‘I come for you, Voldorius,’ he bellowed over the droning of the beast and the raging of the storm. ‘I come for your head!’
An arc of fell lightning blasted the metal decking between them, casting the daemon prince’s face in a white, hellish glow.
At the sight of that face, Kor’sarro’s heart filled with rage. The daemon’s mouth was a yawning chasm, ringed with a million lamprey teeth. Above the vile maw bulged two imbecilic eyes, which radiated not hatred, but unadulterated terror.
Cold anger flooded Kor’sarro’s soul. The beast that stood before him was not Voldorius.
‘Lies!’ Kor’sarro bellowed, feeling the urge to abandon himself to a berserker rage. The bitterness and frustration of ten long years of hunting threatened to overwhelm him, to wash away his discipline and wisdom and leave only a core of unreasoning anger. The Stormseers of the White Scars cautioned against such a fate, and their words came to Kor’sarro even now, in the cold storm of his rage. Those who trod that path never returned, they said. Turn from the Emperor’s light, and you will know nothing but the darkness of an empty soul.
The beast lurched forwards, its steps clumsy and uncoordinated. It raised its writhing daemon-blade high, and brought it downwards in a crude motion that bore no resemblance to the swordsmanship Kor’sarro knew the true Voldorius possessed. It leaned forwards, the balled fist of its left hand dropping to the ground to support its weight, its vile sucker-mouth opening still wider as it redoubled the mournful dirge.
The thing’s foetid breath blasted him, but Kor’sarro stood firm against the barrage. In an instant, all of the terrible threat, all of the doom and damnation in that siren wail was dispelled. As if the scales were lifted from his eyes, Kor’sarro saw the truth of the thing before him. This was no being of fell power, but merely some vat-grown monstrosity or a mutant ripped apart and reassembled to give it the appearance of the fiend Voldorius.
The reason why would have to wait, for the thing was rearing upwards, both arms raised to crash down upon Kor’sarro. There was no skill or art in the attack and Kor’sarro avoided it with contemptuous ease by sidestepping the powerful arms as they smashed into the deck where he had stood an instant before. The decking buckled where the impact hit home, the entire platform shaking violently beneath Kor’sarro’s feet. The thing roared in anger as it realised that its left fist was ensnared in twisted metal, and Kor’sarro saw his opening.
‘Vile as thou art,’ he spoke the ritual Chogoran words, ‘I condemn thee.’
Moonfang swept downwards in a glittering arc, but an instant before the blade would have struck the beast’s neck, it freed its claw and staggered backwards. Instead of beheading the creature, the sword struck its left arm at the elbow, severing it with a jet of brackish, black blood.
For a moment, Kor’sarro found he was blinded as the thing’s blood gushed over him, the vile liquid burning his eyes and flesh. Suddenly vulnerable, he threw himself across the decking sightlessly, hearing the rending of metal behind him as he moved.
The beast’s dirge changed to a plaintive wailing, rising in pitch and volume. Kor’sarro wiped his gauntlet across his face, clearing his eyes of the thing’s stinking blood and blinking as his vision returned.
The mutant was staggering backwards, the stump of its arm flailing back and forth as it continued to gush a fountain of dark, steaming liquid. With its every step, the metal decking buckled and shook, sections at its edge shaking loose to plummet to the ground far below.
Pressing forwards again, Kor’sarro raised Moonfang high to parry a crude overhead blow from the beast’s writhing blade. The two weapons clashed with a titanic ringing of steel, and for a moment the two combatants were locked in a terrible contest of strength. The thing bore down with all its power, its vile, lamprey mouth rasping less than a metre from Kor’sarro’s face. Row upon row of jagged teeth filled his vision, and he put all of his strength into pushing the beast’s sword clear. With a final effort, the two sprung apart, but before the mutant could recover, Kor’sarro swung Moonfang about in a wide arc.
The blade hissed as it tore through the mutant-thing’s midsection, scything through armour, then corded muscle, then innards. The bellowing was silenced as the beast’s internal organs were pulverised by the energies unleashed at the blade’s tip. Kor’sarro stepped neatly backwards as a tide of gore spilled out from the beast’s gut, great loops of black intestine thrashing and writhing as they spread out across the decking.
The bulging, imbecilic eyes went dead even as Kor’sarro watched, the life fading from them as the beast collapsed onto its knees. With a deafening crash that cracked the metal platform in two, it fell forwards, its great, black wings falling across its massive form as a death shroud.
Kor’sarro drew in a great gulp of air, tasting the taint of burning upon the winds.
‘My khan!’ Kor’sarro’s comm-bead came to life. ‘Kor’sarro Khan, do you read me?’
‘I hear you, Brother Temu,’ Kor’sarro replied, scanning the complex below for any sign of his warriors. ‘Report.’
‘Lord of Heavens has detected a signal, my khan,’ Temu said, as the tower beneath Kor’sarro’s armoured feet shuddered violently and lurched to one side.
‘What kind of signal, Temu?’ Kor’sarro replied, suspicion rising within him.
‘The Techmarines cannot be certain, my khan, but they have detected an energy spike deep below the refinery–’
‘A command signal,’ Kor’sarro interjected, bile rising in his throat. The tower… the thing disguised as Voldorius…
‘Pull the company out, Temu, now,’ Kor’sarro bellowed, turning for the ladder. ‘We have blundered into another of his deceptions!’
Even as he spoke, Kor’sarro fought for balance on the shaking tower. A deep vibration travelled up its length, and then Kor’sarro’s stomach was in his mouth as the tower dropped several metres and came to rest with a jarring impact. More detonations sounded from across the refinery, several of the mighty processing stacks dropping straight downwards, as if their foundations had been vaporised in an instant. Smoke and flame blossomed at the base of each, and within moments great gouts of liquid fire were belching into the air from a dozen ruptured promethium conduits.
Voldorius had lured the Third Company into a trap, using his own followers and the altered mutant-thing as bait. Bitter rage welled up in Kor’sarro’s heart as he stood at the precipice looking down at the burning city-refinery. Yet, even consumed as he was by hatred of the vile one, he knew too that his warriors needed him. Kor’sarro had made an oath to the Great Khan himself that Voldorius would be slain by his hand. He stepped back from the platform’s edge as fragments of it shook loose and fell away. He made for the ladder, and with one last look at the slain mutant, began the climb down. He would not be claiming the thing’s head, for there was no honour in doing so.
‘Temu!’ Kor’sarro called as he sped down the ladder, his feet thudding onto the first platform. ‘Lead the warriors out. I will not be far behind.’
The answer came over the comm-bead a moment later. ‘Aye, my khan. We are assailed by foes, but they attempt to break off the fight.’
‘Then let them,’ Kor’sarro ordered as he pounded along the platform to the next ladder. He was cut off before he could issue another order however, as a mighty explosion rocked the tower, throwing it violently to one side.
Kor’sarro was forced to take hold of a corroded pipe or be flung from the platform. The entire tower lurched sideways, and only Kor’sarro’s iron grip kept him from plummeting dozens of metres as his body swung out into air. The whole base of the tower was wreathed in flames, a pool of burning promethium spreading outwards all around. With a metallic wail, the pipe burst, wreathing Kor’sarro in scalding hot steam. The pipe bent outwards, suspending him several metres from the tower’s flank.
As if the situation could get any worse, Kor’sarro’s ears were assailed by a new sound, a keening like some beast the size of a mountain roaring a ch
allenge to the entire world. For an instant, he took it for the mournful sound of the altered mutant-thing that had drawn him towards the tower, but this was far lower in pitch, so low it was more felt than heard. And it was emanating from the ground, or from beneath it.
Pushing aside the sheer, unadulterated scope of Voldorius’s evil, Kor’sarro knew that he had more immediate concerns. The tower shook again, this time swaying the other way and dropping a dozen metres into the ground. For a moment, the open air below Kor’sarro was replaced by the inclined plane of the tower’s conduit-wreathed flanks.
There was nothing for it. Kor’sarro let go of the pipe and dropped, striking the side of the leaning tower almost immediately. Gravity took over, and he slid down fifty metres of the steep slope, sparks flying from his armour as it scraped along the rusted conduits. The rapidly expanding lake of burning promethium loomed, black smoke pouring upwards to engulf him. His life depending on his timing, Kor’sarro braced himself ready to leap. Then he was entirely wreathed in black smoke, unable to see a thing. He bunched his muscles and pushed himself off against the conduit.
Kor’sarro passed weightlessly through billowing smoke, and then he was out of it and the ground beyond the raging promethium was racing up to meet him. He had but an instant to prepare for the impact, tucking his legs so that as he struck the ground he rolled. Then he was up, Moonfang drawn from its scabbard before he was even upright.
Burning promethium raging at his back, Kor’sarro gained his bearings. Explosions blossomed from nearby buildings, and the frozen, debris-strewn ground beneath his feet trembled. A quake wracked the street, and the ground lurched.
‘Seismic charges,’ Kor’sarro growled.
Activating his comm-bead, he hailed his command vessel. ‘Lord of Heavens, this is Kor’sarro.’ The channel hissed and wailed with feedback for a moment, before the response cut through. ‘Lord of Heavens responding, my khan. Go ahead.’
‘The vile one has planted some form of detonator beneath the plant. The entire facility is coming down. Have all Hunters deployed to extract us. Out.’
Not waiting for the response, Kor’sarro closed the channel and set out along the street at a fast run. The buildings and machinery to either side were now burning, smaller detonations blasting shrapnel in all directions. The sky overhead was black, the violet aurora entirely obscured by clouds of smoke. As he ran, he scanned the alleyways and portals for signs of the enemy, but found only smouldering corpses, bandoliers crackling as ammunition cooked off. A part of him was stunned by the sheer scale of the destruction Voldorius had unleashed, shocked that the vile one would go to such lengths to ensnare his pursuers. How long had Voldorius schemed? Some time, that much was clear. The refinery had been fortified to draw the White Scars in. It had been extensively mined to ensure their destruction once they were mired in combat with the recidivists turned to serve the Alpha Legion.
He continued, pounding along streets now cracked and shifting as the ground disintegrated. The cracks widened into fractures, which Kor’sarro leapt over as he ran. He readied Moonfang as he closed on the building the White Scars had left their bikes in, slowing as he approached the hiding place. He doubted any of the convict defenders would be nearby, but was alert nonetheless.
As Kor’sarro passed through the dark opening, his boot thudded into something wet. At his feet was the blasted body of one of the black- and grey-clad soldiers that had accompanied the Alpha Legion. The man must have fallen foul of one of the charges set to defend the bikes. Kor’sarro’s eye was caught by a symbol painted onto the blood-splattered shoulder armour, something he had not noticed any of the other enemy soldiers wearing. It was some kind of heraldic device, a red shield mounted with four stars. He did not know the significance of the device, but noted it nonetheless.
Then Kor’sarro’s bolt pistol was in his hand and levelled at the darkness as he heard a sound.
‘Brother-captain!’ the voice of Brother Kergis came from the shadows. A moment later, the White Scar activated his bike’s engine, which roared to life, its headlights illuminating the interior of the building. In the harsh glare, Kor’sarro saw that Brother Kergis was not alone. His Command squad awaited, each upon their bikes, while Moondrakkan stood ready for him.
Kor’sarro grinned, but was struck an instant later by two competing concerns.
‘I ordered you to leave…’ he began. Then ‘Brother Jhogai?’ He feared he knew the fate of the company champion without the need to be told, but awaited the response nonetheless.
‘He died with honour, my khan,’ Brother Kergis said, his voice thick with grief.
Kor’sarro nodded silently. The warriors of his Command squad had fought together for years, and Jhogai was well loved and respected amongst the warriors of the Third Company. He might one day have risen to Kor’sarro’s own rank, but for the traitorous Alpha Legion.
An explosion nearby brought Kor’sarro back to the here and now, dust and debris falling from the ceiling. He pushed his own grief to the back of his mind, resolving to honour his fallen comrade by ensuring the others survived to continue the hunt for Voldorius.
‘I’ll have words with those who disregard my orders,’ he said as he mounted his bike and gunned its engine to life. Despite the harshness of his tone, his warriors would know he jested. He was eternally grateful they had waited for him.
‘White Scars,’ Kor’sarro bellowed over the roaring of his Command squad’s bikes in the building’s interior. ‘It is well past time we were leaving!’
At that, Kor’sarro led the way out of the building as larger chunks of debris were torn from its roof to crash down around them. The street outside now resembled a warzone, as if opposing titans had battled one another with no regard for their environment. Oily black smoke enveloped the refinery, the only illumination that of the raging promethium fires deep within. As they rode, they were forced to swerve as huge chunks of debris and falling buildings, massive conduits and processing stacks were cast down by the sheer destruction Voldorius had unleashed. The ground heaved, and several times cracks many metres wide appeared in front of the White Scars. They gunned their bikes’ engines and leapt across blindly, for all too often the other side was wreathed in smoke and flame.
The streets finally widened and the Command squad raced through the refinery-city’s outer limits, the smoke thinning noticeably. The bulk of the destruction was confined to the city’s heart, marked by the now-collapsed tower upon which Kor’sarro had faced the mutant-thing proxy of Voldorius. The White Scars cleared the last of the machines and buildings of the plant and closed on the inner trench line.
The defences were now abandoned by all but the dead and the dying, the recidivist scum having shown their true colours and fled. They would not get far, for those not cut down by the White Scars would not survive long in the frozen depths of the polar wastes, and they could scarcely return to their city.
Passing the defence line, Kor’sarro brought Moondrakkan to a slewing halt that kicked up a spray of ice from the frozen ground. As his companions slowed to a stop, he looked back in the direction they had come from.
The central zone of the refinery-city was enveloped in roiling black clouds, which seethed and pulsed as if with a vile life of their own. Flashes from within illuminated the clouds, silhouetting something that Kor’sarro could not quite make out. A deep, subsonic lowing filled the air, echoing through the blazing city and out across the frozen wastes. The sound was almost that of an animal, a vast creature bellowing its hatred and pain at the universe.
And then another flash of lightning illuminated the roiling cloudbank, and Kor’sarro saw something terrible. Rising ponderously out of the cloud was what he first took for a warped and distorted conduit, perhaps thrown outwards by the explosions tearing the city’s heart apart. Then he saw that it was no conduit; it was nothing made by the hand of man.
From out of the cloud rose what could only be described as vast, coiling tentacles. The animal keening rose to deaf
ening volume, forcing Kor’sarro to don his helmet and activate its dampeners just to preserve his hearing. More of the tentacles appeared, until a nest of dozens writhed and thrashed as if in slow motion. The vast, coiling limbs quested blindly outwards, each languid movement felling a building or processing stack and causing untold destruction. Whatever the beast was, it appeared not to notice the flames that raged all about it as billions of litres of promethium burned.
‘Xenos blasphemy…’ Kor’sarro heard Brother Yeku, his company standard bearer mutter.
‘Or worse,’ answered Apothecary Khagus, his own voice thick with disbelief at the sight before them.
‘What could be–’ Brother Yeku said.
‘Enough!’ Kor’sarro interjected. Even as he spoke, more of the tentacles were writhing outwards from whatever hell mouth had spawned the beast. Several were moving in the direction of the Command squad. He gunned Moondrakkan’s engine and brought his mount around. ‘Brother Temu, raise the Lord of Heavens. I want a situation report.’
As Kor’sarro and his Command squad moved out again, Brother Temu reported back. ‘Lord of Heavens says they’ve lost contact with the gunships, my khan. I barely got through, and lost the channel soon after.’
Several of the vast tentacles were now reaching high into the air, and one was questing in the command group’s direction. It was so large, even the fast-moving bikes could not hope to escape it.
‘All Hunters!’ Kor’sarro bellowed into the vox-link. ‘This is Kor’sarro, does anyone read me?’
Wailing feedback was the only reply Kor’sarro heard, before a second later the gargantuan tentacle loomed overhead and crashed to the ground a mere twenty metres away, pulverising ice and smashing apart crystal formations. The impact, had it come down upon the Command squad, would have crushed the whole group to a bloody smear.
Space Marine Battles - the Novels Volume 1 Page 6