Shadowbreaker - Steve Parker

by Warhammer 40K

  Under fire from the drones attached to the other tanks, Voss saw his Elysians run in at their own targets. They moved fast. One of them, Irych, slapped a melta charge on the radiator of a Devilfish transport and angled away, springing hard.

  When the charge blew, the pilot of the craft lost control. The hovering tank swung left and crashed straight into the side of another. More charges detonated. Both vehicles exploded into burning scrap.

  ‘Covering fire,’ shouted Voss, pushing himself up and off towards the last target, another Hammerhead, his melta already charged to fire again.

  All around him was smoke, flame and the chaos of battle.

  He was smiling under his helm.

  Right in the middle of the maelstrom.

  Nothing else even came close.

  Twenty-eight

  The missile screamed so close to Chyron it almost grazed him. He was turning to cut down a t’au squad trying to flank him. A second earlier or later in the turn and the missile would have clipped him, detonated, bitten through his thick shell, possibly knocked him from his feet.

  Out in the open, besieged from several sides, that could mean death, and not one he could feel proud of. It was no easy thing for a Dreadnought to right himself. The thought of dying that way filled him with sudden fury.

  He roared with rage as he strafed a fire cadre of six, cutting them to pieces, then turned his attention to the source of the missile.

  The XV8s were fast. For all their size, they were able to jump like fleas. Space Marines with an assault squad loadout might keep up, but all the Dreadnought could hope to do was soak up the punishment until a good kill angle opened.

  Chyron saw moonlight and muzzle fire gleaming momentarily on his attacker’s carapace before it vanished behind the corner of a barracks building.

  His hail of bullets was half a second too late. Rounds punched holes in the wall, chewing the corner to pieces, but the XV8 had already repositioned.

  And there was still the other to watch for.

  Chyron knew he was in trouble. He couldn’t see either, had no idea where they were now. They were so damned nimble. And he was the biggest target – the only target – on the ground right now. Both XV8s were working together to get a kill angle on him while the t’au infantry kept him pressed. One would draw him, the other would flank and slay.

  Except I know what you’re about, you xenos curs. It will be harder than you think!

  Where was that bloody Imperial Fist? Why hadn’t he exited that armoury yet? The longer Chyron had to hold the courtyard alone, the greater the chance of failure.

  ‘If you’re in there much longer, son of Dorn…’ raged the Lamenter over the vox.

  As if in answer, the stocky Deathwatch operator barrelled out of the armoury door with his squad of Elysians in tow. One was missing, his ruined body cooling in the armoury, cut down by pulse cannon fire from the gun drones of the last Hammerhead tank before Voss had blown it to scrap. The four remaining stormtroopers immediately added their lasgun fire to Chyron’s fusillade as they ran. Behind them, explosions rippled through the building. Great sections of the metal roof began to fall inwards. Thick smoke billowed out.

  ‘Feeling the heat, Lamenter?’ voxed Voss as he slid to a stop by Chyron’s side, slung his meltagun, ripped his bolt pistol from the mag-lock on his left cuisse and started taking down a squad of t’au infantry that were trying to pin them from portable barricades on the south side. ‘More hardware in there than we anticipated, but we handled it.’

  ‘It won’t matter if we can’t take out their damned battlesuits,’ Chyron said over the roar of his assault cannon. ‘They’re working on a suppress and flank.’

  ‘We still have sniper support,’ said Voss. He voxed Solarion. ‘Prophet! What’s the word on those XV8s?’

  The Ultramarine sounded hard-pressed. ‘I’ve got other problems right now. They’ve deployed man-portable missile launchers on the walls. A lot of them. Multiple locks. All three Stormravens are running dangerously low on countermeasures. Scholar needs to get that damned woman out now so we can leave this hellhole.’

  ‘If we don’t secure the exterior,’ said Chyron, ‘it won’t matter!’

  ‘Listen, Prophet, as pressed as you are, we need you to take down one of the XV8s. We can’t get both from down here. They’re too manoeuvrable. We need air support.’

  ‘Damn it, Omni. I just told you–’

  ‘I thought you were the best,’ bit back the Imperial Fist. ‘Those XV8s are honour kills. Biggest threat on the field. But if one of them is beyond you…’

  Voss knew he had him. It was too easy. Solarion went quiet. Then, ‘I am the best, you stunted oaf. Just watch for the kill-shot. And mark it well.’

  ‘Get us up,’ Solarion barked at the pilot. ‘I need a clean angle on one of the battlesuits.’

  ‘M’lord, the second I take us out of cover, we’ll have every launcher on those walls locked right on us.’

  ‘How many more times can we deploy countermeasures?’

  ‘Six. They get a good lock after that and we’re going down. I can evade one, maybe two, manually, but more than that…’

  Solarion switched to the tactical channel for all air support. ‘This is Talon Three. Listen up. I want maximum fire on wall walks, towers and rooftops. Ignore ground targets until further orders. Is that clear?’

  ‘M’lord,’ voxed Ventius, Reaper One, ‘that leaves Talons Four and Six without close support. They’re under heavy fire down there. We–’

  ‘They’re the reason I’m ordering this, damn it. We need to clear the heights so I can take down one of those XV8s. If I can’t do that, our ground team won’t hold. Don’t make me repeat myself. Turn all your attention to the walls, towers and rooftops. Clear them, whatever it takes!’

  Orders given, he turned his attention back to the pilot of Reaper Two. ‘Graka, you heard me. Get to it. Or Talon will be down two Space Marines and the Death Spectre will take your head!’

  Twenty-nine

  Karras found the door to the command centre. The t’au were trying to cut through it with a powerful laser. Fortunately, the quality of their own construction was working against them. They didn’t even have time to turn before Karras and his squad cut them down, bolts and beams ripping into them, turning the corridor outside the door into an azure bloodbath.

  ‘Talon Alpha to Archangel, respond.’

  No. The vox was still out.

  Stepping over smoking bodies, Karras ripped out the power feed to the cutting laser and batted the machine aside. He removed his helm, raised a hand, spread his fingers and placed his palm on the surface.

  The field suppressing his gifts was as powerful as ever, but Copley was just on the other side, maybe a dozen metres away. If he pushed hard enough, if he really tried, there was a chance, slim perhaps, that he might manage to reach her.

  Closing his eyes, he called his power forth from deep down inside his mind.

  He tried to push his consciousness out beyond the confines of his physical body. He couldn’t. The suppression field was too strong.

  He focused harder, drawing forth more power from the warp. As it rose up from within, white witchfire began to manifest, licking his armour and flickering around his smooth, chalk-white skull.

  The troopers beside him retreated a little and turned to cover the corridor behind.

  Karras pushed harder. With effort and unusual slowness, his astral self at last emerged from his body and phased through the door. On the other side, the souls of Copley and her people shone brightly, drawing him forward.

  Copley’s soul was by far the brightest. So easy to distinguish. Focusing hard, he pressed towards it.

  When he was right in front of her, he reached into her light. It was turbulent in there. She was in control, but tense. Her mind was racing, processing visual data from the security fee
ds all across the base.

  ‘Major!’ Immediately, he sensed her attention shift. ‘Copley,’ he said. ‘Open the door. It is Karras.’

  He felt her confusion. Had she just heard a voice? Was it her imagination?

  She tried to message him over the vox. When that failed, she pulled up a holo-display from one of the feeds outside the control room. She saw the corridor, saw the Death Spectre and his team there.

  Karras felt her relief and stopped resisting the suppression field. He snapped back into himself, and the eerie white light around him guttered and vanished. A moment later, the heavy doors to the command centre began to split.

  ‘Inside,’ Karras ordered his team. ‘You’ll cover the corridor from there.’

  He strode past them to greet Archangel face to face.

  The visual feeds told a story of ordered chaos.

  Standing at Copley’s side, dwarfing her utterly, Karras watched on banks of t’au monitors as members of Talon Squad and Task Force Arcturus exchanged fire with a dwindling alien force that still greatly outnumbered them. Had it not been for the air support of the Stormravens, the sheer deadly might of Chyron holding the central courtyard and Omni’s destruction of the t’au armour, things would’ve been very different out there.

  The situation was still highly fluid. Nothing was certain. The balance could tip either way at any moment.

  And still no sign of Epsilon.

  Chyron was being hunted by the XV8s. The Stormravens had yet to get Prophet the kill angle he needed. Using the t’au’s own barricades against them, Voss and his team were doing their best to support the Dreadnought, keeping the t’au infantry from deploying anything heavy enough to complicate matters. But there was little room to manoeuvre and time was against them.

  Copley expressed deep concern.

  ‘They will overcome,’ Karras said. ‘We must trust to that and focus on finding Epsilon.’

  The woman pointed to a holo-monitor on the right. ‘That is the entryway to a dedicated vator that goes down to the basement levels. There is no other access. None of the feeds show us what’s down there. Whatever it is, t’au command did not want or need the personnel at these stations to see it.’

  ‘I need to get down there now,’ said Karras.

  He glanced at the other monitors. Watcher and Ghost had taken control of the north and south internment blocks. They had yet to release the inmates, but each level was littered with the bodies of blue-skin guards.

  ‘Without the vox-link,’ he said, ‘I can’t order them to release the prisoners. It would aid us greatly to have the t’au suddenly overwhelmed by desperate escapees.’

  ‘I can’t say why vox isn’t working in this particular block. I’ve had Morant going through their systems. There’s nothing like that. It must be something in the basement.’

  ‘Whatever is suppressing my gift is there also. I was able to reach you through the door only through proximity and great effort.’

  ‘Both of your brothers are occupying cell block control rooms. I could try the facility’s hard-line comms. Send a visual over to the monitors in those rooms. If they’re watching, they’ll get it.’

  ‘Do that,’ Karras said. ‘Get them to release every last prisoner in those blocks. We’ll flood the t’au in the courtyard with too many targets. Prophet and Chyron will take down the XV8s. But I need to get below, and you need to sabotage this place and get your team outside. Help hold the exfil point. I need your best lock-breaker with me. And your second best as insurance.’

  ‘Morant is your man. I’ll send him with you. Carland from your own fire-team would be second choice. It’s a distant second, so don’t lose Morant.’

  ‘I don’t intend to. Keep those vators running, but sabotage the rest of their systems. Blow this room if you have to, but those vators must stay operational.’

  He turned and left her at the displays, descended to the lower level of the command room and strode powerfully towards the door.

  Copley watched him, finding herself abruptly and powerfully conflicted. Only now did she realise that she had automatically and completely deferred to him. It was so hard not to. His very presence practically demanded it.

  Her pride won out. She called down to him, her voice sharp with anger-edged authority. ‘You’re forgetting who gives the damned orders around here, Deathwatch!’

  Karras stopped and turned to stare up at her from the level below. He removed his helm so he could look her in the eye.

  As she held that blood-red gaze, she felt a wave of self-doubt wash over her. Look at him! Splashed in the blood of aliens, his armoured bulk carved with skulls, he looked like a mythical battle-god made real, and she felt suddenly and totally inadequate before him.

  She quietly cursed. Had pride just made a fool of her?

  Karras, after a long second, simply grinned up at her. ‘My apologies, major. With your permission…’

  Copley swallowed and threw him a nod. ‘Get to it, Talon. We’re counting on you!’

  Karras gave a shallow bow, replaced his helm and strode out the door.

  Copley shouted for Morant and Carland to follow him, and the two men raced off after the Space Marine. He was moving fast. They had to sprint to catch up.

  Copley then called out for the attention of everyone left in the control centre. ‘Listen up, you meatheads! We’re going to sab every system and circuit in this place with the exception of the vators. Then we get out of here, rendezvous with the Dreadnought and the fire-team in the central courtyard and hold the exfil point until extraction. Is that clear?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am,’ they called back.

  ‘Good. We’ve got three minutes! Let’s do some damage!’

  Thirty

  Karras skidded to a halt and thrust up one gauntleted fist.

  ‘Hold!’ he barked.

  Morant and Carland slid to a stop beside him. Karras ushered them back against the wall.

  The next stretch of corridor was the last between him and the vator, but the t’au were present in force. A squad of twenty, entrenched behind portable barricades, guarded the only door. Three heavy weapons had been mounted. Between them, they covered the north corridor down which Karras would have to come and each of the side corridors, east and west.

  The firepower he was facing here was formidable. Had it not been for the heavy weapons, he knew he could have walked straight in among them. Without full access to his gift, which might shield him or massively magnify his speed and Space Marine reflexes, he and the Elysians might well be cut to bloody pieces.

  ‘No way around them, m’lord?’ asked Carland. He was the younger of the two Elysians by a decade, but his eyes already had the coldness of the seasoned special ops veteran.

  Karras pulled a Deathwatch-issue thundershock EMP grenade from a bandolier around his armour and chambered it in the grenade launcher under the barrel of his bolter.

  ‘Why go around when we can go through? I’m going to hit them dead centre and disrupt their hardware. The moment it goes down, give them everything you’ve got. But stay behind me. Do not try to rush ahead.’

  ‘Understood,’ said Morant.

  Carland nodded.

  ‘Ready yourselves,’ said Karras. ‘When this round detonates, there may be interference with our own equipment. Nothing serious at this range, but be prepared.’

  With that, he leaned around the corner and fired. Pulse rounds smacked into the wall in front of him. There was a thunk followed by a loud zap.

  ‘Now!’ shouted Karras.

  He burst from the corner and began systematically gunning down every target he laid eyes on. The Elysians followed, one to each side of him, lasguns blazing death.

  Alien voices cried out in anguish.

  The t’au had looked well prepared, but they were too dependent on their technology. As soon as the thundershock disru
pted their optics, they started desperately trying to throw off their battle-helms. Some had been bareheaded before it detonated. These few were still stunned by the noise and light of the detonation, but they quickly rallied and started to return fire, filling the corridor with crackling blue plasma and beams of lethal energy.

  They focused fire on Karras, desperate to stop him as he tore towards them, but his armour could soak up more small-arms fire than this before systems and integrity started to suffer. It was the heavy weapons that posed the real threat. Karras prioritised the killing of their gunners. Each fell with a wet blue crater where his face had been.

  Three bolt rounds.

  Three grisly kills.

  The other fire warriors ducked behind the barricades, safely out of the storm if only for a moment.

  Karras was about to order the Elysians to throw frags when suddenly, from the west corridor, he saw a grenade arc smoothly over the barricades and land right in among the foe.

  It detonated sharply, slaughtering those in cover.

  Of the ten remaining t’au, seven were instantly killed. The other three were injured badly.

  Karras had a feeling he already knew who had tossed that frag.

  He was right.

  Rauth was a blur of black and silver as he came into view, leaping over the barricade to kill the rest of the t’au with his combat knife.

  Karras signalled to the Elysians to follow as he walked forward to meet his squad brother, bolter now lowered at his side.

  ‘You’re supposed to be holding the north cell block, Watcher!’

  Rauth looked up from wiping his knife on the beige combat uniform of his last alien victim, sheathed the blade at his lower back and said, ‘The stormtroopers can manage now. I’m going down there with you.’ He thrust his chin in the direction of the vator doors. ‘You don’t know what you’re walking into.’