Rise of the Defiant: Book Two of the Warpmancer Series

by Nicholas Woode-Smith

  ‘For the Defiant!’ Gretswald cried, charging with a sub-machine gun.

  The rest of the group took the ill-chosen charge as inspiration and roared out, opening fire on any additional Imperial who intended to stop them. James did his best to shield them. The Troopers and some of the Ganru held back. They knew that James’ godliness wasn’t omnipotence. James appreciated that. His power was waning as it is.

  A blue shard hit Gretswald. He fell with a shout.

  ‘Get a medic on the preacher!’ Jasper ordered. A Defiant moved forward to where Gretswald had been carried to cover.

  They had secured the room, but a torrent of projectiles and energy had turned the open doorway of the shuttle room into a veritable kill zone. Blue-hot flashes sprayed from the clearing, from where the Imperials had managed to entrench themselves just minutes before James’ crew had landed. Krag-Zot, despite his best efforts, could not outpace the swifter Imperial ship. In trying to land, they had already lost some men.

  Gretswald screamed. James spared a glance and couldn’t help but stare as the skin on Gretswald’s now naked shoulder was bubbling around a blackened hole. Marshal shoved the medic out of the way.

  He held the wound of the blubbering fool, poking it and then recoiling.

  ‘Krag-Zot,’ he shouted.

  The hulking Immortal appeared behind him, temporarily raising a shield and deflecting an Imperial shot back through the doorway. Some of the Defiant recoiled. Nathan almost took a shot at him but then grabbed a hold of his senses.

  Krag-Zot bent down over the preacher, who was in too much pain to show any indication of his feelings of the Areq. Marshal stood and continued firing through the opening. The abatement of enemy fire was a testament to his effectiveness.

  Gretswald’s squirming prevented Krag-Zot from taking a good look. The incessant firing from both sides also didn’t help. Eventually, Krag-Zot held the preacher still with his one armoured arm and sprayed a gel over the wound.

  ‘These Imperial legionnaires use condensed warp blasts as projectiles,’ the Areq stated. ‘It will eat through your flesh and keep on burning unless you apply the appropriate gel or poultice.’

  At that moment, a spherical object was thrown into the room. Krag-Zot batted it back whence it came using a burst of energy. A fizzle sounded and they heard inhuman screams. The volley from outside ceased.

  ‘Clear it out!’ James shouted.

  The Defiant swarmed into the next room. A few shots sounded. The warp grenade had killed most of the Imperials. James examined the room, squatting next to a heavily damaged Imperial corpse. Some bullets had ripped up its helmet to reveal a blue, almost human, face.

  ‘Arnald,’ James called.

  ‘Arnald’s dead,’ a voice replied.

  James bit his lip. Terra dammit.

  He stood up and examined the motley group.

  ‘Fall into your sub-squads. Alpha, remain here and hold this point. The rest, follow me. We’re going to split up and scour this building for survivors and Imperials. We need those guns operational – or else we won’t last ‘till sunset.’

  Alex Yurgan led Alpha. Nathan led Bravo. James led Charlie, with Krag-Zot going alone. Separated, they scoured the building, rendezvousing eventually at the central atrium that housed the main gun. Engineering staff lay dead, strewn across the ground. There was no blood, only ash and charred limbs.

  ‘Every inch of the facility is clear, Defiant,’ Nathan reported, glancing suspiciously at Krag-Zot, who was kicking over an Imperial corpse to check its Conduit.

  ‘Who here knows anything about operating this facility?’ James addressed the group, minus Alpha.

  A few raised their hands. A spiky haired Ganru stepped forward.

  ‘The nitty-gritty is run by AI, Defiant. We just need a spotter and everyone else to make sure he doesn’t bite dust. I ran the simulations. I can take them grako’s down.’

  ‘We’re counting on you, soldier.’

  An explosion rocked the building.

  ‘Battle stations!’ James bellowed. ‘We need AA guns manned, a barricade at every choke. We can’t hold them forever but we are gonna Terra-damn try.’

  The Ganru sprinted to the targeting console, located in an armoured orb. Safely behind five-inches of imported titanium and steel, he began setting up the gun. Across the colossal structure’s sides, red lights began to activate. A syn voice sounded.

  ‘Orbital gun ready to fire. All crew to stay clear of exhaust ports and firing chamber.’

  Imperial legionnaires came rushing in through the main entrance, firing their staffs. A lead Warpmancer lifted a Defiant and attempted to throw him across the room. Krag-Zot and James both intervened, shoving a mobile workbench into the approaching enemies. The force of both their warp pushes sent the hovering tool bench and the Warpmancer into the wall, leaving a splattering of blood.

  ‘Charge!’ Krag-Zot shouted.

  The Defiant ignored that the order was from the Immortal and entered the melee. Ganru drew their short swords and daggers. Defiant used their guns as clubs, or fired at short range. In the confined space, the Imperials were unable to effectively use their long staffs.

  James clutched the masked face of what he presumed to be an Ulyx and heated up the gas around this hand. The Ulyx screamed in pain, firing wildly. James flung him at the wall with his warp enhanced strength.

  The orbital gun fired with a deafening roar. A few surviving Imperials used the opportunity to cut down a Defiant, just to be cut down themselves. The immediate threat abated, the group looked up at the screens which were erected around the atrium. The cameras outside allowed the group to observe as a beam of energy shot out from the facility and pierced something outside of the atmosphere.

  There was no time to rejoice, however, as Alex Yurgan ran in, bloodied and burned.

  ‘Shuttle bay’s taken!’ he rasped, collapsing to the floor. Krag-Zot approached him and sprayed the gel onto his burnt back, as if putting out a fire.

  ‘Barricade the room!’ James ordered. The Defiant obeyed, using all that they could to seal the twin entrances to the atrium. Krag-Zot lifted the heavier objects using his Warpmancy, placing an unused server case in front of the door. Two Defiant welded it to the doorframe. With what was left, they erected cover, setting up a kill zone. With their dwindling ammo supply, James hoped that they would last.

  A Defiant without a gun, on his way to the barricade, bent down to pick up an Imperial staff.

  Before Krag-Zot could cry-out, the Defiant fell to the ground, writhing in pain.

  ‘What’s happening to him?’ Nathan winced.

  ‘Imperial staffs are encoded. They caught my friend like this. You touch the staff with the wrong gloves, you get shocked. He’ll live, but won’t be much use in this fight.’

  ‘Can we put on their gloves?’ James asked.

  ‘I wouldn’t risk it.’

  James swore.

  ‘I will,’ Marshal interjected.

  ‘No, stop…’

  Marshal ignored him, lifting a dead Imperial’s arm and disengaging the glove with some practiced clicks. He must have done this before. The naked hand was blue – an Edal’s. Marshal put on the glove, and after what seemed an age of anxiety, picked up a staff. He was fine.

  ‘Okay then. Team, get gloves on and have a staff at the ready. When we run out of ammo, I want them to eat their own burn.’

  It was not long after the orbital gun’s second fire that the Imperial army took notice. Hammering on the door, plasma cutters on the walls. James and his Defiant crouched behind their measly cover in anticipation, the fire from the orbital gun sending vibrations through the facility. Every rumble of the gun was followed by more incessant battering, and more attempts to cut through the metal housing of the facility.

  But every fortress can eventually fall. The Imperials rushed in like the tide, Warpmancers holding up shields to protect their squads. James and Krag-Zot did the same, giving their men much needed cover. Grenades flew from bo
th sides, many exploding in mid-air as the tossing match proved too long for the fuse. Bullets met warp blasts. When a Defiant ran out of ammo, they turned to the alien weapons, using them as best they could. Fortunately, they seemed to be easier to handle than normal guns, as they possessed no recoil and fired on target.

  James took cover. He pulled back a switch on his glove to disengage his spent crystal and then reached into his tactical vest for a replacement. Empty. Krag-Zot, to his side, tore a crystal out of an unused staff and passed it to James, who then promptly reloaded.

  They were falling. Nathan had run out of ammo for his shotgun and his staff. Others had resorted to waiting for the attack to collapse into a melee. The scene surrounding their laager was that of waves, finally overwhelming a weak beachhead. And then they heard the war cry.

  ‘Grag-Po, Grag-Po, Grag-Po!’

  Grays poured in from behind the Imperial forces, tearing them apart with energy blades, converted power tools and more conventional firearms. Molok leaped from the chaos, driving an axe into the head of Warpmancer and killing multiple enemies with a burst from a machine pistol.

  With renewed hope, the Defiant charged forward, crushing the Imperials between the two forces. James spotted Marshal from the corner of his eye, engaging in close combat with an enemy, as Urg’a executed the unfortunate Imperial from behind.

  Then as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped. Molok dusted himself off and approached James. He knelt at James’ feet.

  ‘Grag-Po, do I have your consent to execute this Xank in our midst?’

  ‘He’s not Xank, Molok. He’s on our side.’

  Molok looked up. ‘As you wish. Now, order us, Grag-Po. Your people want to serve you.’

  ‘We need to keep this gun operational as long as we can. There are anti-air guns around the facility. Man them. Then secure every square metre of this, our lost hope.’

  ‘It will be done.’

  James nodded. He sure hoped so.

  

  Erryn braced herself as her emergency escape pod plummeted towards Nexus. Despite her best efforts, she broke a tooth on impact as the pod smashed into a building. The force field had collapsed under the weight of previous debris, and all that stopped her descent was the reinforced armoured roof of one of Nexus’ residential structures. A jolt as she collided with the roof. Her viewing monitor in the pod was knocked out. Her head was flung to the side but the neck brace kept it from breaking. Beeping signalled that the stabilising rods had been damaged.

  ‘Skiting Aegis,’ Erryn swore aloud, and immediately regretted it as the vibrations sent her teeth chattering.

  Then there was a final explosion of force as the pod stopped its descent. Then black. The beeping faded away.

  ‘Erryn? Erryn?’

  Erryn opened her eyes. She could barely hear her name through the ringing. Her vision was blurry. She couldn’t see out of her one eye. Her head felt like the aftermath of a meteorite impact. A figure came closer, and as the ringing stopped, Erryn heard metal-clad footsteps.

  She unstrapped her one arm, clumsily, and tried to draw her pistol. It slipped out of her fingers.

  ‘It’s me,’ the voice of Yobu sounded. ‘You’re safe.’

  Gunfire nearby revealed that to not be entirely true.

  Yobu wiped her forehead with a cloth and her vision cleared. A cut had bled into her eyes.

  ‘How do you feel?’ Yobu asked, unclipping her straps and neck brace.

  Erryn spat out her broken tooth and a glob of blood.

  ‘Pissed. Grakos made me ram the Kolheim into a frigate.’

  Yobu frowned and put his hand on her shoulder. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘It’s just a ship,’ Erryn lied.

  ‘If you’re healthy, we could use some help here. We’ve secured this section, but only barely. Imperials are moving in from both walkways. We’ve got a group holding the rear, but need to break out towards the Keep.’

  ‘Which section is this?’

  ‘Residential South-4.’

  ‘Skite! Jilly…’

  ‘Calm down! I’m sure she’s okay. Residential had ample time to evacuate to the safe zones.’

  ‘I’m not in the mood for pleasant lies, Yobu,’ Erryn growled. ‘Give me a gun. We’re breaking through.’

  Yobu passed her a Titan AR-25. She lifted herself up, with only a small pain in her lower-back and accepted it.

  Outside were two men, wearing Ganru uniforms but not resembling the usually Asiatic members of the gang.

  ‘Grugo, Leroy, we’re ready. Let’s break through that line.’

  ‘Like old times, eh sarge?’ the dark-skinned man with a short mohawk grinned.

  ‘It was barely a year ago, Leroy,’ the lighter skinned man with dark bangs blocking his one eye interjected.

  The four of them jogged out of the crater that had once been a home. The once calm and clean suburban streets of this domed suburb was now a steaming ruin. Corpses of soldiers, Imperials and civilians littered the streets. As Yobu had said, no living Imperial was currently inside the facility, but that was no comfort. At any moment, Erryn knew that a dropship could deploy reinforcements through the hole that she had formed, or break through the fortifications on either walkway connecting the habitat.

  Defiant, some Aegis troops and militia were holding the walkway to the next suburb. Machine gun fire kept the Imperials at bay, but enemy fire also kept them from advancing. The stalemate was taking its toll on the Defiant, as the pile of fresh bodies grew by the hour.

  They arrived just as the machine gunner’s respiratory pipe was cut by a stray projectile. He began gasping. Yobu charged in and quickly replaced his mask with a backup. Erryn only hoped Jilly had her emergency mask on hand. Without the shining force-fields and reinforced geradite, Nexus revealed its true nature. There was no longer any glitz to hide the poison below. Erryn had always seen the blight that Nova Zarxa’s nightlife and clean hallways hid, but had never imagined how far it could degenerate. This was a planet that did not want to be inhabited.

  The gunner was okay, but the fumes had thrown his perception off. Leroy, the mohawked man, took his place behind the gun and opened fire. A burst of steel-tipped lead and the volleys of blue energy abated.

  ‘We are charging on my command!’ Yobu announced.

  Grugo took the unspoken cue and pulled the pin out of a grenade, cooking it.

  ‘In position, squad, hold,’ Yobu lifted his arm. ‘Maintain suppressive fire!’

  Grugo threw the grenade expertly down the hall. The explosive bounced on the ground and then onto the roof, landing behind the cover of debris on the other side.

  ‘Charge!’

  The flood-gates opened and Erryn charged with the horde. No volley came their way, so none stopped to fire. Closing the gap, she entered the fray.

  An Imperial peaked from cover. She shot it between the eyes. A Defiant leapt over the waist-high wall and was scorched, dying instantly. Erryn pressed her back against the half-wall. They had only taken twenty metres.

  

  ‘Ruble!’ Frank McGraff bellowed, ‘git back to the cover line, mate.’

  Ruble opened fire on two Imperials as they exited a, now ruined, nightclub.

  ‘Ruble!’

  He looked at him and shook his head.

  ‘Skiting colony worlder. Agh.’

  Frank rubbed his shoulder as the pain flared up. Despite the prompt medical care by Erryn, he still had to shift his dominant arm.

  Frank signalled the squad that he was pushing forward, then bolted over the stall towards his friend. Then his eyes widened.

  Lodged in the walkway was some sort of vehicle resembling a white beetle. But it took up the entire walkway, its ridge scraping into and denting the geradite above. It began humming, and opened fire.

  Frank swore and darted for cover – but there was none. Lasers and plasma flew at his face. He closed his eyes. He fell to the ground. No searing pain. Only the ache of his right shoulder as it was pressed against
the cold ground. A warmth from above. A heavy warmth. He opened his eyes.

  Blood. No, red. Red and black. A gas-mask peering into his.

  ‘Lad?’

  No reply.

  ‘Ruble?’

  No reply.

  ‘You skiting idiot.’

  Frank tried to lift his friend, but he heard the clamp of metal. Thud. Thud.

  A hum.

  Then a deafening explosion. Fire streaked over him. Only Ruble blocked the worst of it from burning through Frank’s armour. No more hum.

  ‘Why’d you do it?’ Frank asked, eyes wet.

  Human-like footfalls approached him as the flames abated.

  Why’d you do it?

  ‘We die for our brothers,’ Ruble said. But he didn’t say it. Ruble was dead.

  ‘Lieutenant, orders?’ a Defiant asked, as Frank stood, Ruble discarded upon the floor.

  ‘We die, brothers. We die. But we take all them sons of zots with us.’

  

  They had taken another ten metres, beating the Imperials with butt, lead and club. Cracked metal revealed white and blue skin, marred by alien blood. With a grunt, Erryn once again lifted the shield-wall, moving the cover forward for the gunners. She could hear the bluster of gunfire clearly despite her earplugs. She would need to go to a bio-clinic to cure any chance of tinnitus. She placed the cover down with an oomph. Drawing her gun, she joined the fire line.

  ‘Scarab!’ a militiaman shouted.

  It was what they now called the armoured mini-artillery that had infested the hallways an hour ago. A Defiant, hidden at the back of the squad, stood with a rocket launcher and fired. The scarab, who had been charging its attack, fell in flames. The group that was pinned by it regrouped and entered the fray, flanking the Imperial infantry and eliminating them.

  It was quiet. The gunfire stopped.

  ‘Get a…perimeter…up,’ Yobu panted over the comms, that had recently been restored.

  They had secured Residential.