‘Perhaps they were new troops, yet to be tested incombat,’ suggested Learchus.‘That’s certainly possible,’ conceded Uriel.‘Although it still feels strange that we destroyed them soeasily.’

Уря гордо завалил тауситских духов.)

Кстати, это инфа. Потому что я был уверен, что в пасы только ветеранов посылают.

[Dr Darog]

он их как понимаю даже пальцем не тронул. чисто отстрелил. кстати как всегда псевдокарапаксная броня ничто перед болтером и фраг-снарядом. флаффбаннизм, что делать

Дарог наконец-то нашел подтверждение гламурности тау

сколько я по тексту вижу, там только хохолок на макушке золочеными прищепками прицеплен, а так вполне нормальное

Уря гордо завалил тауситских духов.)

Кстати, это инфа. Потому что я был уверен, что в пасы только ветеранов посылают.

Ну, что поделать, это бек, по беку тау разрывает на части от болтера.

Там гламурные украшения, на гламурной прическе =)

Это ПРЕДПОЛОЖЕНИЕ Юры, потому что пасфайндеры кончились быстро, он никого не порвал руками, не впечатал кулаком в череп и т.д. Вот он и расстроился, и предположил, что были новички ;)

По тексту строго так.

Так что завалил он ветеранов - см. кодекс тау.

[Lastman]

Юре откровенно скучно... после здоровенных хаоситов, не менее могучих бесштанных и тиранидских монстроситиз...какая-то 3-я тафна...

[Свинота безграмотная]

Ховайсо Тау. Вы еще не знаете, что Вас ждет... :D А мы знаем, но не скажем :P .

Радует то, что больше узнаем про самих Тау. Ну, и конечно, ждем ШИКАРНОГО и ПАФОСНОГО возвращения Вентриса домой.

[Dart Korvinus]

мейби спойлер ибо много букафак на английском для моего юного моза это плохо

[Dr Darog]

» Спойлер к маленькому куску из новой книги. Очень вольня и стебная трактовка, хранителям пафоса не читать. «

Открывается книга прекрасным описанием пейзажа Павониса, который постепенно скатывается к описанию разбитой виллы местного предателя-губернатора, тут-то и происходит действие.

Юра и Ко залегли в травушке-муравушке, ждут... кого ждут становится понятно сразу: некто крадется от дерева к дереву. Разведчик, думает Юра, отмечая, что двигается он так же хорошо как родной скаут, но что-то в его движениях не то... присмотревшись, Юра понимает, что це тау.

За первым появляются и остальные таусята, они останавливаются и начинают осматривать местность, причем главный достает какой-то хитрый аппарат, Юра смекает, что это штуковина для разведки и топографии, значит, це Пасфайндеры - отборные разведчики тау. Хороший момент для атаки, чтобы зарамсить подлых ксеносов, но Юра - хитрый, он выжидает.

Тут-то из-за бугорка вылетает Девилфиш, следует описание данного чуждого имперскому глазу бтра, кстати, Юра сравнивает его с Рино. От фиши отделаются два дрона и прочесывают местность, ни фига они не находят, тау тоже своими раскосыми глазами не замечают... Марины в инфильтре.

Вот тут, когда таусята расслабились и накрыли пикничок, Юра командует: "В атакууууууууу!". Главный тау слышит Юру. но уже поздно (видно Юра таааак орал в динами шлема, что даже тау услышал, глухие же у него подчиненные). В тау и фишу летят две ракеты из отделения девастаторов, осколочная разрывается среди тау и крошит их на маленькие куски, вторая летит в танк - танк чудом не подбит. Но правда долго он не прожил - с другой стороны в него полетели еще 2 ракеты. Одна попадает в задний двигатель. В общем, фише настал капут, вместе с экипажем, вылезти они не успели, сгорели заживо. А в это время скауты, которые сныкались в 5 метрах от хваленных разведчиков-ветеранов-тау скидиывают камо-плащи и начинают цинично добивать тау: двоих сразу, а потом еще одного. Юра бежит с болтером на перевес, бежит, бежит... и никого не убивает... не успел, а так хотелось. Последний тау понимают, что песенка их спета в ля миноре и пытаются сбежать, укрывшись в деревья, в итоге последний тау пойман, бросает оружие и поднимает руки...

Подкатывают два Рины, бойцы собирают оружие тау, прочесывают местность, в общем, отдыхают после малюсенького приключения. Тут нам объясняют, что кампания на Павонисе происходит уже после Зеиста, где Сикарий так надавал тау, что они решили не связываться с Ультрамаринами и прикрыли 3-ью фазу расширения. Кроме этого, ультрамарины узнали все, что нужно для борьбу с ксеносами.

Юра зовет поговорить Леаркуса, того самого гламурного эмоционального жлоба, что сдал его и потом исполнял обязанности И.О, восстанавливал роту и громил орков (об этом читайте в комиксе, ссылку я тут постил).

Юра сетует, что ему никого не удалось порвать лично и что все так быстро закончилось, предполагая, что это были новобранцы, но приходит к выводу, чтол это только разведчики, а основные силы на подходе (Вот, глупые тау, ничему их добрый дядя Сикарий не научил, теперь они познают все виды страдания от пафоса Юры, мне их жалко).

И Юра хохмит, как всегда:

Юра Леаркусу:

- Ты ничего не забыл?

- Нет, капитан, все приказы отданы: мы выставили посты, собрали оружие, образцы...

- Ты мне хоть что-нибудь оставишь или сам все будешь делать? Это, блин, моя рота!!!

- Ммм, ладно, понял, больше не буду.

При этом Леаркус все поддевает его, что надо по кодексу действовать, на что Юра отвечает: Я понял всю меру, степень, глубину в Оке Ужаса и не надо мне на мозги капать и ваще.

Потом они обращают внимание на пленного тау. Юра требует на великом и могучем готике ксеноса снять шлем... Безграмотный провинциальный ксено-варвар, естественно, всегалктического языка не знает, за что получает прикладом от марина-охраника . Юра изображает мима и показывает руками, чего он хочет. До тау доходит (еще бы не дошло, мары руками черепа ломают). Оно пафосно снимает шлем (наверное, как в голливудских фильмах это делал Шерен Стоун), и Юра видит серое лицо ксеноса, покрытое субстанцией с очень старанным запахом, от затылка к шее у нее (Юра сразу почему-то решает, что это Женщина) что-то вроде волос, скрепленных гламурными блестящими в стразах сваровски заколками-венечками от О'киры Ва'пластининой. Носа на морде лица нет, только какое-то отверстие во лбу, которое напоминает шрам скорее. В общем, как правильно решил Бра, это точно злобный ксенос.

Л: Пристрелить?

Ю: Не, мы доставим на базу, у меня там есть ученый муж, специалист по ксеносам, там-то мы с ней и поговорим...

Тут мы переносимся в прошлое, Юру и его друга Пазаниуса доставили на тандерхавке серых на Макряг... мужы расчувствовались, увидев родину и дом, которые уже не ожидали вновь лицезреть, и чуть не расплакались.

П: Юр, ты верил, что мы вернемся?

Ю: Да, верить нужно весегд, но, если честно, я не особенно рассчитывал.

П: А я вотт, Юр, каждый вечер вспоминал дом, ах, дом, милый дом...

На столь сентиментальной ноте, открываются створы дверей и к нашим героям на пафосе выходит сам Марней Калагар, Тигурий и Касий...

Калгра - серьезен, как скала, приветствует Юру и П. Говорит, мол не ожила вас уже увидеть, неужто-то были прям выполнили задание, кстати, о их возвращении он знал. Тигурий опять нес, какую-то фигню, что мол вернутся два богатыря, но он, конечно, этому шарлатану не поверил. Юра в новой модной броне (свою он потерял, а на П, кстати, старенькая, которую подлатали ремесленники серых) отвечает, что мол все по высшему разряду, но пережили мы много приключений. Касий спрашивает П, подписывается ли он под словами своего друга-болтана, шутит, наверное, старикашка, а главное не поймешь, так это или нет - лицо его сплошое месиво из шрамов и аугументики. Ну, Юра уже расслабился, мол все хорошо, обратно пустят. Но тут встревает Тигурий, пророчествует, что-то про злого мини-мы Юры (Нужен же было Макнилу повод написать 6-ую книгу), Калгар говорит, что и с этим разберемся, он уже готов начать большую пьянку с криками "За ультрадесант!" и кампаниями в фонтанах Макряга. . Тут Тиругий злобно заявляет, что Юра и друг его П смогли ступить на землю родной планеты только, потому что серые и убогие за ним замолвили словечко, а теперь им предстоит пройти проверку, он покопается в их мозгах, и если найдет хоть крупинку хаоса (хоть одну порно-фотку сароритки или косяк), то ждет их страшная участь!!! Бууу!!!

Но наши герои были умными все порево они сбросили бедным серым, которым было так скучно одним на корабле, косяки все раскурили еще в Оке, так что проверку прошли... Но Тигурий не успокоился и подговорил Марнея и Касия послать бедных, измученных наших героев еще на одну проверку - пусть замочат всех тау, тогда и возвращаются! Ну, что делать, Юра подвинул Леаркуса, вернув себе пост капитана 4-ой роты "Защитников Ультрамара", собрал пожитки и братву и полетел на Павонис устраивать геноцид синеньких ксеносов.

Пока все.

P.S. Никого не хотел обидеть, книга стоящая, я ее очень жду.

Изменено 12 мая, 2009 пользователем Darog

[Iron Maiden]

а теперь им предстоит пройти проверку, он покопается в их мозгах и если найдет хоть крупинку хаоса

АРРРРГХ... ПРОКЛЯТЫЕ ИЗВРАЩЕНЦЫ! Хватит уже сношать бедный Юрочкин моск.. Сначала вот сеанс церебрального секасу с Серым, теперь вот и Тигурий туда же.. *ненависть*

Изменено 12 мая, 2009 пользователем Безупречный экземпляр Креос

[Свинота безграмотная]

Ого-го!!! утром прихожу на работу, а тут ТАКОЙ спойлер. Спасибо Darog. Настроение поднял. Я же говорил в 6-ой книге будет мегадрака с Хонсю. ТАУ жалко, попали под раздачу между делом. Вентрису надо будет поднять свой рейтинг в роте, вот и... в общем попали.

[Sidecrawler]

ТАУ жалко, попали под раздачу между делом. Вентрису надо будет поднять свой рейтинг в роте, вот и... в общем попали.

не зря же книга называется "Кураж и гонор"

[Dr Darog]

A review by Timo

Courage and Honour – Graham McNeill

If you thought Uriel Ventris would be able to enjoy his "retirement" after Killing Ground, you will be surprised to find out about the release of a fifth novel in this popular series. Graham McNeill’s short stories in the last couple of Black Library collections kind of hinted that there would be a grand finale with Honsou, and so I was chockful of great expectations regarding Courage and Honor. Isn’t that a bold title for a finale? As it turns out, the book is devoted to an entirely different topic.

Pavonis, the planet from Nightbringer, is under occupation by Imperial troops and Ultramarines after a period of unrest. This state of tentative peace is disrupted when Pavonis encounters a new source of danger: the Tau. What initially seems like a handful of scouts turns out to be more than just a few lost Xenos. An invasion is planned by means of treachery.

Besides the constant battle scenes, Courage and Honor focuses on other issues such as Uriel dealing with his return and his commandership, since his troops fought alone for so long and gained a good amount of competence without him. Pasanius’ whereabouts are discussed, and the novel also poses the question of how prisoners should be treated when trying to attain information.

At this point it becomes evident that there is no avoiding the events of the past few years, as they have influenced even 40k novels. While reading Killing Ground I was already under the impression that McNeill refers to well-known images from the Iraq conflict in several paragraphs. I figured I was probably just over-interpreting. Reading about the pyramids of naked Tau proves my first impression right: McNeill is definitely alluding to the 2004 images from Abu Ghraib. It goes to show once again how our everyday lives and the images we are confronted with are mirrored even in popular fiction.

Unfortunately, just as we start in on these thorny realworld issues the novel starts to drag. Neither depth nor suspense are really build up fom this point on. A handful of skirmishes with the Tau don’t live up to McNeill’s previous Ultramarines novels, not to mention his stellar contributions to the Horus Heresy. Perhaps the novel might be better if one wouldn’t approach it with such great expectations, but I doubt that this should be the new standard following so many great Black Library novels.

It feels as if this book is supposed to fill a gap before finally reaching a big denouement, similar to how second parts are sometimes handled in trilogies. Let’s hope that McNeills returns in top form for that conclusion!

Рецензия парня с Колокола, нужно заметить, что респондент не совсем адекват, да и не фанат Ультры, в любом случае, то, что я видел и читал говорит, что это неплохая книга, хоть и в стиле Мкнила. Прочем, парню уже досталось в комментамх на спойлер)

P.S. В США появилась новая паранойя - иракомания. Вот, что делает с людьми толерантность. Так засунем ее... Burn the Heretic, Kill the Mutant, Purge the Unclean!

Изменено 16 мая, 2009 пользователем Darog