by Lee Lightner
Wulfric heard movement behind him. He spun, drawing his power sword. Thokar stood over him, dirt smeared across his black armour.
‘Wulfric, we have work to do. Control yourself until we can get to grips with the enemy,’ Thokar said with a half grin.
Wulfric took the moment to control his own inner beast. Relief replaced rage on his face. ‘Russ be praised. I thought we’d lost you!’
The wolf priest spoke reassuringly. ‘It will take more than Iron Warrior artillery to kill me.’
‘Uller, establish a flanking position to the east. Keep Pack Morkai in the cover of the jungle, at the clearing’s edge. Wulfric, stay with me. They will come upwind from the north,’ ordered the wolf priest. ‘Wulfric, we’re the bait.’
The surviving Space Wolves took up positions among their fallen in the ruins of the wilderness outpost, making good use of the rockcrete as cover. They waited. The jungle fell silent.
Thokar mentally reviewed his plan. Iron Warriors bombarded their enemies to soften them before an assault. When the Chaos Marines broke cover, they would open fire. In that instant, Uller and Pack Morkai would return fire from the jungle, giving Thokar, Wulfric and the survivors of Pack Ranulf the opportunity to seize the initiative and take the fight to them.
A skirmish line of iron behemoths broke from the thick jungle. Stepping into the midday sun, they wore armour from a different time and place, holy relics from ten thousand years past, now polluted with Chaos symbols and unholy markings. It sickened Thokar that these gifts of the Emperor were now bastardised tools of Chaos.
Boltgun rounds exploded around Thokar and the Wolf Guard. The few surviving chunks of Wilderness Outpost Delta blew apart, sandblasting the Space Wolves hiding in cover. Brother Sven looked up, only to catch a bolter round in his helmet. Thokar cursed the young and bold.
Pack Morkai opened fire from the jungle. The Iron Warriors paused for a fraction of a moment, confused by the attack from an unexpected quarter. That fraction of a moment was enough of a signal for the Space Wolves to charge from the ruin.
Raising his plasma pistol, Thokar exploded from behind his cover. ‘For Russ!’ he shouted. Each Space Wolf in turn added their own battle-cry to Thokar’s until ‘For Russ’ resounded above the bolter shots.
The Wolves tore into the Iron Warriors like predators on prey. Pack Morkai swiftly joined their brothers. Throughout the vastness of space, few could match the fury of a Space Wolf assault. Today, the Iron Warriors would learn this lesson. The Wolves asked no quarter and offered none. Bolt pistol rounds met ceramite and chainswords bit deep, first into armour and then into corrupted flesh. The Iron Warriors fell in droves.
Thokar briefly paused as the torn corpse of an Iron Warrior slipped from the grasp of his power fist. ‘Regroup and prepare to move….’ Thokar started, then realised that something was distinctly wrong.
‘Russ protect us!’ shouted Wulfric beside him.
Thokar knew the unmistakable scent. Whenever the Iron Priests evoked the Holy Litanies of the Machine God, they anointed their great machines with oil. Trees crashed into the clearing from the south as twin abominations charged. The Iron Warriors had flanked them!
Thokar had underestimated his foes, perhaps lulled into false security by the carnage they had encountered earlier. The Chaos Dreadnoughts roared with madness as they lumbered toward the Space Wolves. Two squads of Iron Warriors followed, spraying bolter fire as they advanced.
‘Pull back. Use the cover of the jungle,’ Thokar ordered. The wolf priest hoped that the thick foliage might neutralise the Iron Warriors’ numbers and superior firepower.
A small ball of energy cut off the withdrawal, appearing in front of the tree line. The energy pulsed once, then expanded into a sphere several feet in diameter. Lightning swirled across the sphere’s surface, then the sphere vanished with a thunderclap. Iron Warrior Terminators stood in place of the energy. As the Space Wolves paused, twin bolters and reaper autocannons sent the souls of three members of Pack Morkai to their ancestors. The Iron Warriors had them surrounded.
One of the Terminators raised a hand and the firing stopped. His armour was far more ornate than the others, decorated with longer spikes holding many skulls and the helms of a dozen Chapters of Space Marines, including the Space Wolves. Faces twisted across the surfaces of his metal armour like trapped souls trying to escape.
‘What do we have here? Pups of Leman Russ, pet dog of the False Emperor!’ the warsmith spat the words like venom. ‘You have a choice: renounce your failed Emperor or beg for a swift death!’
Before Thokar could retort, howls echoed from all around, faintly at first, then growing rapidly in volume and intensity. The warsmith paused and turned his head, trying to locate the source of the sounds.
‘Thokar, behind us!’ Wulfric warned.
Thokar glanced back at the Iron Warriors and their ancient war machines. Behind the forces of Chaos, the landscape distorted as a vortex of energy formed, flinging bolts of lightning in all directions. Shadowy figures materialised.
Immediately, one Chaos Dreadnaught collapsed. A pack with the markings of Long Fangs, the most experienced Space Wolves, poured nuclear fire into the remaining Dreadnought from meltaguns. The war machine exploded, engulfing several Iron Warriors in a blossom of destruction.
Thokar seized the moment. ‘Pack Morkai, aid our reinforcements. Wulfric, everyone else, take the Terminators. The warsmith is mine!’ he shouted, and the Space Wolves attacked.
Even as Thokar swung his power fist into a Terminator, new combatants joined the assault. A snarling mass of fangs and teeth leapt upon the enemy. The primal fury of the Wulfen amazed even the veteran wolf priest. His new allies were more beast than Space Marine, clad only in remnants of power armour. A few held weapons, but these were secondary to claws and teeth as they gouged out crimson chunks from beneath the pewter and gold Chaos Marines.
Distracted for a second, Thokar barely evaded an attack. It was the warsmith. Thokar cursed as a second blow caught him squarely in the chest, throwing him backward into a crater left from the bombardment. Pain seared through Thokar’s ribs. The warsmith loomed over the wolf priest, glaring down at him from the crater’s edge. Thokar slowly rose to his feet, growling with defiance as energy rippled from his power fist.
‘Your time is over, wolf!’ declared the warsmith.
‘Your pitiful existence is all that will end today, betrayer!’ responded the wolf priest.
The ancient warriors collided. Thokar, filled with rage, deflected or dodged every one of the warsmith’s attacks. The power fist was an ancient weapon, slow and cumbersome to wield. In lesser hands, that would have been a liability. Thokar used its weight to his advantage, holding back, luring the warsmith closer. The master of the Iron Warriors swung his power sword in a killing blow, overcome with confidence. Only as his weight shifted into the swing did he realise that Thokar had feinted, tricking him into overextending his attack. The wolf priest had an opening. His power fist only needed one. The warsmith’s helmet exploded under the impact. Victory belonged to the wolf priest.
Searing pain flooded through Thokar’s left arm. Instinctively, he ducked and twisted to his right and brought his power fist around. With a sickening crack, a Wulfen’s chest splattered.
The 13th Company survivors surrounded the remaining Space Wolves. There was no question in Thokar’s mind now as to the fate of the 13th Great Company. Their time in the Eye of Terror had unleashed the beast within. The wolf priest saw no remaining humanity in their feral yellow eyes. The Space Wolves hesitantly levelled their weapons at the Wulfen. They had all had reached same conclusion. They faced fellow Sons of Russ; they didn’t want to fire on their own. Some even lowered their weapons, apparently choosing destruction over betraying their lost brothers.
‘Hold, my brothers!’ The command came in ancient Fenrisian.
Instantly, the Wulfen submitted and withdrew to the edge of the clearing. A grizzled ancient figure, tall even by Space Wolf st
andards, with a snow-white beard hanging from a cracked, weathered face, stood at the tree line. The figure wore black armour from a time before the Great Betrayal, from the Time of Russ. He was a wolf priest.
The Wulfen disappeared into the jungle. When the last one had gone, the old priest slowly turned to face the Space Wolves.
‘Lord priest…’ Thokar began. If there were any words beyond that they were lost to him.
With a last glance to Thokar and a slight smile, the wolf priest disappeared as well. The silence within the clearing was deafening.
Thokar’s comm crackled. ‘Commissar Thaddeus Palentine at your service, Lord Chaplain. We are your relief. Is the area secure for our landing?’
‘This is Thokar, wolf priest of Russ,’ stated Thokar, efficiently introducing himself and correcting the commissar simultaneously.
‘I’m afraid we missed all the fun. Our intelligence indicates that you were horribly outnumbered,’ observed the commissar.
‘Russ was with us today,’ offered Thokar.
‘We’ve had scattered reports of bestial creatures wearing fragments of Space Marine power armour. We were hoping that maybe you and your men could shed some light on these matters,’ said Commissar Palentine.
‘Have you ever battled Chaos? They are all mindless beasts wearing power armour,’ Thokar spat. ‘We have Khorne Berserkers in the area, frenzied, skull-rending killers. This area isn’t safe for your men. We’ll handle things. Go where you are needed. The Space Wolves will handle it from here.’
‘I see…’ replied the commissar. ‘Very well.’ The comm signal died.
‘Not that I would ever challenge you, wolf priest, but I’m not sure I understand what you said to the commissar,’ Wulfric stated.
Thokar sighed. ‘I lied, Wulfric. Our brothers have returned after centuries of existence within the Eye. You saw them. They can never return to Fenris. The Great Wolf can never welcome them back. However, we can ensure that they do not become hunted, hunted by those who they set out to defend ten thousand years ago. So, I gave the commissar what he was looking for: an answer.’
As the wolf priest and Wolf Guard walked back toward the ruins of the outpost, the ancient yellow eyes of a predator tracked them.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
LEE LIGHTNER is the penname for two authors who live in Baltimore, USA. Lifelong friends, they are both avid Space Wolf fans.
A BLACK LIBRARY PUBLICATION
Originally published in issue 45 of Inferno! in 2004. This version published in 2013 by Black Library, Games Workshop Ltd., Willow Road, Nottingham, NG7 2WS, UK
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Table of Contents
Cover
Engage The Enemy - Lee Lightner
About The Author
Legal
eBook license