It was risky to have the Blackouts pre-armed and un-manacled, but Command had deemed it an acceptable risk. It was possible that some marines were immediately dispatched by their former comrades during botched deployments, but the hope was that enough Blackouts would be hurled into the hive ship to buy the fire teams the time they needed to search for what would soon become Grendel’s tomb.
The Blackout’s pistol roared as the warrior plunged headlong into the hive ship’s interior. Ajax dared not follow just yet, for he had no wish to die from the Blackout’s uncontrollable fury. Better to leave that for the Garm.
Ajax rushed to the other side of the APC just as Silas descended from the gun mount. They shared a nod and the two of them opened the side hatch, one pulling the lever and the other wrenching open the door.
Immediately Omar leapt into the vehicle and began marching to the other side, followed closely by Boone, then Ford. As other marines piled in, each moving across the length of the troop bay and into the hive ship, Ajax saw that Sharif was not among them.
“Sharif?” asked Ajax of Silas as the two of them fell in behind the rest of the fire team, each activating his pulse rifle and preparing for the horrors that awaited.
Silas shook his head and then went through the exit hatch.
DEATH SHIP
The marine’s boots made a wet thud as Ajax landed on the other side of the exit hatch. He immediately swung his pulse rifle to his shoulder and peered down his iron sights. The driver closed the hatch behind Ajax, as was the plan, so that he could have a better chance of still being alive should any of the members of the fire team survive long enough to need extraction. The APC itself was wedged at a steep angle inside the infantry orifice, preventing the orifice from closing. Ajax walked over the broken bodies of ripper drones left by the Blackout’s rampage and kept his rifle at the ready.
There was little known about the hive ship interiors, beyond cursory anatomical details recalled by soldiers in the field. Humanity’s warriors had halted the advance of the swarms, but done little in the way of pushing them back. However, this was not the first time Einherjar had penetrated the hive ships. During the Siege of Andropolis a full legion of marines, twenty companies strong, had advanced through the broken city streets to seize a cluster of hive ships. It was discovered they were horrific in their simplicity.
The ships themselves served as little more than giant breeding chambers for the various broods that comprised the swarm. The true complexity lay in the genetic knowledge stored in the ship’s central chamber. In each hive ship encountered to date, the central chamber held a massive pool of raw genetic material suspended in a sort of amniotic fluid which was pumped by massive organs into a vast circulatory system that fed the various breeding chambers.
The hive ships were merely one part of the hive mind’s arsenal of bio-forms. The spaceborne vessels that prowled the void were far more complex. The hive ships, for the most part, were classified by Command, and used by the extinction fleets as mobile fortress organisms that could generate their own troop forces. They relied upon the initial few swarms to harvest enough useable organic material to feed the breeding chambers and to pump out wave after wave of hostile alien lifeforms.
The level of fighting involved in trying to seize a hive ship inevitably left the enemy fortress so badly damaged it would perish in the battle and be unrecoverable. As with the greater Garm war, scientific study of the enemy was a haphazard affair, usually done in battlefield conditions, and the intelligence such activities yielded was inconsistent in its quality and usefulness.
Ajax and the marines followed in the Blackout’s wake of destruction, but he did seem to be slowing down. The hallway they ran through was actually more like an umbilical cord than anything else, undulating awkwardly as if even the floors and walls sought to eject the interlopers.
The Blackout had carved and blasted his way through a swarm of ripper drones, his pistol taking full advantage of the narrow passageway, not unlike the trenches such warriors typically fought among. Soon the passage widened to reveal a massive breeding chamber, with scores of slimy chords snaking through the air, making the entire chamber appear to be something like a jungle made of fleshy vines. From the cords, like so many abominable fruits, hung sacks bulging with amniotic fluids and embryonic ripper drones in various stages of growth.
From where he stood Ajax could see that as the embryos grew they weighed the vines down until the sacks burst apart on the rough floor of the chamber. As they watched, a long vine did just that, and five embryo sacks were torn open, fully formed ripper drones bursting from the tattered remains, screaming.
It struck him as odd that as quickly as the hive ships could breed the swarms, there should have been a stronger defensive force to meet the forces of humanity upon the field. Yet, as he watched the five rippers rush towards him, he realized that the hive was spawning troops as fast as it could, hurling them against the marines in smaller waves as they were born instead of marshalling a larger swarm of real strength.
The hive ship was desperate, defending itself like a cornered animal would, much of its former cunning tactics gone.
The Blackout launched himself into the oncoming drones, his empty pistol falling to the ground so that he could swing his massive blade with both hands. In the blink of an eye, two rippers were in pieces at his feet.
As the remaining combatants tore each other to pieces, Ajax noticed that these beasts, too, resembled the new breed he and the others had seen on the way to the rally point.
Boone moved to fire his grenade launcher, but before he could raise it, Omar put a hand on the man’s shoulder.
“Hold you fire, marine,” said Omar in a tone that allowed for no argument. “Slaughter is not our mission. First, we find Grendel.”
“Then I’ll just kill ‘em on the way back out,” grumbled Boone as he shrugged off Omar’s hand.
The skald did not react to the clear challenge, instead, he turned and began marching quickly down the ridged flesh of the passageway, that looked for all the world, like stairs in the spongy body of the ship.
Ajax and the others followed in silence, stepping respectfully around the ragged corpse of the Blackout, the warrior having died in the slaying of all his opponents. It took every ounce of discipline in Ajax not to take the opportunity to gun down the unprotected embryos that hung so near him.
Boone vented his frustrations on a drone that hatched just a few steps behind him. The beast was born only to die seconds later as the grenadier’s pistol punched two neat holes in its skull.
Over the wet biological sounds being made by the ship itself, the marines could hear the muffled report of other fire teams fighting their way through the ship.
Ajax had no idea how long Armor One could hold back the other swarms, so they had to move quickly. Omar motioned for Ajax to join him at the slick membrane that divided the ripper drone breeding chamber from the network of passageways presumably leading off to other breeding chambers.
“We were lucky to have entered the ripper’s chamber, other fire teams no doubt found themselves assaulting the birthplace of much more fearsome beasts. We must make haste,” observed Omar, before turning to Ajax and standing face to face with him, “You take point, Ajax. Considering your relationship with the beast, I have a feeling that you will know where it hides. Let your instincts be a guide.”
“Relationship?” asked Silas as he and Boone exchanged worried looks.
“Something we don’t know, Ajax?” asked Yao, stepping up directly behind the pair of warriors at the membrane barrier.
“No secrets between brothers,” said Boone, his voice carrying a hard edge. “What are we really doing here, skald?”
“There are confidential elements about this mission, gentlemen,” answered Omar, turning and facing the men, taking care to keep his weapon pointed at the deck. “Ajax was sworn to silence by Skald Thatcher and Jarl Mahora, himself, in order to maintain the integrity of the mission.”
&n
bsp; “I’ve encountered Grendel in my resurrection dreams ever since it killed me, after the first assault on Trench 16,” Ajax said suddenly, ignoring the angry look from Omar as he confessed to his battle brothers. “The skalds think that the beast and I share some kind of psychic link, it’s how we found the hive ships through all the atmospheric interference.”
“So what? That’s no stranger than anything else we’ve encountered,” responded Ford, “Why lie about that?”
“Comrades,” Omar finally said, after a deep breath, “This monster has found a way to functionally kill us permanently. He looked at each man in turn as the implications of his statement sank in. “The Watchman cannot resurrect without dying moments after he is brought online, same for Skald Thatcher, the jarl of Manticore Company, and dozens of other Einherjar. We must find this thing, subdue it, and get it off planet for analysis. Command believes that Heorot was a proving ground for this beast, that this entire campaign has been an alien weapon’s test, and if we cannot stop its evolution here, then such bio-forms may begin to appear on the prime battlefront.”
The marines stood in silence for a moment, the betrayal of their trust by command resting heavy upon all their shoulders, and then Boone spoke.
“For Andropolis,” growled the man as he thumbed off the safety on his grenade launcher, “If this dumb grunt’s brain can give us an edge, let’s fraking use it.” Boone gave Ajax a shove.
“For Tarsis Prime,” added Ford, a grim smile spreading across his face.
“For Ulanti,” chimed in Silas and Yao simultaneously.
“For Basepholon,” nodded Omar, and then he gave Ajax the signal to proceed.
The marine plunged through the thick mucus membrane that separated the breeding chamber from the passage network and immediately his senses were assaulted by a flood of information.
Marines were fighting Garm organisms in three directions ahead of Ajax, as the membrane opened to reveal three different passages. Ajax was certain that the one to his left would lead him closer to his nemesis, and he ran in that direction, holding his rifle to his shoulder and adding his firepower to the blistering combat ahead.
Rounds tore through the walls of the ship and the body of a gorehound as Ajax and his team joined with another unit. They were from Manticore Company, and only three of them had survived their journey through the gorehound breeding chamber. As Ajax and Omar marched over the bodies of the freshly slain, the other marines were compelled to follow them, buoyed by the confident purpose with which they strode.
Ajax tried to do as Omar had suggested and he strained to hear the faint and alien psychic whispers in his mind. He could not fathom exactly how he was doing it, but the more he focused on his imagination’s impression of the Garm cells in his body, the more confident he was in the direction he was going. His awareness began to narrow as he plowed through the hive ship, his marine’s discipline taking over his body.
Ajax was barely aware of the vicious fighting his body was engaged in, the recoil of his pulse rifle little more than a tapping on the edge of his consciousness.
Now that he was in Grendel’s realm and intentionally open to the beast’s presence in his mind, Ajax found that his awareness of it was almost suffocating. As he moved, his reality became indistinguishable from the resurrection dream, with everything taking on a fluid out-of-time-and-space quality. The only sure thing in his awareness was that he moved here, turned there, climbed this, and swam through that to pass into the central chamber.
And there it was, Grendel, the hideous ravager itself, coiled at the base of a vast pool of raw genetic fluid, as if it was bathing in it. The proboscis was nearly fully regenerated and Ajax realized that the creature had indeed retreated to the chamber to nurse its wounds.
The psychic presence of the hive mind, or at least what Grendel channeled through itself, was devastating. Ajax was forced to his knees by the impact of it, for no human mind was meant to cope with the vast nuance of Garm communication. His nose was bleeding and his ears were ringing, and Ajax realized how awful it must have been for the Watchman or Skald Thatcher when they first resurrected after having their minds stolen by Grendel. The sound of marines shouting and firing their weapons seemed lightyears away from him, and yet he felt as if he must cling to those distant sounds to prevent from drowning beneath the psychic waves.
It wasn’t until Grendel screamed for aid and the UltraGarm tore through the walls of flesh that Ajax jerked himself free from the mental whirlpool.
The gigantic beast used its scything blades to rip through the thin walls of flesh that separated the central chamber from whatever passage or area the UltraGarm had been lurking. The hive ship shuddered from the grievous damage dealt to it by its own brood. The ground beneath Ajax heaved and the marine was thrown to the ground then scrambled to his feet as the sounds of battle came flooding into his now freshly acute senses.
Marines and Garm organisms were flooding into the chamber from multiple entrances and tearing into each other with apocalyptic ferocity. Ajax caught sight of the UltraGarm cleaving Yao and Silas into bloody chunks with its sweeping blades before Boone attacked it with his grenade launcher. Omar and Ford were fighting back to back as they kept ripper drones from pouncing on Ajax.
“Do what you must, marine!” screamed Omar, and Ajax gathered his legs beneath him, “We are with you!”
Ajax sprinted across the central chamber, ignoring the carnage all around him as he rushed straight at Grendel. He was dimly aware of other marines running with him, but his singular focus was upon the enemy and he paid them little mind.
A ripper drone attempted to block his way and was pulverized by rounds from someone’s pulse rifle as the marine sped onwards. Enemies fell before him as Ajax and his comrades charged the objective, mowing down all resistance even as many of those who ran with Ajax fell behind, either slain or caught up in the fighting.
Ajax locked eyes with Grendel. Instantly, he realized that the city he’d seen in ruins during his resurrection dream wasn’t something from his memory, but from Grendel’s. There was rage in those black eyes, there was individual awareness beyond the hive mentality of the Garm. There was a sense of Grendel’s personal ambition lurking amidst the chaos of the hive’s endless hunger.
Grendel uncoiled swiftly, spitting a spine projectile at Ajax, only to be denied its kill as Omar hurled himself in front of the deadly round. The skald went down hard as Ajax started firing at the beast’s tail and mid-section. Ford added his fire to the attack, and between the two of them they pulped much of Grendel’s lower body. The beast had been horribly wounded in the fight for District 10, and only marginally healed before this battle took its toll.
Grendel screamed again, a mixture of pain, rage, and this time, fear. It spat another spine round, this time spearing Ford through the chest and sending the marine spiraling away as Boone joined Ajax, his pistol at the ready.
The two marines leapt across the pool of liquid and slammed into the beast, firing as they went and driving the creature to the ground. Flailing blades sheared away flesh and armor as the wounded beast fought for survival, all cunning gone from its demeanor. Ajax didn’t know when he had started screaming, though as Boone and Ajax both attacked the beast they pushed their vocal chords to the limit with primal rage.
His pulse rifle was gone, and in its place, was his trench spike. Ajax shove the point of it under the base of Grendel’s neck and wrenched the blade, working it back and forth and stabbing repeatedly. Grendel tried to spit another spine round, but missed despite the close range, and soon it could do nothing but bleed.
Ajax roared as he used his entire body for leverage and with a mighty surge of strength that came close to madness he managed to tear Grendel’s head from its body.
He rolled onto his back and saw that he had been hideously wounded, while Boone lay still in a spreading pool of his own blood.
Omar appeared in Ajax’s hazy sight, the skald having clipped part of the spine that impaled him awa
y so that he could move, though it was still firmly lodged in his body. The skald was moving on stimulants alone, that much Ajax could tell as the commando injected both himself and Ajax with heroic doses of painkillers and combat stims.
“The head, we have to get the head back to Mobile Command,” Omar shouted at Ajax, and the wounded marine nodded and tried to stand. He gathered the slimy remains of Grendel in his arms.
And they ran.
It was miles back to the extraction point, and that was assuming the swarms of the other hive ships didn’t tear them apart before they reached it. Even if they did, would the walls hold for long enough?
This fight was far from done.
It was a running battle through the raw mess of the hive ship’s inner chambers, and it was all that Ajax could do to maintain his grip on Grendel’s massive skull. Men and beasts died all around him, and he was only marginally aware of it. All his thoughts, clouded by the combat drugs and grievous wounds he’d suffered, were bent towards reaching the exit, any exit.
He knew that the men who fell here would not remember what happened unless their torcs were recovered. It was standard battlefield procedure to recover them from corpses whenever there was a chance, but here, in this desperate chaos, there was little hope of that.
Someone ran next to him, firing his pulse rifle to clear the way of ripper drones and as the last one was blown apart, Ajax could see one of the APCs wedged into the aperture of a deployment tunnel leading out of whatever ravaged breeding chamber through which he and the surviving marines now fled.
Roars of ravenous beasts filled the space behind him, drowning out the sporadic gunfire of those marines who had attempted to escort Ajax out of the belly of the ship. He dared not look behind him for fear that he would find too few marines at his back to hold the horde at bay.
The unique sound of a sniper rifle cut through the din and Ajax saw that Hart had taken up a position on top of the APC. The sniper was working the action of his rifle with superhuman speed, aiming and firing nearly as fast as a marine could with a pulse rifle.
Extinction Fleet 1: Space Marine Ajax Page 12