by Gav Thorpe
'Better save some, just in case/ Loron suggests as I grab the fourth and last canister. I toss it back and look expectantly at the door.
'You need to activate the charges/ Gudmanz tells us with a heavy sigh, forcing himself to his feet, using the wall as a support. 'Press the red activator, it sets a five-second delay. Then clear away quickly, because although most of the melta-blast is directed towards the door, there is a slight backwash/
'Kage and I will set the charges/ the Colonel says, thrusting the trolley away.
Just then there's the distinctive zing of a las-bolt against metal and Kronin gives a startled cry and pitches back from the end of the corridor, smoke rising from the scorch mark on his flak jacket, just above his heart.
'Hurry!' hisses Striden, swivelling on his haunches and firing his shotgun down the corridor. The Colonel and I glance at each other and then start stabbing at the fuse buttons. We've done just about half of them when the Colonel grabs my collar and hauls me backwards, sending us both diving to the floor. There's a wash of hot air over my back and a deafening clang as the armoured door crashes to the floor. Looking back, I see the doorway is now a ragged hole, a thin cloud of smoke hanging in the air, the walls spattered with droplets of cooling steel.
'Go!' barks the Colonel, jumping to his feet and pulling his bolt pistol free. He leaps back a moment later as a hail of las-bolts ping off the walls around us. I can hear Striden shouting something but can't make out the words over the boom of his shotgun. Loron comes running up to us, dragging the unconscious Kronin with him.
'How many behind us?' asks the Colonel, firing blind into the plasma chamber with his bolt pistol.
'Most of them, I think/ he tells us with a worried look. I check over my shoulder and see Lorii's taken up position where Kronin was, her pale face given a yellow tinge by the flare of her bolter as she fires along the main corridor.
I edge out from what's left of the bulkhead around the ruined doorway, and I can just about make out the dozen or so
Typhons stationed inside the reactor chamber, taking cover behind data terminals and coils of pipes which snake in every direction. The chamber's big, vaguely circular, or hexagonal maybe, it's hard to see the walls because of the clutter of machinery. A huge datascreen is set on to the wall at the far side, scrolling with numbers. I can't see any other doors at first glance. A fusillade of las-bolts screams towards me and I duck back quickly.
We have to get inside/ Gudmanz wheezes.
'Suggestions welcome/ I snarl back, unslinging the assault laser and unleashing a storm of lasblasts towards a head poking around a buttress jutting from a wall to my right. Peering through the door again, I see someone walk into the chamber along a metal gantry hanging five metres or so off the floor. He's dressed in the worker coveralls that seem to be so common around here, and I can see that he's got two autopistols, one in each hand, more ammo clips thrust into his belt. I give a gasp of shock as he opens fire with the pistols, spraying bullets into the back of the Typhons, cutting down half of them in the first hail of fire. As they turn and look up at this new threat, I push myself forward firing wildly with the assault laser. I can hear the Colonel's bolt pistol thundering just behind me as he follows. Las-bolts ricochet off the metal mesh of the gantry and the stranger vaults over the rail, still firing with his free hand. Caught between the attack on two fronts, the guardsmen are dead in a matter of seconds.
'Everybody in here!' Schaeffer calls out, and I look down the corridor to see Striden and Lorii running back. A Typhon appears at the far end but is sent scurrying back by a salvo of bolts from Loron.
'Our mysterious accomplice, I presume/ Lorii says, inspecting the newcomer where he stands looking down the corridor, reloading the autopistols.
'Last Chancers/ the Colonel says, waving a hand towards the stranger, 'may I introduce the man we are currently fighting for: Inquisitor Oriel.'
They seem to be holding back/ calls Loron from the gaping hole of the doorway into the plasma chamber.
Their officers are probably cursing the architects of Coritanorum at the moment/ says Inquisitor Oriel, pushing
the autopistols into the belt of his coveralls. He is clean shaven, with a narrow face, and thin black hair. He exudes an aura of calm, tinged with a hint of menace. The whole inner circle is designed to be a final bastion of defence, which works in our favour now, not theirs. It's what makes this whole mission possible/
I can see his point. The plasma chamber is octagonal, about twenty metres from wall to wall. There are a few free-standing display panels, still littered with dead Typhons, and power coils snaking from apertures in the walls to a central terminal in the wall opposite the entrance, shielded from view by a huge datascreen. The access way is four, maybe five metres wide, almost impossible to come down more than four abreast, and thirty metres long at least, a real killing zone.
'The Inquisition?' says Lorii, still dumbfounded. She's crouched next to Kronin, who's slouched against the wall, still out of it. He's barely alive, the lasblast caught him full in the chest.
'Makes sense/ I say. Who else would have the resources or authority to destroy a sector base?'
'It will not be long before they try another attack/ the Colonel tells us, calling us back to the matter in hand. 'Gudmanz, link in and start the overload. Revered inquisitor, how many ways into this chamber are there?'
'Just the main gate and the maintenance duct I came through/ he says, pointing to the gantry above our heads. That's why we can hold them off with just a handful of men/
'What about the duct?' I ask, casting a cautious glance upwards.
'I left a little surprise just outside for anyone who tries to come in that way/ he reassures me wim a grim smile.
"You've changed/ says the Colonel, glancing at the inquisitor, taking us all a bit aback. I'm surprised they've seen each other before, but then again I guess I shouldn't be. Between the inquisitor and the captain of the twins' penal battalion, I suspect the Colonel has been out and about a lot more than we realise.
'Mmm? Oh, the beard? I required a change of identity once the command staff learned who I was/ he tells us. 'It was the easiest way. That and a suitable alter-ego as a maintenance worker/
'Something's happening/ calls Loron, drawing our attention to the corridor outside. I can see some movement at the far end, heads popping into sight to check what's going on.
'Mass attack?' Lorii asks, taking up a firing position next to the gateway, the bulky bolter held across her chest.
There are no other options, it seems/ the Colonel agrees.
'Should we be building a barricade or something?' suggests Striden, thumbing more shells into the breech of his shotgun.
'One way in, one way out/ Lorii points out, jabbing a thumb back down the access corridor. "When it's time to go, we'll need to get out fast/
'I never even thought about getting out/ Striden admits, running a hand through his sweat-slicked hair. 'Getting in seemed ridiculous enough/
'You don't even have to be here!' I snap at him. 'So quit complaining/
The attack is heralded by a storm of fire along one side of the corridor, las-fire in a deadly hail that rips along the wall, impacts into the doorway and comes flaring into the plasma chamber. As we're pinned back by the covering fire, a squad of guardsmen charges up the other side of the accessway, bellowing some kind of warcry.
The Colonel and I toss a couple of frag grenades through the doorway and the warcry turns to shouts of panic. Bits of shrapnel scythe through the door as the blast fills the passage, and as the smoke clears, I look around the edge of the doorway and see the Typhons in a pile of twisted corpses, caught full by die blast as some of them tried to turn back and ran into the others behind them.
'Score one to the Last Chancers!' laughs Lorii, peeking above my shoulder for a look.
'How many do we need to win?' I ask her and she shrugs.
'Of the three and a half million people left in Coritanoru
m/ the inquisitor tells us from the other side of the doorway, 'seven hundred mousand are fully trained guardsmen. That's how many we need to score/
'Seven fraggin' hundred thousand?' I spit. 'How the frag are we supposed to get out?'
"When the plasma reactors go to overload, getting out is going to be die matter on everyone's mind, Kage/ the Colonel
answers me from beside Oriel. 'They will not be too keen to stand and fight when that happens/
'Good point, well made/ agrees Loron. The only fighting we'll be doing is over seats on the shuttle!'
'Another attack is being launched by Imperial forces on the northern walls/ the inquisitor adds. 'They have two fronts to fight on/
'What happens to our men when this place goes boom?' asks Loron.
Our banter is cut short by a succession of distinctive 'whump' noises, and five fist-sized shapes come bouncing into the plasma room.
'Fragging grenade launchers!' Lorii cries out, pushing me flat and then throwing herself across Kronin. The grenades explode, shrapnel clanging off the walls, a small piece imbedding itself in my left forearm. Another volley comes clattering in and I roll sideways, putting as much distance as I can between me and the entrance. More detonations boom in my ears and debris rings across the equipment around us.
'Are you trying to blow up the reactor?' Oriel bellows down the corridor.
There's a pause in the firing and the inquisitor looks at us and smiles.
'Well, they don't know that's what we're trying to do anyway/ he chuckles. They'll be wary of any heavy weapons fire from now on/
In the next half hour, they tried five more attacks. The bodies of more man a hundred men are piled up in the corridor now, each successive wave being slowed by the tangles of corpses to clamber across. A muffled explosion from above, just before the last attack, indicated someone trying to come in through the maintenance duct and running into the inquisitor's booby trap.
It's been quiet for the past fifteen minutes or so. Gudmanz is still plugged into the plasma reactor, face waxy and almost deathlike. He's sat there in a trance; I did wonder if he had died, but Lorii checked him and he's still breathing. Who knows what sort of private battle he's fighting with the other tech-priests inside the terminal network. We're running low on ammo, I've had to ditch the assault laser, which stopped
working during the fourth assault. I must have used up my thousand shots. I've got one of the spare bolters now, a big lump of metal that weighs heavily in my hands, a complete contrast to the lightweight lasgun that I'm used to.
'I can't see what they can try next/ says Loron.
'Oh frag,' I mutter when I realise one of the options open to them.
"What now?' the Colonel demands, casting a venomous glance at me.
'Gas/ I say shortly. 'No damage to die reactor, but we'll be dead, or asleep and defenceless/
They can't use normal gas weapons/ Oriel informs us. The ventilation of each circle is sealed to prevent an agent being introduced from the outside, but it also means that any gas will be dispersed into the surrounding corridors. It's another of the defence features working against mem/
'I've heard of short-life viruses/ Striden points out. We had a few warheads on the Emperor's Benevolence. They're only deadly for a few seconds. A base the size of Coritanorum might have something like that/
'Yes they did/ Inquisitor Oriel confirms with a grin. 'Unfortunately their stockpile seems to have been used up by someone/
The watchtower and the security room...' Lorii makes the conclusion. Very neat/
'I thought so/ the inquisitor replies, scratching an ear.
Just then, someone shouts to us along the corridor.
'Surrender your weapons and you'll be dealt with fairly!' the anonymous voice calls out. 'Plead for the Emperor's forgiveness and your deaths will be swift and painless!'
'I bet...' mutters Loron in reply.
You're the damned rebels!' Lorii shouts back. 'Ask for our forgiveness!'
That'll stir them up a bit/ Oriel comments. 'Only the command staff are the real rebels/
'So why's everyone fighting us?' I ask. 'If they're still loyal, friey could overpower the commanders easily/
'Why should they?' he retorts, shrugging lighdy.
'Because it's what someone loyal to the Emperor would do/ I reply. It seems obvious to me.
'I don't get it/ Striden adds. 'I can see Kage's point of view/
4Vhy do you think they are rebels?' asks Oriel, gazing around at us.
Well, you, the Colonel, everyone says they are/ answers Loron, nodding towards the inquisitor and Schaeffer.
'My point, exactly/ agrees Oriel with a wry smile. "You know they are rebels because you have been told they are rebels/
'And the Typhons have been told that we are the traitors/ I add, realising what Oriel is saying. 'For all we know, they could be right, but we trust the Colonel. We don't decide who the enemy is; we just follow orders and kill who we've been told to kill-'
'And so do they/ finishes Oriel, glancing back down the access tunnel.
'So that's the reason why this rebellion at the sector command is so dangerous and must be dealt with/ Loron follows on. 'If they wanted to, the command staff could convince admirals and colonels across the sector that anyone they say is the enemy. The command staff could say that any force that moved against diem was rebelling against the Emperor/
'It is one of the reasons, yes/ confirms the Colonel.
Our thoughts on the perils of the chain of command are interrupted by more las-bolts flashing through the door.
'Some of them have sneaked up through the bodies/ the Colonel tells us after a look outside. 'More are moving forward/
'Cunning bastards/ curses Lorii, kneeling beside me, bolter ready.
'Return fire!' orders the Colonel, levelling his bolt pistol through the door and firing off a couple of shots.
The firefight continued sporadically for the best part of another hour. There's no telling how many Typhons worked their way along the tunnel, skulking among the mounds of dead, almost perfectly camouflaged by the piles of uniformed corpses. I haven't fired a shot in quite a while. We're beginning to get seriously concerned about the ammunition supplies, and every bolt or las-shot has to count. The Typhons, on the other hand, are quite happy to blaze away at the first sign of one of us poking a head or gun into view.
I'm lying prone on the right hand side of the doorway, Lorii crouched over me. On the far side are the Colonel and Loron,
while Oriel and Striden are sheltering behind a panel of controls and dials almost directly opposite the entrance. A shuddering gasp from Gudmanz attracts our attention and I look back to see him staggering away from his terminal at the further side of the chamber, the neural plug whipping back into his skull.
'Have you done it?' demands the Colonel.
'Do you hear any warning klaxons, Colonel Schaeffer?' he rasps back irritably. 'I've set up blocks and traps so that the overload process can only be rectified from this room, not from another terminal/
'So how much longer?' I shout over to him.
'Not long now, but I will need some help/ he replies. The Colonel gives a nod to Striden, who rises from his hiding place, shotgun roaring. A moment after he's jumped clear the Typhons' return volley slams into the data panel, sending pieces of metal spinning in every direction. Gudmanz grabs Striden and pushes him out of sight behind the screen. My attention is snapped back to the corridor by the thump of booted feet.
They're charging!' snaps Loron, his bolter exploding into life, the small flickers of the bolt propellant flaring into the tunnel. To my left I glimpse Oriel rolling out from behind the panel, autopistol in each hand, firing into die tunnel while he rolls. As his roll takes him to his feet, he drops the pistol in his left hand and sweeps the Colonel's power sword out of its scabbard. With a yell he leaps straight at the attacking Typhons, the blue glare of the power sword reflecting off the corridor walls.
Meeti
ng the charge head on, the inquisitor drives the blade through the stomach of the first Typhon, a spin and a backhand slash opens up the throat of the next. The inquisitor ducks beneath a wild thrust of a bayonet, lopping off the Typhon's leg halfway up the thigh, arterial blood splashing across his coveralls. In a detached part of my brain I watch Oriel fighting, contrasting the fluid, dance-like quality of his movements to the precise, mechanical fighting style of the Colonel. The autopistol chatters in his right hand as he blasts another Typhon full in the face, the power sword sweeping up to рапу a lasgun being wielded as a club, its glowing edge shearing the weapon in two. Oriel bellows something that I can't quite catch over the scream of dying men and the noise of the autopistol, his face contorted with rage.
I see a Typhon rising out of a mound of corpses behind Oriel, left arm missing below the elbow, his remaining hand clutching a bayonet. Without even thinking, I pull the trigger of the bolter and a moment later the guardsman's lower back explodes, his legs crumpling under him, his spine shattered. The Typhons turn and flee from the inquisitor's wrath, the slowest pitched to the floor in two halves as Oriel strikes out once more. Las-bolts flare from the far end, kicking the corpses into jerky life again. One seems to strike Oriel full in the chest and a blinding flash of light burns my eyes. As I blink to clear the purple spots, I see Oriel still there, diving for cover over a pile of dead Typhons.
'He has the Emperor's protection/ Lorii says in an awed whisper.
Witchery!' cries Striden, eyes wide with horror.
'Or technology/ Loron adds, sounding just as scared.
'Conversion force field/ the Colonel tells us calmly as he clicks fresh bolter rounds into an empty magazine. We exchange bemused glances, none of us sure what he's talking about. Everything goes quiet again as Oriel crawls back to the door, and I can hear Gudmanz chanting a sonorous liturgy from behind me.
'And the fourth seal shall be raised, glory be to the Machine God/ he intones, voice echoing off the metal walls. And the departure of the fourth seal shall be heralded by the tone of the Machine God's joy. Now, if you please, Lieutenant Striden/