'We'll have to get past them,' she whispered. I nodded. Not an appealing prospect, by any means, but one we would have to attempt. If we kept to the cover of the pillars and the other detritus, we might just make it, at least most of the way, before we were spotted. When that happened we'd just have to make a run for the stairs as best we could.
As we moved off, I glanced around again, more by reflex than anything, trying to fix a sense of the space in my mind - disorientation can be a killer in a fire-fight. And then it struck me.
'This is a shrine/ I murmured. Amberley didn't seem in the least surprised, but then I suppose she'd realised that the moment we'd walked in here.
There were tapestries on the walls, which, now I came to look at them, I found myself recoiling from
in horror. Blasphemous things they were, holy images of the Emperor profaned and debased, the Father of All depicted as a hunched hybrid with too many arms, or a monstrous purestrain 'stealer which seemed to tower over its adoring acolytes. I resolved to send a squad down here with flamers the moment we reported back. It seemed almost intolerable to me that such things should be allowed to exist.
'Ready?' Amberley asked at my shoulder, and I nodded, making the sign of the aquila for luck. My pistol was already in my hand, as I've said, and I drew my chainsword quietly with the other, thumb poised over the activator. Amberley drew her bolt pistol, checked that the first round was chambered, and nodded grimly. 'Right. Go.' We scuttled as far as the next pillar and went to ground again, my heart pounding in my ears. I was acutely aware of the background noise now, the sound I'd noticed in the corridor; the hum of activity as the cultists moved to and fro, but in eerie silence, as they had done in the chamber full of machinery.
Praise the Emperor, none of them had spotted us. We moved again, making it to the shelter of the next column, and then on to the one after that. I was just beginning to hope that we would make it all the way to the stairs, and whatever lay beyond, when the crack of a las-bolt against the stonework close to my head told me we'd been spotted.
I turned, in time to see the palace guard levelling his lasgun for another shot, and brought up my pistol, but Amberley was faster and her bolt pistol spat
first. His chest exploded in a rain of red entrails and shredded gold armour, and before you know it we were in the middle of a serious firefight. Two more armed cultists appeared, attempting to catch us in a crossfire, and we took one each; another chest shot for Amberley, and a head shot for me, blowing the fellow's brains out through the back of his skull.
'Showoff!' Amberley grinned at me, and I didn't have the heart to tell her it had been a fluke. I'd aimed for the chest as well, and he'd ducked at just the right moment. More shots were being aimed at us from behind other pillars, but they were as well protected as we were, and our return fire had little effect beyond persuading them to keep their heads down. 'Looks like a standoff. What'll they do now?'
'Rush us/ I said, not relishing the prospect. Sure enough, a moment later we could discern a scuttling in the shadows, and my heart fell. 'Merciful Emperor, it's purestrains!' A swarm of them, about a dozen strong, was hurrying towards us across the stone floor of the vault. A couple went down to our bolts and las-shots, more by luck than judgment, I suspect, and in another moment I knew they'd be on us. I gripped my chainsword, determined to fend them off for as long as I could, clinging to the last desperate hope that I could somehow cut my way through to the stairwell, which right then looked about half the segmentum away.
Suddenly, an explosion rocked their ranks, then a couple more. Dazed and uncomprehending I glanced upwards, expecting I knew not what, perhaps the
Emperor himself since only divine intervention looked like saving us now. What I saw was almost as unexpected; the familiar shambling form of Jurgen, even grubbier than usual, lobbing frag grenades over the balustrade of the gallery. A small explosion of joy and relief shook my chest, and I grabbed Amberley's arm.
'Look!' She glanced up and nodded, as though she'd half expected something of the sort, and stood.
'Time to run/ she said, cool as you please. She headed for the stairs, and I followed, waving an acknowledgement to Jurgen. He waved back, grinning, and chucked another grenade into the milling mass of'stealers for luck. Most of them were down by now, leaking foul-smelling ichor, but one was up and running, inhumanly fast, heading straight for Amberley.
'Amberley!' I shouted, and she half turned towards it, but I could see the warning had come too late. Her bolt pistol would never come up to aim in time, and I was too far away to intervene. The claws I'd seen tear open Terminator armour as though it were a crusty meat pie were already slicing at her cape when its head exploded, showering her with an unpleasant organic residue, and leaving the body to topple to the floor. I looked up at the gallery again and saw Sorel already seeking a fresh target for his long-las.
'Emperor be praised!' I breathed, my head still reeling with incomprehension, but grateful for this apparent miracle. I should have known better, of course; that moment of distraction almost cost me
my life, and surely would have done if Jurgen hadn't shouted a warning.
'Commissar! Behind you!'
I turned, expecting another foe to be charging in, and swung the chainsword in a reflexive defensive pattern. That surely saved my life, for instead of a cultist or a purestrain, which would have been bad enough, I came face to face with a creature from the worst of nightmares. (Or, to be more accurate, face to belly, as it was at least twice the height of a man.) It was a twisted, grotesque, vast, bloated parody of a genestealer, and the whining blade bit deep into the arm which would surely have ripped my head off if it hadn't been for Jurgen's shouted warning. It howled then, in anger and pain, and I was fighting desperately for my life.
'It's the patriarch!' Amberley yelled, as though I didn't know; from the comer of my eye, I could see her levelling the bolt pistol, waiting for an opening, but I was blocking her shot. I tried to twist out of the way, leaving room for her to aim, but the flailing multiple limbs of my bloated antagonist had me boxed in, and it was all I could do to keep parrying frantically with the chainsword as it swung one talon-tipped arm after another at me. This, then, was the source of the cancer which had infected Gravalax, the centre of the brood mind which the cultists shared, the instrument of the will of the tyranid overmind which had sought to devour the sector unopposed by playing us off against the tau.
'Die, damn you!' I tried to bring my pistol to bear, but couldn't spare the concentration from the more urgent requirement to stay alive for the next few seconds, my entire attention on ducking, blocking, searching for an opening-
Amberley's bolt pistol barked at last, and for an instant I thought I was saved, but the patriarch fought on unharmed, and I realised she was keeping the cultists off my back. They were swarming out of the shadows now, desperate to help their sire, and closing fast. The only mercy was that the ones with guns couldn't use them, for fear of hitting the monster I battled.
Sorel had no such inhibitions, however; a chunk of chitin on the creature's head suddenly burst into bloody fragments, and it roared again, but barely staggered, its natural armour proof against a conventional las-bolt. It was momentarily distracted, though, and I was able to get a good cut across its belly at last. It staggered, thick, foul-smelling ichor beginning to leak from the wound, then came at me again with renewed fury. Seeing that the creature was invulnerable Sorel switched his aim, and began taking down the cultists who were trying to get to me, while Amberley continued to do the same.
'Hold on, commissar!' Jurgen was running down the stairs, his melta readied, and I prayed to the Emperor that he wasn't going to try a shot from there as I'd never survive it. But he had more sense than that, at least.
'Sorel!' Amberley called. 'Clear a path for Jurgen!' The two of them began to concentrate their fire on
the cultists between my aide and the desperate battle I still fought. I sprang back a fraction too late and felt talons scrape m
y ribs, ripping through the armour beneath my coat and burning like fire. I swore, and struck back at the thing, taking the hand which had wounded me off at the wrist. Ichor pumped from it like a fire hose, spraying me and everything else in the vicinity, and if anything, it redoubled its efforts.
I turned my head reflexively, trying to keep my eyes clear, and thus got a clear view of Jurgen as he raced across the floor towards me. For a heart stopping instant, I thought a couple of purestrains were about to eviscerate him, but for some reason they hesitated for a fraction of a second as they were about to close, and Sorel and Amberley dropped them both with well-aimed shots in the nick of time.
I turned back to the patriarch, encouraged by my success in wounding it, and swung the chainsword again. It never even flinched, batting the humming blade aside, and I ducked a wild swing of its lower left arm.
'What does it take to kill you, you bastard?' I snarled, carried away by my own anger and disgust.
'How about this?' Jurgen asked, appearing at my elbow. As he approached the creature, it staggered back, like the purestrains had done, momentarily disorientated, and he jammed the barrel of the melta into the wound I'd cut into its belly. As he pulled the trigger, its entire midsection flashed into steam and
foul-smelling offal; it staggered back, its eyes glazing, and swung its head in confusion. Then, slowly, it toppled over, vibrating the stone floor with the violent impact of its fall.
'Thank you, Jurgen/ I said. 'Much obliged.'
'Don't mention it, sir/ he said, turning the weapon to seek other targets, but the cultists were scattering back into the shadows. For the first time, some of them gave voice, a keening wail that sent shivers down my spine. We sent a few shots after them, but I, for one, had had my fill of combat for the time being, and was more than happy to leave them for the follow-up teams. Without the patriarch to focus and direct them, they would be easy enough to pick off, but they would have to be eradicated eventually-otherwise one of the surviving purestrains would grow to take its place, and the whole vile cancer would start to take root again.
'I thought you were dead/ I said. Jurgen nodded.
'So did I, to be honest/ he said. They were almost on us when the wall collapsed. Then I thought it might be just as thin on the other side, so I took a shot at it on the off chance/
'I take it you were right/ I said. He nodded again.
'Lucky, that/ he said.
'What about the others?' Amberley asked, as we began to climb the stairs. Jurgen looked sombre.
'Sorel made it through with me. We didn't see what happened to anyone else/ But then, he didn't have to. They would have been overwhelmed in seconds.
'Lucky you found us when you did/ I said.
'Not really/ Sorel had come to join us as we reached the level of the gallery. "We found your tracks in the dust, and just followed along.'
'How did you know it was us?' Amberley asked. The marksman shrugged.
'One pair of Imperial Guard boots, one pair of lady's shoes. Didn't need an inquisitor to work that one out.'
'I suppose not.' She looked at him with something like respect.
'Once we heard shooting, we just moved to flank the position/ Jurgen added. 'Standard operating procedure/
'I see/ She nodded, and pointed to the solid wooden door we'd reached at the top of the staircase. 'Jurgen, if you'd be so kind?'
'My pleasure, miss/ He grinned, like a schola student picked out to answer a question he knows the answer to, and vaporised it with a single blast from the melta, along with a generous section of wall.
'Emperor's teeth/1 breathed, as we entered the passageway beyond. It was paneled in burnished wood, a thick carpet on the floor, and delicate porcelain stood on occasional tables of unmistakable antiquity.
Bright afternoon sun stabbed our eyes through mullioned windows, and a dreadful suspicion began to form in my mind.
'I think I know where we are/1 said. Amberley nodded, her jaw set.
'Me too/ she said grimly.
The silence was shattered by the bark of a bolt pistol and Sorel fell, chunks of his brain spattering an expensive-looking tapestry and staining it beyond repair.
'Commissar Cain. And the charming Miss Vail/ Governor Grice was standing at the end of the corridor, gun held firmly in his hand, the air of vapid imbecility now totally dispelled. Той really are most annoyingly persistent/
Editorial Note:
My apologies for this, once again - if it's any connotation it really is the last time…
Extracted from Like a Phoenix From the Flames: The Founding of the 597th, by General Jenit Sulla (retired), 097.M42.
The renegades resisted doggedly, with a determination I could scarcely credit, and despite the faith I had in the women and men under my command, I must confess I began to doubt that our eventual inevitable victory could be won other than at a terrible cost in the blood of these noble warriors. The traitors had
prepared their positions well, and we could make little progress other than by fire and movement, scurrying from one piece of cover to the next. I gathered from the transmissions I could overhear that I was far from the only officer who found these delays unconscionable. Colonel Kasteen had already requested support from one of the armoured regiments among the expeditionary force, and some vigorous debate ensued as to whether the tau would regard this as a provocation. Why anyone would care about the aliens' feelings was beyond me, I must confess, but much of what had transpired since our landing had left me in a state of some confusion, and I comforted myself with the knowledge that my understanding was not a requirement in any case. Duty and obedience was enough, as it should be for anyone privileged to wear the uniform of the Emperor. In the event the lord general had acceded to her request, and the knowledge that a troop of Leman Russes from the 8th Armoured was on their way had bolstered the spirits of our heroic forces to no little degree.
In the meantime, we were still pinned here, and the certainty that our reinforcements, however formidable, were still half an hour away was, I must confess, taking a tithe of the exhilaration we might otherwise have felt. I had no doubt that we could hold on until relieved, but even with the spirit of the Emperor burning within us, it could prove to be a close-run thing if fate had any more surprises to throw at us.
It was while I was reflecting thus that fate did indeed surprise me, and in a fashion I could never have anticipated. My first presentiment was a vox message from Sergeant Lustig, the doughty leader of Second Squad, who broke into my command frequency with some degree of urgency.
'We have movement on our flank,' he informed me. 'Tau units, closing fast. Requesting instructions.' To his great credit, it must be said that, despite the trepidation he no doubt felt, his report was never anything less than wholly professional. A few more exchanges, equally crisp, flew between us, during which time we established the presence of a handful of battlesuits and at least one of the grav tanks our intelligence analysts had tagged 'Hammerheads.'
'Hold position,' I ordered, despite the doubts which rose unbidden to my mind. Our rules of engagement had been clear, and despite the treachery we could no doubt expect from the inhuman, they had done nothing overt so far to break our incomprehensible truce. Lustig acknowledged, and we both waited tensely to see if the gamble we were taking with our soldiers' lives would be won or lost.
I must confess that, for a brief moment as that sinister hull rose over the crest of the hillock of rubble my command squad had concealed itself behind, I had cause to curse myself for an overcautious fool; for as they came into sight, the cannon mounted atop it spoke, a thunderclap of sound which rolled over us
like a physical wave, and I apprehended treachery afoot at last. But the ensuing explosion erupted in the centre of the insurrectionist fortifications, silencing their guns in a single display of sorcerous fury that left us all momentarily breathless.
The tank moved on, humming quietly with the energies keeping it aloft, and the battlesuits bounded after it, spraying
the enemy positions with a prodigious amount of firepower. Rapid-fire plasma rounds burst and scorched among them, and salvos of missiles from the bulbous pods over the leader's shoulders poured into them in rippling waves, bursting in gouts of flame and shrapnel, shredding and pulping the bodies of those who defied retribution. Bewildered as I was at this sudden turn of events, for I could conceive of no reason for the xenos to turn against their erstwhile allies, I still had no doubt of my duty.
'Follow up!' I ordered. 'After the tau!' Bounding to my feet I led the troopers under my command forward, towards the hole they'd punched for us through the enemy defences. 'For justice! For vengeance! For the Emperor!'
SIXTEEN
Life's so much easier when you've got someone to blame.
– Gilbran Quail, Collected Essays
'Traitor!' Jurgen raised the melta and took a determined pace forward, placing himself between Amberley and myself and the turncoat governor. Grice winced visibly as my aide moved closer to him, although his ever-present bouquet was no stronger than usual so far as I could tell, then squeezed the trigger again. The bolt exploded against the oversized helmet protecting Jurgen's head, flinging him backwards in a shower of shattered carapace; but thanks to the Emperor, or sheer good fortune, it hadn't penetrated this time, the sturdy armour protecting him
from Sorel's grisly fate. He staggered back into us, and we both moved instinctively to catch him, dropping our weapons as we did so. My pistol and Amberley's miniature bolter thudded into the spongy carpet, and my chainsword, still activated, spun into a corner where it began chewing energetically through the skirting board.
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