‘That’s all we saw too,’ Forres confirmed. ‘When we arrived, the place seemed abandoned, then they just started swarming up out of the lower levels.’
‘Which is where we found them in the power plant,’ I added, just as Jurgen leaned over my shoulder to place a mug of recaff on the table. Given the sensitivity of the matters we were discussing, few of the palace servants could be trusted to serve refreshments during the meeting, so Jurgen was standing in for them, his status as my aide putting both his probity and discretion beyond question. As I moved to pick up the steaming beverage, I caught a full strength whiff of his personal miasma, and a stray thought fell into place. ‘Near the volcanic vents.’
‘There were vents in the agricave too,’ Forres added. ‘We could smell the sulphur, even though we never got down to the deepest parts.
‘You’re surely not suggesting these creatures got in through the lava flow?’ Clothilde asked, incredulity ringing in her voice. ‘They’d be burned to a crisp.’
‘They would,’ I agreed, the memory of the swarm advancing across the narrow isthmus of rock surrounded by magma to attack Hell’s Edge still uncomfortably vivid, ‘if they fell in. But I’ve seen them withstand incredible temperatures. And some of them can squeeze through gaps far too narrow for a human.’
‘Warriors can’t,’ Kasteen objected.
‘It’s an interesting hypothesis, nevertheless,’ Izembard put in. ‘Many of the tyranid forms are adapted for burrowing, and Commissar Cain himself witnessed hormagaunts digging in a manner most unusual for their kind. With sufficient determination, the swarm might well be able to enlarge the natural fissures in the rock enough to squeeze through.’
‘Then we’re frakked,’ Broklaw said flatly. ‘This whole area’s riddled with them, isn’t it?’
‘It is,’ Izembard confirmed, his mechanical drone imbuing the words with an air of inescapable doom. ‘However, the geological stresses would force any passages dug closed again in relatively short order.’
‘So the entire swarm can’t travel that way?’ Kasteen asked, and the magos shook his head.
‘Not in any great numbers, or for any appreciable distance. I would assume it to be a strategy for circumventing defences, or striking without warning.’
‘That’s something anyway,’ Kasteen said, clearly determined to find something positive in the situation. ‘We just need to keep a look out for the main body on the surface, and rig up seismographs to warn us if any are tunnelling in.’
‘They may not be entirely reliable,’ Izembard warned, ‘given the unstable nature of the Leeward Barrens. Minor shocks and tremors are registering all the time.’
‘It’s got to be better than nothing,’ Kasteen said, triggering nods of agreement around the table.
‘Does any of this help your predictive algorithm?’ I asked Izembard, trying to purge the question of any lingering trace of sarcasm, and he nodded thoughtfully.
‘It narrows a few of the parameters down,’ he said cautiously. ‘But there’s one target I can predict with complete confidence.’
‘And that is?’ Forres asked, as though itching to march off at once to defend it.
An expression as close to surprise as was possible on a visage with so high a proportion of metal to flesh flickered across the tech-priest’s face. He raised an arm, sweeping it to take in our immediate surroundings. ‘Primadelving,’ he said, as though it was obvious.
I nodded, my mouth dry. ‘Biggest concentration of biomass on the planet,’ I agreed.
Editorial Note:
In the interest of giving a wider perspective on the campaign, I have once again been forced to turn to the most reliable and least readable of the eyewitness accounts. Those of my readers who feel that the additional clarification it affords is scant recompense for the labour of perusing it may rest assured that nothing essential will be lost by omitting to do so, although it does fill in a few gaps in Cain’s account.
From Like a Phoenix on the Wing: the Early Campaigns and Glorious Victories of the Valhallan 597th by General Jenit Sulla (retired), 101 M42.
If any among us felt dismay or trepidation at the news of the tyranid presence here, among the pristine snows and cloud-capped mountains of fair Nusquam Fundumentibus, no sign of it was evident among the doughty warriors I was so privileged to lead. Instead, a spirit of grim determination suffused us all, our resolve bolstered as always by the shining example of Commissar Cain. Despite enduring so much to uncover this new and dreadful threat, Cain remained calm and resolute, his unfailing good humour and unshakable confidence in our ultimate victory doing so much to steady the nerves of any who might waver.
To my quiet pride, First Company was given the task of cleansing the cavern complex of the swarm which had infested it, and from which the noble Commissar had so heroically rescued the beleaguered survivors of the Nusquan First, his exceptional leadership and expertise in overcoming these loathsome creatures proving as inspiring to the women and men of the fledgling local regiment as to our own.
Having read and reread his characteristically self-effacing account of events, along with Sergent Grifen’s after-action report and that of her Nusquan opposite number, I had determined our optimum strategy to be a steady advance, cavern by cavern, with the flamers of our special weapons squads in the vanguard, supported by the massed firepower of at least two infantry squads. This, I felt, would be sufficient to blunt any attempt to overwhelm us by sheer weight of numbers, the favoured tactic of the hive mind, but one which would be far less effective in the relatively confined spaces of the cavern system, where the passageways connecting them would create choke points, restricting the number of creatures able to engage us at any given time. In order to maximise this advantage, I proposed to block the passages tangential to our advance with demolition charges, thus preventing the foul xenos spawn from outflanking us.
In the event, however, the meticulously-planned operation proved something of an anti-climax; as our Chimeras parked around the periphery of the complex, where their heavy bolters could create overlapping fire lanes, either clearing the way for our advance, or, Emperor forfend, covering an orderly retreat should the enemy prove more formidable than expected, we could detect no sign of movement on the surface, beyond the picturesque swirling of the wind-driven snow. Our advance into the complex went almost completely unopposed, only a handful of the unnaturally twisted organisms remaining there, no doubt, to ensure that no speck of organic matter which might previously have escaped their notice went unconsumed; these were dispatched as quickly and enthusiastically as one might wish, and their cadavers incinerated to ensure that the tyranids would be permanently deprived of the resources they contained. Of the great mass of the swarm there was no sign to be seen, the vast majority of its members already having departed in search of fresh provender to consume.
In the days that followed, however, we were to see plenty of evidence of its further depredations, as outlying settlements and installations fell victim to its relentless advance. Though the planetary governor, following the sound advice of Colonel Kasteen and Commissar Cain, had ordered a general evacuation of all such vulnerable habitations, the work took time, and the tyranids exploited every delay. Almost as bad, in its way, was the advance of the orkish hordes, which took full advantage of the redeployment of the Imperial forces to meet the greater threat by surging unchecked across the icefields, looting and despoiling such luckless communities as fell into their hands before the tyranids could reach them.
Inevitably the two xenos breeds clashed, buying valuable time for the evacuation effort, but we were all aware that a battle for our very survival, and that of the whole planet, was imminent. When it came, of course, Commissar Cain was to be at the forefront, his contribution decisive, as so often in his illustrious career.
NINETEEN
As so often happens when facing the tyranids, we were thrown on the defensive, which is never a good place to be. Just to make matters worse the tyranids had split into s
everal smaller groups, which ranged the Leeward Barrens more or less at will, striking small and undefended targets before they could be evacuated or defended92. The only positive thing was that, so far, the infestation was still confined to the Barrens; so the evacuated civilians were sent to other provinces, in the hope that we could contain the situation before it grew to the point where they’d be back on the menu wherever they were.
‘We should be thinking about evacuating the capital too,’ I said, seizing the chance for a relatively quiet talk with Clothilde which an invitation to dine in her private quarters had afforded. It was nothing unusual for a planetary governor to host some kind of reception for the senior officers of a newly-arrived regiment, which was generally extended to include the Commissar and any other advisors attached to the command staff, but the guest list for such affairs normally ran into the low hundreds, all the local nobility and their hangers-on jockeying for a chance to be seen with the defenders of the Imperium. Given the swarms of inbred parasites which my inflated reputation seemed to attract, despite the presence of Jurgen at my elbow, I generally sent my excuses, but in this case the governor had made it quite clear that it was to be a small, informal affair; and given the culinary skills of the average palace chef, I’d felt it churlish to refuse.
Even so, I’d been surprised to find that Kasteen, Broklaw and I would be dining solely with her, and scarcely less so by the subsequent discovery that the reason was her desire to discuss the situation more openly than she’d be able to do surrounded by her usual coterie of advisors.
‘Out of the question,’ she said. ‘Primadelving is the seat of government, and this palace the symbol of Imperial authority. Abandoning it would send entirely the wrong signals to the populace.’
‘I’m not suggesting you go,’ I said, slicing into some kind of roast mushroom which almost covered my plate93, ‘but there’s a significant civilian population here, which remains at risk for as long as the tyranids are at large. They should be moved to a safer area as soon as possible.’
‘All three million of them?’ Clothilde asked, with a hint of amusement.
‘As many of them as possible, anyway,’ Kasteen said.
Broklaw nodded, chewing, and swallowed hastily before chiming in too. ‘Three million civilians is three million pieces of ’nid bait,’ he said. ‘The hive mind will already have sensed such a large concentration of biomass, and be preparing to assimilate it. If it hasn’t attacked yet, it’s only because it can’t marshal a big enough force to be sure of breaking through our defences.’
‘Is that all my people are to you, major?’ Clothilde asked coolly. ‘Potential fodder for the tyranids?’
Broklaw flushed. ‘Of course not,’ he said, ‘but we have to remain aware of the strategic picture.’
‘Spoken like a true soldier,’ Clothilde said, with a smile, and Broklaw flushed again, realising for the first time that she was pulling his leg.
‘Ruput has a point,’ Kasteen said, loyally coming to the rescue of her subordinate, ‘and so does Ciaphas. We’ve all fought the tyranids before, and the lessons we’ve learned were hard won.’
‘I’m sure they were.’ Clothilde took a delicate bite of her mushroom steak. ‘But a mass evacuation on that scale would be impossible with the resources we have to hand. We’re stretched to the limit as it is just clearing the non-combatants from the Barrens.’ She paused to take a sip of wine. ‘And the last thing we need at this stage is to spark a panic.’
I nodded, trying not to picture the effect an outbreak of civil unrest would have in the confines of a cavern city, and the dire consequences it would have on our state of readiness.
‘Nonetheless,’ I pointed out, ‘the fewer innocent bystanders we have to protect when the las-bolts start flying, the better.’ Izembard’s dire prediction was still fresh in my memory, and I could think of no reason to doubt it. ‘If we could persuade some to leave of their own volition, that would be something.’
‘It’s possible, I suppose,’ Clothilde conceded, nodding thoughtfully, and leaning across to refresh Broklaw’s wine glass. We were all here to speak frankly, and that meant doing without the servants who’d normally take care of such niceties. ‘The newsprints and pictcasts are reporting the existence of the swarm, but playing down the danger. I’ll suggest they start being a bit less restrained, emphasise that the other provinces are safe, and let the proles work the rest out for themselves.’
‘That should persuade some to get out while the going’s good,’ Kasteen said. ‘And it might help if the PDF start escorting the crawler convoys too. The last thing we need is the ’nids to massacre one while we’re trying to convince the civilians to travel.’
‘Good point,’ I agreed.
‘Any word on the reinforcements yet?’ Clothilde asked, and Kasteen nodded.
‘Another three regiments are on their way from Coronus. Two more Valhallan infantry ones, and some heavy armour to give the bigger beasties a hard time. If we can keep the outbreak confined to the Barrens until they get here, we might just have a chance.’
‘There’s a Space Marine strike cruiser inbound too,’ I added, noticing the covert look which passed between Kasteen and Broklaw, who were well aware of my association with Amberley, and no doubt suspected I’d got her to pull some strings on our behalf; although on this occasion it appeared to be no more than a fortuitous coincidence94. ‘From the Bone Knives Chapter. It seems they picked up our call for reinforcements, and are responding.’
‘That’s excellent news,’ Clothilde said. ‘How soon will they be here?’
Kasteen shrugged. ‘In a month or so, Emperor willing.’
‘I see.’ The governor chewed another forkful of mushroom thoughtfully. ‘Then let’s hope we’re still around to welcome them.’
As the following tension-filled days piled up to form a week, I began to hope that the governor would get her wish after all. The evacuation continued to run as smoothly as could be expected, snatching innumerable civilians, quite literally, from the jaws of death, while our forces fought a number of skirmishes which we hoped would prevent the disparate segments of the swarm from joining up into a single unified force. Our own troopers had fought the ’nids often enough to know the value of keeping the neural net stretched thinly enough to knock the occasional hole in, and to my surprise the Nusquans seemed to be learning the lesson too, having sufficient sense to copy the tactics the Valhallans were using to such positive effect, instead of just charging in to get butchered as they had done against the orks.
Even more surprisingly, it seemed, we had Forres to thank for their change in attitude; though she was still gung-ho to the point of psychosis, at least from where I was standing, our little run-in with the ’nids in the agricave, and the scrap with the tervigon, seemed to have cured the delusion of immortality common to youngsters fresh out of the schola progenium, and her hard-won pragmatism was transmitting itself to the troopers under her care.
‘Every life wasted on the battlefield is a victory to the Emperor’s enemies,’ I counselled, when we met one morning in the corridor leading to the conference room, in response to some fatuous platitude she’d just quoted about the nobility of sacrifice, and she looked at me a little strangely.
‘I hadn’t thought of it like that,’ she said, then hesitated. ‘May I speak frankly, commissar?’
‘By all means, commissar,’ I replied, amused by her formality.
‘I believe I owe you an apology,’ she said, taking me completely by surprise. ‘In all honesty, when we first met, I thought your reputation must have been greatly exaggerated.’
‘I knew we had to agree about something,’ I said, inflecting the truth like a joke, and thereby reinforcing the impression of modesty that everyone seemed to have of me.
The corners of Forres’s mouth quirked, before she hastily erased any sign of amusement. ‘They used to tell us all about you at the schola progenium,’ she said. ‘Making you out to be some kind of ideal we should aspire to.�
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‘I wouldn’t inflict that on anyone,’ I said, equally truthfully.
‘So when I met you in person,’ Forres ploughed on, ‘I suppose I was a bit disappointed. You just seemed a bit...’
‘Human?’ I suggested, and she nodded gravely. ‘We all are,’ I said. ‘Guardsmen, PDF, civilians...’ I broke off, to nod a courteous greeting to Izembard. ‘Even him, although he wouldn’t thank you for saying so. That’s what makes us strong, and assures us of victory.’
‘Yes. Well.’ Forres shrugged. ‘Just thought it needed saying, that’s all.’
‘I appreciate the thought,’ I assured her. ‘And your candour.’ Which was all the more ironic, given the rote platitudes I’d just fobbed her off with. It seemed to work anyway; she gave me a tight little smile and went off to join the Nusquans in their corner of the room.
‘Magos,’ I said, as Izembard seemed to have interpreted my greeting as a desire for conversation, and lingered in my vicinity instead of taking his own seat at the table. ‘Any developments that the rest of us should be aware of?’
‘All in due time, commissar,’ he chided. ‘The Omnissiah reveals his secrets slowly. But one aspect of our work concerns you, in a way, so I suppose you may have an interest.’
‘Me?’ I asked, feeling as bewildered as you might expect. ‘In what way?’
‘The frozen tyranids you found,’ Izembard buzzed. ‘Our preliminary estimate of the time they’ve been entombed may have been in error.’
‘Fascinating,’ I said, trying to conceal my complete indifference to the topic, although had I realised the significance of what he was saying at the time I’m sure I’d have listened with a great deal more interest. ‘How long have they been there then?’
‘Considerably longer,’ the tech-priest said. ‘Although we are still attempting a more accurate determination, they could even pre-date the asteroidal impact which formed the geology of this region.’
The Last Ditch Page 20