13th Legion

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13th Legion Page 12

by Gav Thorpe


  Watching the cruiser forging her way towards the eldar, I feel a sense of security. Surely nothing could stand up to the atten­tions of that gigantic engine of destruction. The Navy may have some strange ideas about strategy and defence, but you have to hand it to them, they know a hell of a lot about firepower. Their anti-ordnance defence turrets have weapons larger than those carried on Titans, their barrels over ten metres long, dozens of the point-defences studding the hull of a ship the size of a cruiser. Their broadsides vary, sometimes they have huge plasma cannons capable of incinerating cities, other times it's mass drivers that can pound metal and rock into oblivion. Short-ranged missile batteries can obliterate a smaller foe in a matter of minutes, while high-energy lasers, which Jamieson tells me are called lances, can shear through three metres of the toughest armour with one devastating shot. Most cruisers carry huge torpedoes as well, loaded with multiple warheads charged with volatile plasma bombs, carrying the

  power to unleash the energy of a small star on the enemy. It makes my humble laspistol look like spit in an ocean. More like a hundred oceans, actually.

  When the Justice of Terra becomes nothing more than another spark in the distant battle, we begin to lose interest. There's the flickering of gunfire, but from several thousand kilometres away, it's hard to see anything really happening. I'm sure up on the gun decks and on the bridge they've got ocular sensors and stuff that allows them to have a better view, but down here it's just an incredibly distant and faint light show.

  'Okay/ I tell the men as they begin to wander away from the window gallery, 'let's finish loading the Chimeras/

  We have three of the Chimeras on board one of the dropships and are getting ready to take another two onto the other when the ratings start hurrying around us, a sudden panic stirring them into activity. I grab a warrant officer by the arm as he tries to dash past.

  'What's going on?' I demand, looking at the naval men as they converge on the lockers at the rear of the shuttle bay.

  We've got the order to prepare for boarders/ he tells me, pulling my hand off his arm with a snarl. 'One of the eldar pirates has doubled back and is coming straight for us. They lured the cruiser away and now we're on our own. Look!' He points out of the windows and I see a swirling shape approach­ing us speedily. I can't see the ship clearly, it's defended by what we call holo-fields, which twist and bend light so you can't see the exact location and sends augurs and surveyors haywire. Another example of the infernal witchcraft the eldar use in their weapons and machines.

  I'm about to ask somebody to get in contact with the Colonel when I see him walking through the blast doors at the far end of the shuttle bay. He glances out of the windows as I hurry over to him.

  'We need to get armed, sir/ I tell him. They're expecting a boarding action/

  'I know/ he replies turning his attention to me. I see he has his power sword hanging in its scabbard from his belt, and a holster on his other hip for his bolt pistol. 'I have informed the armsmen. They will issue you with weapons when they have finished assembling the naval parties/

  'Where should we be, sir?' I ask as we walk back towards the platoon. The Navy boys seem to know what they're doing. Where can we help out?'

  You are right. They can manage without us interfering,' he agrees, pulling his bolt pistol out and cocking the safety off. *We shall act as a reserve, behind the Navy teams. If they look like they are faltering, we will advance and support them/

  That seems sensible. I'm all for staying behind the ratings and armsmen. After all, they're the ones trained for this sort of thing, in short-range firefights and close melee, and they've got the heavy duty armour to keep them safe in that sort of scrap. While we're waiting for the armsmen to dish out the weapons, I order the dropships secured, more to keep the men busy than because of any fears that having them open will help the eldar.

  We're just finishing that when the armsmen bring over a trol­ley of weapons. They start handing out shotguns and shell bandoleers to everyone. I grab one and sling it over my shoul­der and then snatch a bundle of electro-gaffs, calling over the squad sergeants to take one each and keeping one for myself. Looking back out of the windows I can see fire from our measly batteries flaring towards the miasma of colour that is the eldar ship. It doesn't seem to be damaged at all; it changes course to come alongside us, slowing its speed to match ours.

  The whole ship shudders violently as the captain orders eva­sive manoeuvres and retro-jets spring into life, cutting our speed suddenly and hurling us sideways. This gives us a respite for only half a minute or so before a livid purple stream of energy pours out of the cloud of shifting colours, striking us somewhere near the aft section and causing the ship to tremble under detonations.

  They have disabled the engines/ the Colonel says from beside me, his face grim as ever. 'Now mey will board/

  I see smaller shapes detach themselves from the multi­coloured fog, heading towards us. They must be using assault boats, I deduce. I can see half a dozen of them, and they seem to be heading straight for us. I think it must be an illusion but then I perceive that they are actually heading straight for us. They grow larger and larger in the windows and I hear the clat­tering of boots on the metal decking as more men pour into the shuttle bay from the surrounding areas of the ship. I push half a dozen cartridges into the chamber of the shotgun and

  pump them ready to fire. Holding the electro-gaff under my left arm, I herd the platoon back towards the wall, away from the windows and launch doors.

  'Wait for the Colonel's order and follow my lead!' I shout out to them. I see a few of them glancing around, looking to see if there's an opportunity to get away, but as I follow their gazes I see that the doors have all been shut again. Glancing overhead I notice a trio of Navy officers in the control tower, looking out through the massive plate windows at their men below.

  "They're here!' I hear someone bellowing from the front of the bay. I can see the sleek, menacing shapes of the assault boats dropping down past the windows, each patterned in strange, flowing stripes of black purple and red. A few seconds later, patches of the walls to either side of the launch doors glow blue as the assault boats use some kind of energy field to burn their way through. With an explosion of light the first breach is made to my right, throwing sparks and debris onto the decking. Almost at once other detonations flare to my left and right and the Navy parties begin to open fire, the thunder of their shotguns resounding around the large chamber. The flare of gunfire flickers across my vision, joined by the odd burst of light from a lascannon or something similar.

  From where I am I can't see anything of our attackers, but I can see men being hurled to the floor by blasts of dark energy, or torn to shreds by hails of fire. Right in front of me I see a pulsing star of blackness burst through die Navy ranks, smash­ing through a handful of men, tossing their charred bodies into die air and flinging severed limbs and heads in all directions. Everybody seems to be shouting at once, adding to the cacoph­ony of die gunfire. Hoarse screams of agony or panic echo off the walls and die clatter of spent shell cases rings from the decking. The air stinks widi the cordite from two hundred shot­guns, the stench of burnt flesh and abattoir smell of dismembered and decapitated bodies. As I glance around try­ing to work out what the hell is going on, everything is in anarchy, flashes of lasfire mixing in with the bark of shotguns and the shrill, whickering noise from the eldar's splinter rifles and cannons.

  It's impossible to see how many we're facing, or whether we're holding them back or not. I can see mounds of dead

  everywhere, men crawling away holding onto mutilated limbs or clasping wounds on their bodies and heads. Another explo­sion rocks the grates of the decking, a fireball blossoms far to my left where a generator or something goes up. Shots are whisding overhead now, impacting on the ironwork of the con­trol tower support, hissing and bubbling as mey melt through the girders holding the control room a dozen metres above the deck. A shutde to my right bursts into a huge firebal
l, a hail of shrapnel scything through the men around it, cutting them down widi a cloud of sharp-edged debris.

  'It is time/ the Colonel says, stepping forward, the pulsing blue of his power swoid illuminating his face from beneath. He nods his head towards the right where I can just see the first alien warriors through die diinned ranks of the Navy ratings and armsmen. The/re wearing armour striped in the same colours as rneir attack ships. Their armour is plated and cov­ered in blades and spikes, which glisten in the erratic light of the firelight. They stand about a head taller than the men around diem, but are slim to the point of being emaciated. They move widi a graceful, flowing motion mat seems entirely effortless. With a speed that the most hardened human fighter would find difficult to match, I see them cutting left and right with close combat weapons made of exotic blades and barbed whips. A man's head spins to the ground as one of them tears through his throat with a backhand slash from its sword, before turning on its heel to plunge the blade through the stomach of another Navy man. There's an aura of malice about them, a rathlessness betrayed by the odd shrill laugh or extrav­agant gesture.

  There's a moment when the aliens in front of us stand on their own, about two dozen of them, widi dead and dying Navy men littering the deck around their feet. Without any order being needed everybody opens fire at once, the heat from the volley washing over me and causing sweat to jump out of my skin. I pump the shotgun and fire again, the haft of my gaff wedged between the top of die breach and under my arm, and I see one of the eldar thrown back by the impart, bright blood spattering into the air. To our left, more come leaping towards us, easily cutting through die few men in meir path.

  There's a thudding of booted feet to our right and a squad of armsmen rush up and join us.

  They're breaking through towards the main corridor!' their petty officer screams, gesturing towards the far end of the bay with his assault shotgun. His visor is pushed back and I see his hate-filled snarl as he opens up with the shotgun, a dozen shots crashing dirough the approaching eldar in the space of a few seconds. Pulling the dram magazine from die shotgun and flinging it aside, he leads his men past us. I see Donalson lead­ing his squad after them, and I let them go. The Colonel stands to my left, power sword in one hand, bolt pistol levelled at the enemy in the other.

  'Fighting withdrawal to the command tower/ he snaps over his shoulder at me before firing a burst of rounds into the eldar as they head towards us.

  'Fall back by squads!' I bellow over the din of the fighting. 'Jorett and Command squad up front!' I see the odier men falling back towards the rear of the bay as I kneel to slam another six shells into the shotgun. Getting to my feet again I see the other Last Chancers are in position and I begin to walk backwards, firing round after round from the shotgun, the other squad's covering fire blasting past me into the aliens. The dead are heaped everywhere now, ours and theirs, bloodied body parts scattered across the metal decking, the deep crim­son of human blood mixing with the brighter red of alien life fluid. I can't tell how many of them are left, but as I pull back past the other squad I can see that fighting is still raging fiercely to my left as the eldar attempt to break through die main doors and into the ship's interior.

  'If they get out, diey have an almost direct route to the bridge/ me Colonel informs me as he ejects the magazine on his bolt pistol and slides anotfier into place. 'We must stop them getting out of the shutde bay/

  Glancing over my shoulder I see diat we're at die steps to the command tower now. You can follow the trail of our retreat, five dead Last Chancers lie among more than two dozen alien bodies and a swathe of shotgun cases and bolt pistol cartridges litters die floor. A few eldar manage to dart through our fusil­lade, almost naked except for a few pieces of bladed red armour strapped across vital body parts. Almost skipping widi light steps, they duck left and right with unnatural speed. In their hands mey hold vicious-looking whips and two-bladed dag­gers that drip widi some kind of venom that smokes as it drops

  to the metal decking. Their fierce grins show exquisitely white teeth as they close for the kill, their bright oval eyes burning with unholy passion.

  The Colonel counter-attacks, followed by Loron and Lorii. Schaeffer ducks beneath a venomed blade and opens fire with his bolt pistol, blasting the face of his attacker. Loron spins on his heel to send the butt of his shotgun crashing into the midriff of another, grabbing the gun double-handed and bring­ing the muzzle up into the alien's face, snapping its neck with die blow. Lorii side-steps between two of them, weaving to her right as one makes a lunge at her, grabbing the female eldar's arm and whipping it around, sending die slender creature tum­bling into the blade of its comrade. One-handed, she fires the shotgun into the stomach of anotiier, spraying shredded entrails across her white skin, dying her hair with bright red blood.

  'Get the men to the control tower/ the Colonel orders me, bounding past me up the metal steps. The aliens continue to fire as we hurry up the open stairwell, cutting down two men from Slavini's squad and pitching them over the railing. I see the sergeant turn around and push his squad back down a few steps, returning fire to hold back the aliens as they race across the open deck towards us. My breath explodes out of my moudi in ragged gasps as I pound up the spiral stairs, forcing my aching legs to keep going, pushing at the back of Franx in front of me to keep him moving. Below us I can see mat the eldar have almost reached the main gateway. Only a couple of dozen armsmen stand between them and the locked doorway.

  It's with a sense of enormous relief that I tumble through the door of the control room, other men piling after me and pitch­ing me onto the floor. The Colonel grabs me by the shoulder of my flak jacket and hauls me to my feet.

  'Seal that/ he tells someone behind me, using his spare hand to point over my shoulder at the control room door. The door closes with a hiss of air and a dull thud. Three dazed naval offi­cers stand looking at us with a mixture of surprise and horror.

  'How do you blow the launch doors?' the Colonel demands, letting go of me and stepping up to the nearest one.

  'Blow the doors? There's men still fighting down there!' the officer responds, his face a mask of horror.

  "They will be dead soon anyway/ the Colonel snarls grimly, pushing the man to one side and stepping up to the next. 'The doors, lieutenant?'

  You can't just flick a switch/ he tells us. The crank wheel on the back wall is the gateway pressure release valve.' He points to a wheel about three metres across, with twenty spokes. It's con­nected by a huge chain to a massive series of gears that disappear into the ceiling. 'It's locked into the barring mecha­nism that keeps the doors shut. Open up the valves and the internal pressure within the bay will blow the doors out com­pletely. This tower is on a separate system, it should be able to maintain pressure balance/

  'Do it!' the Colonel hisses at us over his shoulder, before looking back out at the shuttle bay.

  'Slavini and Donalson's squads are still out there!' I argue, a lump in my throat. You can't order me to kill my own men/

  'I am giving you a direct order, Lieutenant Kage/ he says as he turns to me, his voice very low, his eyes glittering dangerously. "We are all dead if they reach the bridge/

  'I... I can't do it sir/ I plead, thinking of Slavini and his men going back to hold off the Eldar to make sure we got up here.

  'Do it now, Lieutenant Kage/ Schaeffer whispers, leaning very close, right in front of my face, those eyes lasering their way through mine into my brain. I flinch under that terrible gaze.

  'Okay, everyone grab a spoke at the wheel!' I call out to the others, turning away from the Colonel's murderous stare. They start to argue but I soon shut them up, using the butt of my shotgun to smash Kordinara across the jaw when he starts shouting obscenities at me.

  'Maintain discipline, Kage/ barks Schaeffer from behind me.

  You have five seconds to turn that wheel before I shoot you myself/ I growl at them, wondering if my eyes are filled with the same psychopathic glare I'd just seen in t
he Colonel's.

  Without a further word ttiey hurl themselves at the valve wheel. It creaks and grinds as mey turn it; on a panel above their heads the needles on the dials begin to drop. With a sud­den release of tension the wheel spins rapidly, throwing them to the floor in all directions. As they get to their feet an omi­nous creaking noise resounds around us. I look back out of the window and see the launch doors beginning to buckle under the strain. The huge doors, three metres thick, give way witti a

  loud screeching, each one weighing several tons, ripped off their massive hinges and flung into the darkness. All hell breaks loose on the shuttle bay deck as shuttles, dropships, Chimeras, men and eldar are sucked into the air by the escap­ing atmosphere.

  Men are whirled everywhere. Someone who looks like Slavini bounces off the hull of a spinning shuttle, his blood spraying wildly and violently from his face in the low pressure, sucking the life out of him in an instant. I can't hear their screams over the wild rushing of wind, a howling gale tearing around the shuttle bay throwing men and machines into obliv­ion. It's one of the most horrific sights I've ever seen, seeing everything rushing out of the jagged gap in the far wall, pitch­ing them into the vacuum to a horrible death. Ice begins to form on the outside of the control tower, frosting over the glass, condensation from our breath beading quickly on the inside. I give a worried glance at the Navy officers, but they're staring in a horrified fashion at the carnage in the shuttle bay. I hear several of the Last Chancers behind me swearing and cursing. I look at the Colonel and he's stood there, totally immobile, watching the destruction outside with no sign of any emotion.

 

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