“Actually, they are not in conflict at all. Jeremiah, I swore to you that Cadmus would be yours to deal with once we had rescued Gabriella.” Ragnar said calmly.
“Yes, and you gave me your word that if I helped you, I’d be free to go,” said Cadmus, the words almost dancing from his lips. He was growing impatient.
“That’s not entirely correct.” Ragnar said, pulling a chainsword from the wall. “I promised you that your life would be yours, and it is.” Ragnar tossed the chainsword to the ground at Cadmus’s feet. “I suggest that you defend it.” Ragnar crossed back across the room past Cadmus, and stopped next to Jeremiah, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“He is yours to do with as you see fit. I’m sure that you will do the right thing.” Ragnar said, before turning and leaving the room.
Jeremiah turned his full attention to Cadmus, who was kneeling to retrieve the sword. For a moment there was fear in his eyes: the fear that someone feels when justice is finally served on them after a lifetime of betrayal. This caused a smile to cross Jeremiah’s face. His original mission was to deliver the Fallen to the interrogator-chaplain, but Jeremiah knew that path was no longer possible. Cadmus had lured his battle-brothers, Dark Angel and Space Wolf alike, to their deaths, sacrificing his men to further his own means. Redemption was not possible for the likes of Cadmus. Right or wrong, this was the path that Jeremiah was on.
Drawing his sword, Jeremiah swore to himself that he would see Cadmus dead whatever the consequences.
“So, this is how I will meet my end, killed by the Emperor’s lapdogs, on this backwater world, left to rot in this forgotten dungeon.” Scorn dripped from Cadmus’s voice as he prepared himself for combat.
“Too good an end for the likes of you.” Nathaniel declared, drawing his sword.
“No, Nathaniel. Leave the room,” ordered Jeremiah. “Trust me in this. If I fall, keep him from running like the coward that he is.”
Nathaniel wanted to protest but he knew better. He would honour Jeremiah’s last order regardless of the price. He nodded, then left the room. He had served with Jeremiah for many years and had unwavering confidence in his skills.
“So, Jeremiah, you intend this to be a single combat: you and I to the death?” Cadmus inquired.
“Absolutely, you and I, single combat, to the death,” Jeremiah answered.
“You know you don’t stand a chance. I walked the stars when the Lion himself commanded the legion. I was there when Caliban cracked. Even without my armour you are no match for me.” Cadmus said, gloating.
“You will not leave here victorious, Cadmus, but should I fall this day you will be able to leave here unhindered. My brethren will honour my word in this,” Jeremiah commanded.
Jeremiah knew what he had to do, but Cadmus was right about one thing: he had centuries more experience. Jeremiah would not falter, he couldn’t; this evil must be stopped. His faith and determination were all he had. He knew that would be enough.
Jeremiah and Cadmus circled each other in the centre of the chamber. The Dark Angel’s heart filled with rage. All he had witnessed on Hyades, all the atrocities were the work of one man, but more than that it was the work of one of the Fallen. The Dark Angels had been paying for the betrayal of the Fallen since the Horus Heresy, and even though Jeremiah was responsible for bringing several members of the Fallen before the interrogator-chaplains, he had never witnessed the corruption of one of the Fallen so closely before.
“You can’t beat me, young lion. You haven’t got the skills or the experience,” Cadmus said.
“Your arrogance astounds me, Cadmus. You have turned your back on everything you once stood for, on everything you once held dear. Your fate was sealed the moment you stepped foot on Hyades. Neither my skills nor experience will have much effect on the outcome. Your own actions have determined your fate. I am just an instrument of redemption.” Jeremiah said, speaking from his heart.
Cadmus and Jeremiah slowly circled each other around the centre of the chamber. Both warriors were looking for an opening, a sign of weakness that they could exploit. Suddenly, Cadmus swung his sword in an arcing downwards stroke. Jeremiah parried, and then countered. A quick exchange of attacks and parries were exchanged, each combatant measuring the other’s skills.
“You speak of betrayal? You speak of things you know nothing about. Should I tell you of betrayal, should I speak to you of turning your back on your brothers,” Cadmus said, goading his opponent.
Jeremiah knew that Cadmus was trying unbalance him and force him to make a mistake. He knew that he must not listen, must not allow himself the luxury of an emotional response. He would not allow himself to be distracted by mere words.
Jeremiah lunged, striking low, trying to catch Cadmus off-guard. Cadmus easily parried the attack, and then turned his parry into an offensive strike at Jeremiah’s midsection. He was barely able to parry the attack without putting himself off balance, a fact that Cadmus quickly exploited, as an armoured gauntlet struck Jeremiah squarely in the mouth, knocking him to the ground. Cadmus did not press his advantage, stopping his attack instead to allow Jeremiah to rise to his feet.
Blood trickled from Jeremiah’s nose, which he quickly wiped away. “Keep your lies to yourself Fallen. We are well aware of your treachery. We all bear the burden of your actions. We are the unforgiven, Cadmus, unforgiven for your cowardly actions and for the actions of the rest of the Fallen. It is a burden we will continue to bear until you and all those like you are redeemed.”
Cadmus leapt towards Jeremiah. Their swords clashed and locked at the hilt. The Fallen leaned in, bringing himself face to face with Jeremiah. “You spit out words like the programmed fool you are, regurgitating the propaganda that the real betrayers of Caliban concocted. We did not betray the Imperium. We did not allow the Emperor to perish,” Cadmus said, his voice full of rage.
Jeremiah had heard all he could take. “You may not have thought you were a traitor then, Cadmus, but the seeds of treachery can take a long time to take root. You’ve given in to Chaos. You’ve abandoned everything, just as your newfound allies have abandoned you. We hunt the Fallen in an attempt to allow them a chance for redemption. You are no longer a Dark Angel. You’re not even one of the Fallen any more. You are nothing more than a pawn that Chaos used to lure a disgraced Space Wolf into a trap. You are pathetic. You are beyond redemption and I will hear no more of your lies!”
Jeremiah pushed Cadmus away, allowing his rage to control his actions. He brought his sword around as he spun, an easy parry for the older warrior. However, Jeremiah attacked anew, with blinding speed and fury. Not allowing Cadmus a moment’s respite, each attack came quicker and stronger than the last. The Fallen was giving ground, backing up, unable to ward off the flurry of attacks being thrown out by the young Son of the Lion.
Cadmus’s footing finally gave way and he fell to one knee, barely able to parry the latest blow, which knocked him off-balance. Jeremiah spun around, thrusting the sword through the abdomen of the Fallen Dark Angel. Blood erupted from Cadmus’s mouth.
Jeremiah bent down to stare into the eyes of his adversary, mimicking the Fallen’s last offensive move.
“Your time is at an end, betrayer. Confess your sins and be redeemed,” he spat.
“I will confess nothing.” Cadmus said, coughing up blood.
“The betrayal was not mine but that was your beloved primar…” The Fallen’s final words would never be heard as Jeremiah’s sword tore up through his chest plate, ending Cadmus’s life.
THIRTEEN
An Uneasy Peace
The two groups of Space Marines stood at opposite sides of Cadmus’s secret bunker. Both had private reports to make to their superiors and had respectfully stepped away from each other. Since both teams had comms in their helmets that they could use to sub-vocalise, the physical separation was more a matter of propriety than practicality. Gabriella sat on the floor near the Space Wolves, rubbing her wrists where her bonds had cut her flesh. Her
ordeal had obviously exhausted her, and she seemed focused on recovering her strength.
“Interrogator-Chaplain Vargas, this is Captain Jeremiah of Kill Team Lion’s Pride. The threat was eliminated. Our mission has been accomplished,” Jeremiah said, hoping that the signal would reach the Dark Angels battle-barge far above the planet. The static seemed to have died down on the comms.
Nathaniel and Elijah flanked Jeremiah, waiting for the response and watching their Space Wolf counterparts. The mission was over. All that remained for them to do was to protect their secret.
With one eye on the Dark Angels, Ragnar also made contact with his superior. “Wolf Lord Berek Thunderfist, this is Ragnar of the Wolfblade. The Dark Angels have completed their mission here and will be leaving soon. There is no reason to continue your attack.”
Torin and Haegr stood quietly, weapons at the ready. The tension hung thick in the air. Both sets of Space Marines hoped that the fighting would end.
Jeremiah moved further away, hoping that he would be far enough from the Space Wolves to avoid being overheard. He didn’t want to reveal his Chapter’s secrets to their most intense rivals, no matter how honourable they were individually.
“Captain Jeremiah, is the heretic dead?” asked Interrogator-Chaplain Vargas, his voice ringing cold and metallic.
“Yes, my lord.”
“Do you have possession of his remains?” asked Vargas.
“We do, yes.”
“Activate your beacon. A retrieval team will come for you,” ordered Vargas.
“Interrogator-chaplain, may I boldly suggest that we break off the conflict with the Space Wolves?” asked Jeremiah.
“You overextend yourself, captain,” replied Vargas.
The conversation between the Wolfblade and the Wolf lord fared no better.
“Young Ragnar, it is good to hear you.” The booming voice of Berek Thunderfist came over the comm. “Aye, the battle is nearly over, and we will have these traitors and hang their suits of green armour in the Fang as trophies. Bring about the guns again! Blow them into space, lads!”
Ragnar cringed. He had heard that tone in the Wolf Lord’s voice before when he had stood shoulder to shoulder with Berek in battle against Chaos Space Marines. He knew what kind of warrior the Wolf Lord was: he lived for battle, and would never stand down.
“Lord Berek, the commander of the PDF forces was a traitor. Chaos has infested this planet. The Dark Angels only attacked to eliminate that threat. We need to stop the fighting. There’s no reason for either side to continue this battle.”
“Ragnar, you know that I wish you were still one of my lads instead of a member of the Wolfblade, but I hope your time on Terra hasn’t made you soft,” replied Berek. “The Dark Angels are still firing, and I’ll suffer in the frozen hells of Fenris before I drop my shields or let up, so you had better get them to stop first.”
“I understand,” said Ragnar turning off his comm. He looked over to the Dark Angels, to see if the sensitive part of their conversation was over. Jeremiah nodded and waved Ragnar over, even as Jeremiah continued his conversation.
“Interrogator-chaplain, please hear me out,” said Jeremiah, looking at Ragnar. He knew that Ragnar could not stop the Space Wolves, and in truth, Jeremiah knew that the Wolves were merely defending their territory, no matter how things had escalated. He hoped that the next words he spoke would be inspired by the Lion himself.
“We are in possession of the target, his comm, and his bunker. We have all of his information secure but only because a group of Space Wolves have agreed to a truce with us. If we do not cease hostilities and agree to open negotiations, we will come into conflict with them,” Jeremiah said. Then he looked at Ragnar and added, “The target put up a hard fight, and we will not be able to hold against the Space Wolves. When we fall, they will have possession of all our target’s secrets,” he stated aloud for the benefit of the Space Wolves.
Static crackled over the comm. The Dark Angels and Space Wolves fell silent, waiting for the interrogator-chaplain’s response. Ragnar could feel the apprehension as everyone waited for the reply. The only sound came from one of the infernal beetles, floating in the air, oblivious to the moment.
Elijah grabbed the insect in mid-flight and crushed it in his gauntlet. Despite themselves, the six Space Marines grinned.
“It is my decision, Captain Jeremiah of Kill Team Lion’s Pride, that we open negotiations. Such an action will be to our advantage. Maintain your truce. Recover what you need. The Lion watches over you.” The metallic voice of Interrogator-Chaplain Vargas made the last blessing sound far more like a threat.
Torin sub-vocalised over his comm to Ragnar. “Are you sure about leaving this bunker in possession of the Dark Angels?”
Ragnar nodded ever so slightly. He knew Torin would see the answer. They had Gabriella. She was more important than whatever secrets Cadmus held. Besides, Ragnar was sure that Jeremiah would not end his quest against Chaos. To Ragnar’s surprise, he trusted the Dark Angels to ceaselessly battle their mutual enemies. Jeremiah wouldn’t give up, any more than Ragnar would.
“Our duty is to protect Lady Gabriella. Jeremiah, I trust you and your battle-brothers will take care of this bunker and of Cadmus,” said Ragnar.
Jeremiah looked Ragnar in the eye. So much had happened between them in such a short time. “You have my respect, Ragnar of the Wolfblade. You and your brothers are men of honour,” he said.
Ragnar nodded. Saying nothing, he, Torin and Haegr turned and left. Ragnar offered Gabriella his arm for support, but she shook her head.
“I can walk, Ragnar,” she said, favouring him with a weak smile.
“My lady, this bunker is out in the jungle, and you might do well to conserve your strength until we’ve returned to the city,” he offered.
“Very well, you may assist me,” she said, regaining the tone of authority.
The Space Wolves paused to wordlessly exchange salutes with the Dark Angels, although Gabriella did not acknowledge their recent allies. Jeremiah and his men said nothing, and began their search of the bunker for any information left by Cadmus.
“Come! There are lizard-ape creatures that mighty Haegr wishes to add to his legend.” Haegr said, raising his hammer. “Follow me,” he bellowed and led the way out of Cadmus’s secret base.
Inside Lethe, the battle continued. About halfway between the city centre and the outer walls, Mikal and the Wolf Guard had encountered a squad of Dark Angels. The Dark Angels’ weapons were covered in blood and gore, evidence of the many men they had slaughtered since the assault had begun.
Mikal roared as he and the other Wolf Guard fired into the Dark Angels. Seven of their enemy fell as bolter rounds smashed into their ranks. They weren’t dead yet, as Space Marines could survive extreme amounts of damage, but they were out of the action. The three remaining Dark Angels reached the ranks of the Wolf Guard, swinging their chainswords and firing their bolt pistols. Mikal licked his fangs. Like most Space Wolves, he preferred dealing with his enemy in hand-to-hand combat.
Chainsword struck ceramite as a Dark Angel thrust at Mikal. The Wolf Guard swung his power fist into the helm of his attacker, disregarding the chainsword strike, trusting that his armour would hold. It did, and the power fist made short work of his opponent’s helm.
A shrill cry cut through the air, followed by hissing from all directions. Mikal caught movement in his peripheral vision. New attackers swarmed the Space Marines. Large reptilian humanoids leapt from buildings and rushed into the warriors from all sides.
These new foes stood as tall as the Space Marines. Grey-green scales covered their bodies along with tufts of green, brown and red fur. Their large eyes were yellow with diamond-shaped black pupils. Long fangs and sharp teeth filled their jaws, although they moved more like primates than lizards. Many of them had strange warpaint in red and purple streaked across their bodies. Fearlessly, they launched themselves at the Space Marines.
The attack startled the
Wolf Guard, but it did not deter them. No matter the foe, they would fight for their Chapter and the Emperor. If these creatures did not already know enough to fear the Space Wolves, then by the end of the day they would.
Serrated jaws clamped on Mikal’s arms, although they had less of an impact than the chainsword had moments before. Mikal threw the creature aside, and blew the guts out of another with his storm bolter. In their power armour, the Space Wolves were nearly impervious to the creatures’ blows, but the sheer weight of the attackers’ numbers threatened to drag Mikal and the Wolf Guard down.
Mikal redoubled his efforts, giving the wulfen its head and letting the anger and fury within his breast guide him. He was a berserker, slashing and smashing his foes. Mikal tore through tails and teeth, heads and hearts, pushing himself to the limits to overcome his enemies.
The Wolf Guard were hard-pressed. Mikal saw his men pulled down under the horde of aliens to his left and right. They still moved in their armour and he had every hope that they still lived, but the tide of beasts was too much. They could not hold.
The ground shook violently. Mikal didn’t notice at first, thinking that it was more explosions. Then screeching started from the horde of creatures. Several hissed and turned to face something down the street.
A large shadow blocked out the sun and one of the beasts fighting Mikal unlocked its jaws and leapt away.
A giant metal claw flung the bodies of three lizard creatures skyward against the smoke- and flame-filled heavens. Mikal felt his blood boil with pride. The shadow belonged to a massive venerable Dreadnought. Towering over the enemy, Gymir the Ice-Fisted reached down to slay them in massive swathes. The mighty Dreadnought had come to the aid of his fellow Space Wolves.
“Die, xenos scum! Face the fury of Fenris,” Gymir boomed through his array of speakers.
Gymir continued to wield his power claw like a scythe, moving it back and forth, and cutting down the creatures in a gory harvest. Bones snapped as the Dreadnought unleashed his might against the beasts. The mere presence of the ancient machine shook the aliens, who stared and hissed at the machine in fear, frustration and rage. Ultimately, fear won out over the other emotions, and the surviving lizards broke off their attack and scattered in all directions. Gymir stood, surrounded by mounds of bodies, looking for more of the creatures to fight. Finding none, he turned with a whirr to face Mikal.
[Space Wolf 05] - Sons of Fenris Page 23