Warhammer 40,000 - Anthology 13

by The Book of Blood (Christian Dunn)

  ‘It is time to admonish our foes once more,’ said Zael.

  ‘Yes, I feel the need to administer the justice of the Emperor,’ growled Lorenzo. He drew his power sword and activated its glittering blade. ‘Let us be the blade of the Angel’s judgement!’

  ‘Praise the Angel,’ the others chorused, falling in behind Lorenzo as he stalked towards the front line.

  Soon the clatter and chatter of the breach head was behind them. The echoing retorts of storm bolters and rebounding roars of assault cannons replaced the whirr of drills and crack of welders. In the mess of interlacing corridors, sub-vents, access ways and doors it was easier to navigate by the readings of the sensorium than by what could be seen or heard. Lorenzo identified the area his squad had been ordered to secure and signalled ahead to Sergeant Adion that they were approaching.

  In turn, each of Lorenzo’s squad replaced one of Adion’s men, taking positions overlooking a wide causeway that had once been the main dorsal corridor of a ship. They did so in the midst of combat, taking up the relentless battle against the swarms of genestealers hurling themselves at the cordon.

  ‘Keep an eye on the bulkheads to the right,’ warned Adion as Lorenzo joined him. The sergeant loosed off a quick burst of fire at a genestealer clambering from a sub-duct before pointing to a wall some thirty metres away, heavily dented from the other side. ‘They’ve tried to break through three times already and we used the flamer to burn them out. I can’t say how much longer those bulkheads will hold.’

  ‘Affirmative,’ said Lorenzo, adding his own fire to that of Adion. Lorenzo checked that his warriors were in position and gave Adion a reassuring thump on the arm with the hilt of his sword. ‘The area is secure, you can break off now. The Chapter shall honour your deeds.’

  ‘The Angel stands watch,’ Adion said in reply before backing away down the corridor, firing a parting salvo at the enemy.

  00.14.52

  LORENZO DIVIDED HIS attention between firing his weapon, monitoring the enemy’s movements on the sensorium and listening to the mission updates on the comm. The analysis of the C.A.T. data was complete and Captain Raphael had outlined the situation.

  The genestealers, more than forty thousand of them, were in a dormant state, hidden in a cluster roughly one kilometre from the landing zone. The ship in which they had made their lair seemed relatively intact, sealed from the vacuum and with minimal life support functions still operating. The same systems that maintained a modicum of temperature and atmosphere for the genestealers to survive could also prove to be their death. It was the captain’s intent to use the air circulation system to poison the aliens as they hibernated. More Techmarines had arrived from the strike cruiser with tanks of lethal gas. Small scale tests were being conducted at another point on the perimeter to determine the concentration of toxin required to kill the genestealers.

  ‘If they’re dormant, why don’t we go in and slaughter them before they wake up?’ asked Zael. ‘One big push could wipe them out. These delays give the enemy more time to rise and gather their numbers.’

  ‘That’s what we thought last time,’ Lorenzo replied quietly. ‘At first it was just as you say; we slaughtered hundreds of them. Our attack caused some change, a shift in their behaviour. Each one that fell seemed to trigger the waking of ten more. They responded quickly, thousands of them emerging from their stasis within seconds. They surrounded us in minutes.’

  Lorenzo did not have to continue. All present knew the rest of the tale. A shameful day in the Blood Angels’ otherwise glorious history.

  ‘Today the debt from that black day will be repaid,’ said Zael. ‘We will destroy this loathsome foe and restore our pride.’

  ‘The Angel wills it,’ said Valencio. ‘Praise Lord Sanguinius!’

  They fought on without further word for some time, each Terminator concentrating his efforts on killing the enemy. Gunfire reverberated constantly along the hallway and the corpses piled upon the concourse now numbered several hundred.

  Then, as if some unseen hand had closed a door or shut off a tap, the attacks suddenly stopped. The silence that descended was more unnerving than the riotous clamour of battle, and Lorenzo steadied himself with thoughts of his primarch and the Chapter.

  ‘Synchronise your sensorium data with Omnio,’ Gideon’s voice drifted over the comm. ‘He has noticed something important.’

  Lorenzo adjusted his sensorium to receive data over the inter-squad comm. This had the effect of increasing its range, at the expense of clarity. There were two patches of green fog - clusters of indistinct contacts. Both were growing: one a hundred and fifty metres ahead, the other some seventy metres to the right flank.

  ‘There has been a pattern in the attacks,’ Omnio explained. ‘They have been working systematically along the perimeter, seeking weak points. I believe they were attacking to judge our firepower and numbers, learning from our tactics and responses.’

  ‘And now?’ asked Lorenzo.

  ‘That sounds very sophisticated,’ Deino said, doubt in his voice.

  ‘My observations are accurate,’ said Omnio. ‘The next attack will be from two directions simultaneously at the point between our curtains of fire.’

  Flashing red icons highlighted a route through the corridors that would cut between the two squads with the minimum of exposure to the guns of the Terminators. The second attack would encircle Gideon and his men.

  ‘We have to close the gap,’ said Gideon. ‘We cannot allow them to break through.’

  ‘That will leave you vulnerable on your right,’ Lorenzo pointed out, studying the schematic.

  ‘Yes,’ said Gideon.

  ‘Very well,’ said Lorenzo. ‘Deino and Zael, move to the right and close off that path. Valencio, take Deino’s place on point.’

  Gideon was reorganising his squad’s dispositions as well. The attack came before they were fully in position. Dozens of genestealers raced forward, the smudges of green splitting into separate contacts on the sensorium as the range closed. Zael used his flamer to close off a side-tunnel. Deino joined his fire with that of Scipio from Gideon’s squad, creating a crossfire in one of the rooms the genestealers now had to pass through. Zael moved forward with the cleansing fire of his weapon, like shutting a lid on a box.

  Gideon’s squad was hard-pressed on the right, the aliens coming within only a few metres before revealing themselves. The sergeant’s icon was at the forefront of the battle and Lorenzo could imagine Gideon standing firm with storm shield and thunder hammer, protecting his men. Lorenzo fought the urge to move across and aid his battle-brother. The line had to be held. He whispered a benediction to the Angel on behalf of Gideon and his men, and turned his attention back to the dark corridor ahead.

  00.13.88

  THE GENESTEALER ATTACK was in full force. Multiple swarms of the creatures came at the Terminators from different directions, splitting them, dividing their attentions. From the reports over the comm Gideon knew that Space Marine casualties were mounting.

  ‘Defensive posture is weakening,’ announced Captain Raphael. ‘Techmarine analysis of toxin effect complete. Now we attack. All squads converge on primary hibernation site for final extermination. The scene of our reprisal is set. We are the avengers. Nemesis.’

  ‘Finally,’ growled Leon. He unleashed a furious burst of fire from his assault cannon, clearing a junction ahead and stomped forwards eagerly.

  ‘Purge the xenos!’ said Gideon, moving up behind Leon. ‘Blood Angels, the time of our retribution is nigh.’

  ‘Breach head infiltrated!’ Captain Raphael warned over the command channel. ‘Brothers Auletio and Cannavaro are compromised. Gideon and Lorenzo, fix on their beacon signals. Now transmitting their suit frequencies. Insufficient time for rescue. Establish viability of missing brethren. Destroy if necessary. Protect our gene-seed.’

  ‘Affirmative,’ said Gideon, feeling suddenly deflated. The signal came through on his sensorium - two red blips pulsed roughly three hundred
metres away. ‘Signal received. Moving out.’

  ‘Prayers of vengeance steel our souls,’ said Raphael and then he was gone.

  ‘Lorenzo, take the signal at grid eighteen-kappa,’ said Gideon. ‘We shall deal with the signal at twenty-kappa.’

  ‘Affirmative, moving alongside your advance,’ replied Lorenzo.

  Leon was at a cross-junction, firing to the left. Gideon moved behind him and took up a defensive stance to the right. As Scipio pressed on between them, a line of genestealers emerged up a ramp in front of the sergeant.

  ‘Suffer the wrath of the Blood Angels!’ he bellowed, stepping forward to meet their charge.

  Swinging his hammer, he smashed aside the first of the genestealers, its shattered body crashing into the metal wall of the narrow corridor. A second alien leapt towards Gideon and he brought up his shield. Lightning arced along the creature’s outstretched claws as it struck, sending the creature into a spasm. Gideon barely brought his shield around to ward away another genestealer attacking from his right. Shifting his bulky armour in the tight space, Gideon brought his hammer down onto the head of the stunned creature. Another was on him in moments, slashing at his abdomen, its diamond-hard claws raking strips of metal and splinters of ceramite.

  Gideon used the edge of his shield as a weapon, bringing it down onto the ridged nodules of chitin protecting the creature’s neck. There was a snap and the genestealer wilted to the floor. A flurry of detonations ahead cut apart two more genestealers and Omnio came into view from a side passage, his storm bolter blazing.

  ‘Flank secured,’ Omnio announced, turning his weapon towards the ramp and unleashing another salvo.

  Gideon slewed his armour one hundred and eighty degrees and marched back to the junction, before turning right and following Scipio’s path. Leon advanced along a parallel course, the intermittent roar of his assault cannon echoing from ahead of Gideon. As usual, Noctis brought up the rear. Quiet and dependable, Noctis fired off bursts from his storm bolter at the genestealers circling behind the squad, retreating a few steps when the opportunity allowed. Gideon slowed his own progress, allowing Noctis to catch up. No one would be left isolated this time.

  A yellow glare ahead announced the arrival of Brother Zael from Squad Lorenzo. Flames flickered along the tunnel, searing through a cluster of genestealers that had leapt from an overhead gantry to land behind Scipio. The aliens writhed in the flames for a second or two and then collapsed into smouldering heaps as the inferno dissipated. Patches of burning promethium scarred the walls and floor. Gideon ignored them and pushed through the dying fires to keep pace with Scipio who was now twenty metres ahead.

  ‘Room, thirty metres to the right,’ said Gideon. ‘Noctis, cover the approach.’

  ‘Understood,’ replied Noctis as he peeled away from the main corridor.

  00.14.62

  THE SENSORIUM SHOWED a steady stream of genestealers approaching the two squads from ahead and behind. Noctis raised a hand in greeting as he saw Zael pass a junction in front of him.

  ‘They’ll no sooner pass me than the Gates of Varl,’ said Zael as he disappeared into the gloom.

  Noctis said nothing. The corridor ahead was blocked by several doors, like airlocks. Blips of the sensorium showed that genestealers were lurking close by. Noctis opened fire on the closest door, blasting it into pieces. Three genestealers turned towards the Terminator, surprised. He fired calmly, gunning down all three in two short bursts. His heavy footfalls reverberating along the corridor, Noctis advanced resolutely, firing at the next door. Another genestealer was revealed by the door’s demise and it suffered the same fate as the others, its blood spattering across a riveted bulkhead.

  Two more doors later and Noctis finally reached the room to which he had been assigned. It was a loading bay of some kind, the mangled remnants of cranes and lifters angled madly in the shadows above. Huge blast doors had been burst inwards by the impact of another vessel at some immeasurably distant time in the past and an outcrop of a crenulated balcony punctured the doorway. Genestealers leapt over the parapet to the floor of the bay, landing sure-footedly and springing towards Noctis without hesitation.

  Noctis fired dispassionately, regarding the aliens sprinting towards him as nothing more than moving targets. He paced his fire, unleashing rounds in sensible double-bursts so as not to jam the mechanism of the storm bolter. When he was down to his last few rounds, he turned his fire upon the balcony, gunning down the genestealers perched on the wall. Having given himself a couple of seconds’ grace with this act, he ejected the empty magazine and slammed in another.

  The Terminator locked the stabilising bars in the knees of his armour and settled into a solid firing posture. He began to hum quietly as he fired; the Hymn of the Angel Resurgent. He kept the beat with the crack of bolt rounds. He wasn’t going anywhere for a while.

  00.15.03

  SOME FORM OF automatic response had sealed all of the doors in this part of the ship. Perhaps the hull had been breached and integrity had been lost, or maybe the ship had come under attack. Whatever the cause, the sealed doors were proving problematic. Line of sight was only a few metres in each direction and Lorenzo was forced to take the lead, his power sword a surer defence than his squad’s power fists against the genestealer ambushes. Rents in his armour and caked gore bore testament to the fury of those encounters.

  The pulsing icon of Brother Auletio’s signal was a few metres ahead. It was surrounded by enemy contact signals. Lorenzo levelled his storm bolter at the door and fired, its rusting frame exploding under the fusillade. The rapid-fire buzz of Leon’s assault cannon sounded somewhere to the right, close to Cannavaro’s ident-signal.

  Six genestealers poured from the room. The first was thrown back by Lorenzo’s opening salvo, the alien behind deftly leaping over its tattered corpse. Lorenzo pulled the trigger to let loose another barrage of destruction but only a single bolt fired before his weapon jammed. The shell took the genestealer high in the chest, knocking it sideways. It staggered to its feet, fanged maw open.

  ‘I am the blade of Sanguinius!’ Lorenzo cried, charging forwards.

  His power sword cleaved the head of the genestealer from its body. Another alien took its place, claws smashing into Lorenzo’s left shoulder as it pounced. The sergeant thrust upwards, lancing his sword through the creature’s exposed throat. The genestealer twisted as it fell, dragging Lorenzo’s arm to one side, the power sword trapped between its vertebrae.

  ‘Clear for fire!’ shouted Deino. Lorenzo ripped free his sword and hurled himself backwards into a narrow side-corridor, smashing against the wall. Bolts screamed past where the sergeant had been a moment before and droplets of thick blood splattered the passageway.

  ‘Move ahead and secure,’ ordered Lorenzo as he righted himself.

  Deino advanced past and Lorenzo fell in behind. Upon entering the room at the end of the passageway, Deino stopped suddenly.

  ‘Emperor’s mercy,’ the normally cool Terminator muttered.

  Lorenzo moved into the room, stepping past Deino. Scraps of red armour littered the chamber and a severed servo arm twitched in one corner, gouging a furrow into the tiles of the floor. Auletio sat with his back propped against the wall. His armour had been stripped away in many places and blood trickled from a gash across his face.

  It was not the injuries to the Techmarine that had caused Deino such dismay; it was the rest of his appearance. Lorenzo could see that the Techmarine’s flesh had a bluish tint to it. Auletio’s skin was pocked with lesions and oddly shaped protuberances swelled underneath his pale skin. His veins were like thick cords across his arms and neck and his face was distorted. His eyes bulged and ridges were breaking through the skin of his brow. A lone fang punctured his upper lip, curving up towards his nose.

  There was intelligence in Auletio’s eyes, and terror. It was something Lorenzo had never seen in the eyes of another Space Marine. Auletio weakly raised an arm and groaned. Yellowish ichor oozed from hi
s wounds, mixed with his thick blood.

  ‘Target one located,’ Lorenzo broadcast. ‘Viability negative.’

  ‘Same here,’ replied Gideon from the location of the other downed Techmarine, his voice choked, his usual attention to comm protocol forgotten.

  ‘Aggressive genetic mutation,’ Omnio told them. His voice was measured and quiet. ‘The genestealer’s usual breeding function is to use an ovipositor to implant its seed within a victim, and this is passed on to the implantee’s progeny. Space Marines do not follow the normal reproductive cycle. I would theorise that the implanted genetic material is reacting unpredictably with the Astartes modifications. Projection: damage is permanent and irreversible. Suggest immediate destruction to avoid danger of contamination.’

  ‘Zael, I need you up here, now!’ Lorenzo bellowed, his anger fuelled by distaste. Genestealers were still attacking from several directions and Lorenzo forced himself to focus on the mission. ‘Valencio, stand guard at rear station. Deino, push through and link up with Gideon.’

  ‘Affirmative,’ replied Deino, moving out of the room through another doorway.

  ‘I shall protect,’ said Valencio. The thump of his footfalls receded into the corridors.

  ‘En route,’ Zael announced.

  Lorenzo turned his eyes away from Auletio’s and span on the spot to stand over watch on the corridor Zael would be using. It made no difference; the Techmarine’s plaintive stare still hovered in the sergeant’s mind. Lorenzo remembered that his gun was still jammed and worked to clear the mechanism, dragging his thoughts back to the ongoing combat. A pair of genestealers appeared at the far end of the corridor as Lorenzo ejected the storm bolter’s magazine. The sergeant smacked home a fresh clip of shells and opened fire, glad of the release.

  It had been shame of the Blood Angels’ past defeat that had driven on Lorenzo. Now a cold hatred filled him, far sharper and more motivating than any feeling of historical guilt. More genestealers boiled up from the deck below. Lorenzo fired long bursts from his storm bolter as the genestealers converged on the room, the anger welling up inside him, threatening to break through. Lorenzo resisted the urge to charge forwards and administer revenge with his power sword, though every cell of his body screamed at him to let go of his discipline and indulge the bloodthirst that lurked beneath the skin of every Blood Angel.