In the dark recesses of the void there lurks horrors that the Imperium of Man has long forgotten, and even more that they have never experienced to begin with. This is in itself a saving grace because in a universe wracked with war, Chaos, and so much noise, the prospect of such a dark and silent place is somehow even more terrifying. The Imperium has proofed itself against their foes through numbers and grandeur; isolation and quiet are anathema to their survival and thus often serve as punishment to those that stray from the Emperor’s path. Some of these poor lost souls invariably find themselves embraced by other powers in order to survive, while others take that punishment and mould themselves to excel in the solitude.
What happens then to Forge World Diamantus when the results of these varied paths fall unbidden on its doorstep? When their dark brethren return to haunt them and the sharks emerge from the depths to hunt?
The Return to the Reef
Void Exile marks Robbie MacNiven’s return to everyone’s favorite ostracized chapter. Some 7 years after the release of the lauded Red Tithe and Outer Dark novels we are finally brought back to swim amongst the shoals and get the chance to see just what has been happening with these Selachian space marines in the last couple of centuries. As is befitting such a long gap between tales, Void Exile features a massive time jump in the series bypassing the events of the Badab War that the previous novels predated and the early years of the ‘Primaris’ saga and dropping us into a more ‘present’ time by Black Library standards.
While I believe many people would have loved a novelization of the events of the Badab War told from the Predation Fleet’s perspective, Imperial Armour 9 and 10 (if you’re looking to read up on it yourself) did a perfectly cromulent job of exploring those events in all of their glorious detail and, honestly, most fans of the chapter are going to more interested in how they are surviving in the latest apocalypse anyway. As to the opening salvos of the Era Indomitus and the introduction of the Primaris to the Carcharodon fold? I think MacNiven’s slight nods to the transition and the chapter’s apathy to the process are perfectly handled. This wasn’t some dramatic event for the Carcharodons, no saving grace or subject of debate for the chapter. it is described as being just a slightly better than expected Grey Tithe that happened in decades past. Truly befitting a group trying so hard to win Most Taciturn in their Astartes yearbook.
If you’re looking to pick up this book it should be noted at the forefront that while it isn’t technically listed as part of a trilogy or series, if you want to fully appreciate what the author is putting down you’ll want to at least familiarize yourself with Red Tithe and Outer Dark beforehand, if not the handful of short stories he’s also written on the subject.
Without these books, Void Exile is still a fine read as MacNiven is very good at describing things getting ripped to pieces, but it swings almost fully into the realm of ‘bolter porn’ if you don’t have the histories of the book’s 3 main protagonists to inform you. The key moments’ in the lives of Khauri, Bail Sharr, and the Pale Nomad are only given the barest of treatments here; you know that something real bad happened to and still has plans for Khauri, that Bail Sharr was at least at some point the Captain of the 3rd Company, and that the Pale Nomad is, and always has been, Gandalf with a skin condition. You’re more or less expected to know the exact details of the rest going in.
This leads to one of my minor gripes with the book. Too much is missing from the time between. A lot of the motivations and drives of the characters here revolve around developments that happened between Outer Dark and the present, and they consistently feel like more interesting stories than what is actually going on. Which I get is the point, it just takes it a step too far. This secretive ‘what actually happened’ less-is-more tactic is a common trope in media that works well enough for Bail Sharr in the context of this tale, but I find falls flat for the other characters. Khauri in particular is a character that feels like he should be so much more than he is and would be if he’d been given more time to cook.
That said, for fans of the Space Sharks, and a little bit of otherworldly body horror, Void Exile is a fun return to the chapter after a long hiatus. AND if you happened to purchase the limited edition copy of the book (with its far superior cover), you also get gifted the wonderful short story A Tithe of Shadows, a brief tale about a Grey Tithe gone wrong, that acts as an interesting prologue to this book.
Summertime in the Void
The first third of our story sets the stage for the conflict and introduces us to the eponymous concept of the Void Exile in Carcharodon lore. A massive space hulk named the Mother-of-Them-All has appeared at the edge of the galaxy and is on a collision course for the Forge World of Diamantus. Luckily, the 1st and 3rd Companies of the Carcharodons, on the urging of Librarian Khauri, have decided to make it their problem, much to the chagrin of the Mechanicus forces on the planet who don’t think it’s that big of a deal (Spoiler: It is actually a big deal). MacNiven’s descriptions of the inner workings of the Hulk in the opening chapters are superb, from the ragged states of the menials-made-pack animals that rove its corrupted and disjointed hulls, to the way he channels the pure madness-made-mathematical, visualizing the setting is absolutely no concern. The absolute mass of this construct and its denizens he is able to convey in stark detail making the initial mission of the titular Exiles we meet seem all the more improbable.
And as to these ‘exiles’ themselves? As far as new Carcharodon lore goes, Void exiles mark their first appearance in 40k canon in the opening chapters of the novel, and they make an immediate splash. These are the Carcharodon Astra made miniature. Marines that have performed some act of dishonor that goes against their chapter’s creeds and have thus been removed from their ‘Shiver’ (company), stripped of their name, and forced to spend the rest of their days being sent on the most dangerous missions with little to no support. Just as the Forgotten One did to their chapter in ages past. In raw terms, the exiles are best described as a cross between an Eversor Assassins, Last Chancers and the Blood Angels Death Company. Their minds wiped between missions, these outcasts spend all of their downtime in stasis pods, only fed the necessary data to achieve their next objectives. It is an ignominious fate that further dehumanizes the already distant and abhuman marines that suffer it. Yet it is in this rite and how the myriad characters within the novel react to it, in between the pages and pages of knife fights and stoic stands against swarming hordes, that we are shown that they are not quite so distantly removed from their own humanity as they strive to believe.
This is a good thing, and I wish more time was spent exploring it. As a colleague of mine noted when discussing the pros and cons of Red Tithe, often the main way we are able to immerse ourselves in the best marine novels is through the human or human-adjacent side-characters that ground the story and Void Exile is effectively wholly without those. Injecting this extra layer of internal conflict into the Carcharodons gives us something to identify with and shows us some of the cracks in the cold facades they try to embody.
Juxtapositions and Cool Villains
One thing I have always enjoyed about the Carcharodons novels is how MacNiven solidifies the identity of the chapter not just in the Polynesian motifs (which are awesome) and copious shark allusions (though very few shark puns which is a shame), but in how they are purposefully juxtaposed against the other factions in their tales. Whether it be the Night Lords in Red Tithe, or the Ashen Claws and even the Tyranids/GSC in Outer Dark, we learn more about this mysterious chapter when we compare them to what they are not. That trend continues in Void Exile as we get to compare their cold refutation of emotion and acceptance of isolation with that of the Adeptus Mechanicus and the gleeful studies of the “faculty” of the Arcifane (along with a secret third thing just for Bail Sharr that we won’t go into here).
His faculty had assembled. Fellow seekers of enlightenment, academics and philosophers, those who sought the union of body and machine in pursuit of the divine. It pleased him to see that so many had survived the voyage. There was Markel Vost, his mechadendrite tentacles writhing with anticipation, and beside him old Keegon of the Broken Cog, his form veild by the black Mechanicum robes that hung from his unnaturally tall, lean body. There the conjoined ever-arguing Zeen twins, and Milner Krost, burdened beneath his soul jars –Â
Just like with his descriptions of the Space Hulk itself, MacNiven does an absolutely standout job of bringing these antagonists to life. So much so that I really wanted to spend more time with their more minor elements instead of the constant returns to marine combat. The forces of the Dark Mechanicum are an enemy we don’t see as much as I’d like in the Black Library and the author really brings them to life for the seconds they appear on the page before being chopped in half or blown to bits. The leader, Voldire, and his faculty of likeminded priests feel absolutely insane in the best possible way and I’m here for it. I’d definitely read a full Fabius Bile-esque novel just devoted to what some of these nerds got up to before Diamantus, particularly those only given the briefest introductions. There’s some real untapped potential here that we only scratch the surface on before returning to krak grenades and bolt rifles. Even just the concept of a profane follower of Chaos being concerned with tenure during the culmination of centuries of preparation brings me an immense amount of joy.
Alone in the Dark
Void Exile is about a lot of things if you want it to be. There are the outlines of a story here about the balance of duty and responsibility, about isolation and abandonment, and embracing or denying fate. Unfortunately, if that is what you are looking for, these really are just the outlines. There are a number of really poignant and/or interesting ideas introduced here that get stifled either by the inherent stoicism of the chapter (which is probably purposeful) and the constant shifts to pitched combat.
Now, if you’re looking for a story about the murder of hideous techno-organic hordes and the heroic actions of a handful of marines and members of the Mechanicum? This book delivers in spades. As I’ve said a few times, MacNiven is incredible at delivering on imagery and his battle scenes are no exception. The Third Company and Exiles in this book are given plenty of time to shine in their grim duty of delivering Rangu’s justice and there is some definitive value to just shutting off half of your brain and enjoying the heroics.
Overall, while the book is not without its faults, I believe fans of the Carcharodons will be quite happy with the return of their chapter, and the story leaves enough open threads to indicate we’ve not seen the last of this Shiver. I know I for one am hoping we get our next fix in the not-so-distant future.
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