Tiberius gripped the cracked timbers of his command pulpit as the Vae Victus shook violently and accelerated through the gap the strike cruisers had blasted.
Smaller drone creatures peeled off from their attack on the Sword of Retribution, swooping around to come for Tiberius’s vessel.
‘Lord admiral!’
‘I see them, Philotas. Engage with port batteries.’
‘We won’t hit much without the targeting surveyors.’
‘Fire anyway’
‘If they board us, we will be unable to repel them.’
‘Damn them! Our only priority is the hive ships. Stay on target!’
THE Sword of Retribution pushed deeper into the swarming tyranid creatures, firing devastating broadsides from its many gun decks, filling the space around it with vast explosions. It had suffered the least of the Imperial fleet and its captain had volunteered to take the lead position in the attack.
Lethal strikes from the dorsal lances punched a hole in the tyranid fleet through which the smaller vessels of the fleet sailed. Alien vessels surged to close the gap, but the Space
Marine vessels were too fast, slipping past the vanguard organisms on a course for the hive ships.
The Kharloss Vincennes limped behind the Sword of Retribution, her ruptured hull and damaged engines causing her to fall behind the speeding Space Marine ships. As the tyranid creatures closed the gap in their forces, they also closed inexorably on the wounded carrier. Unable to launch fighters or bombers to defend herself, she was easy prey. Close-in turrets and broadside batteries kept the alien creatures at bay for a time, but as more and more closed with her, there was no doubting the outcome of the battle.
Snaking tentacles drifted forwards from a dozen cone-shaped drones, latching limpet-like to the hull of the battling carrier. Acidic secretions bound the creatures to the ship and their maws irised open, revealing caverns of giant teeth that burrowed into their prey at a horrifying rate.
Larger ships closed, then suddenly altered course to head back towards the planet, recalled by the hive mind to catch its attackers in a trap.
As the Kharloss Vincennes fought the losing battle for its life, the remainder of the Imperial fleet pushed on into the swarm.
THE NEAREST HIVE ship lay before the Vae Victus, its gargantuan shape filling the viewing bay before him. Attendant guardian creatures formed an impenetrable barrier between her and her escorting ships.
‘All ships, fire all weapons!’ shouted Tiberius. ‘We have to break through.’
Massive projectiles hurtled through space, exploding in vivid blossoms of fire ahead, but none were reaching their target. Kraken and drones moved in an intricate ballet that would have been virtually impossible for the Imperial Navy to emulate, screening the hive ship from the incoming firepower. Tiberius saw a handful of shots penetrate the living shield, but precious few were causing any real damage.
Tiberius opened a vox-link to the captain of the Sword of Retribution.
‘Captain, you must clear us a path! Use whatever means are necessary.’
He snapped off the link without waiting for an answer and said, ‘Philotas, try and raise Uriel. Tell him that whatever he’s doing, he’d better do it fast, because we won’t last much longer here.’
RAIN HAMMERED THE mountainside and lightning provided stroboscopic illumination across the rocky slopes as the thousands-strong horde scrambled up towards the bunker. Rivers of foaming water flooded downhill, sweeping great swathes of the aliens with it.
For once, the tyranids’ metamorphosis of a planet’s surface was working against them, saw Uriel. The glutinous mud was as much of a hindrance to them as it was to the Space Marines. Bolter fire raked the slopes, blasting apart hormagaunts and other nameless horrors in stuttering blazes of shells. Uriel hurled a pair of grenades, ducking back behind a rock as they detonated, sending up showers of mud and alien body parts.
Screeching carnifex struggled in the mud, their bulk causing them to sink knee deep. The winged monster flapped above the horde, buffeting winds keeping it from advancing for now.
The Deathwatch picked off aliens with single shots to their vulnerable organs, careful to conserve their ammunition. Ban-non scrambled across the slopes to Uriel’s position, his armour caked in clods of mud, the symbol of the Imperial Fists barely visible.
‘They’re circling around behind us. We need to get inside!’
Uriel looked up into the filthy downpour, seeing indistinct shapes bounding across the rocks towards the bunker. Ban-non was right, given a few minutes, they would be surrounded.
‘Let’s get going then,’ he said, rising from behind the rock.
Uriel felt the ground shift under his feet and leapt backwards as a huge portion of mud suddenly detached from the slope, sliding downhill as the torrential downpour washed it from the side of the mountain. He landed on his back and rolled, grabbing onto the rock as he felt himself slipping. His bolter clattered behind the rock.
He heard Bannon cry out and saw the captain of the Deathwatch desperately scrambling in the mud to keep from sliding into the mass of aliens below. Uriel braced himself on the rock and held out his hand towards Bannon. The two warriors gripped wrists and Uriel began pulling.
‘Uriel!’ shouted Bannon.
He looked up, seeing a monstrous beast with a fang-filled maw clawing its way up the slope. Its long, taloned fist clamped around Bannon’s ankle and squeezed. The ceramite cracked under its awful strength and its black eyes locked with Uriel’s. Bolter shells burst around the battle as the Deathwatch bought time for Uriel to rescue their captain.
Uriel roared as he fought against the tyranid’s strength, knowing that he could not defeat it. Bunching the muscles in his thighs, he braced his boots against the rock and gave a herculean pull, reaching down to sweep up his bolt-gun with his free hand.
Feeling the tendons in his arm crack, he straightened his legs, the counterbalance of the tyranid warrior pulling him to a standing position. Gripping his bolter in one hand he aimed at the creature’s head.
‘Let go,’ he said simply and emptied the magazine into its face, its brains mushrooming from the back of its skull as his bolts detonated within its cranium. Its grip spasmed and Uriel hauled Bannon to the rock, pulling him to his feet as another streak of lightning lit up the sky.
The two Space Marines slipped and stumbled their way towards the bunker through the torrents of water and mud. Twice, tyranid creatures came close to overtaking them, but each time the unerringly accurate bolter fire of the Deathwatch kept the aliens at bay. Uriel heard static-filled words in his helmet vox, but could make little sense of them. He recognised the voice as that of Philotas, the deck officer of the Vae Victus, but whatever he was saying was unintelligible.
Eventually they reached the rockcrete apron surrounding the bunker and slammed into its reassuringly solid bulk. As more lightning burst overhead, tyranid creatures slid downhill from the slopes above, skidding in the mud as they tried to find their footing. Silhouetted in the glare, Uriel saw the carnifex and the monstrous winged beast finally crest the plateau and lumber towards the bunker.
‘Everybody inside, now!’ yelled Bannon, firing at the carnifex as he limped backwards. Uriel stood beside him, loading and firing off another magazine to little effect. The monster’s screeching roar echoed from the mountains as it charged through the rain. Uriel ducked inside the bunker grabbing the giant locking wheel and shouting, ‘Bannon! Get inside, now!’
The Deathwatch captain kept firing and Uriel was about to repeat his order, when Bannon turned and ran inside, dropping his bolter and helping Uriel with the door. Armoured and sheathed in double layers of adamantium, the door weighed over four tonnes, and was normally closed by means of hydraulic pistons, but Uriel and Bannon pulled it shut in seconds, desperation lending their limbs extra strength.
The door slammed closed and Uriel spun the locking wheel.
‘That was too close,’ breathed Uriel.
‘
Aye,’ agreed Bannon, scooping up his weapon.
The steel of the door buckled inwards with a resounding clang. Thunderous impacts rocked it and dust fell from the ceiling. Glow-globes on the ceiling flickered with each impact.
‘Come on,’ said Bannon, ‘This door will not hold them for long,’ and marched along the bare rockcrete corridor. Casting wary glances at the booming door, Uriel followed him, eventually arriving in the humid fire-control chamber. Banks of ancient technology lined the edge of the octagonal room and an iron ladder led up to a brass rimmed hatch in the ceiling.
Magos Gossin sat before what was presumably the main firing panel with his head bowed in prayer, his tech-priests kneeling behind him and chanting in counterpoint to their master’s words. Mud-caked Deathwatch Space Marines stood at attention as the droning mantra continued, with no sign of drawing to a close.
‘Magos Gossin,’ snapped Bannon. ‘When can you fire these guns?’
Gossin turned in his seat, his displeasure at having been interrupted plain. ‘The capacitors are linked to the main grid, but the necessary prayers to begin the firing sequence are lengthy and intricate. It would be preferable if you did not interrupt me as I perform them.’
Bannon marched towards Gossin as another impact slammed into the main door.
‘Do you hear that?’ he demanded. ‘We have minutes at best before the tyranids are upon us. Fire these guns now or they will not fire at all. Do you understand me?’
A tortured metallic screech echoed through the bunker. Gossin stared fearfully along the corridor and nodded.
‘Deathwatch, with me!’ shouted Bannon, heading back towards the door.
THE VIEWING BAY of the Vae Victus lit up with the destruction of the Kharloss Vincennes, reflected light from the explosion flaring from the glossy carapaces of the tyranid bio-ships.
‘Emperor watch over thee,’ whispered Tiberius as another impact rocked his vessel. Deathly red light bathed the command bridge as more and more tyranid weapons scored hits. Their defensive capabilities had been degraded comprehensively by hundreds of drifting spores and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
The Sword of Retribution still fought, her captain performing brilliantly in evading the tyranid creatures and hammering the hive ship’s escorts.
‘He’s fighting to reach the second hive ship,’ said Philotas.
But Tiberius could see he wouldn’t make it. Already organisms were swarming over her hull and suffocating her firepower.
They had come so close! The first hive ship was right in front of them. The Vae Victus and the Mortis Probati had stripped away a huge portion of its defences, diverting much of the defences previously protecting it from attack from the planet’s surface.
But there was no attack from the planet and Tiberius felt his heart sink at the thought that they had failed.
‘All ships, prepare to disengage,’ he said.
THE DOOR BLEW inwards, ripped in two by a massive pair of claws. Rain and wind howled inside the bunker as a dozen hormagaunts fought to squeeze past the screaming carnifex that smashed its claws into the rockcrete around the door in
fn attempt to squeeze its massive bulk inside. A volley of disciplined bolter fire brought down the first and second waves.
A giant crack split the ceiling, the carnifex bludgeoning its way forwards.
Screeching howls and deafening blasts of gunfire filled the narrow corridor.
Uriel aimed at the carnifex’s head, its blunt features expressionless as it hammered its way inside. His shot put out its eye, blasting a chunk of skull clear. The beast flinched, but simply lowered its bony head and slammed harder on the bunker’s structure.
Leaping hormagaunts filled the corridor, screeching with alien fury as the Space Marines slowly fell back before them. Glow-globes shattered and the ceiling split apart with a booming crack. Huge chunks of rock dropped into the corridor. Uriel hurled himself clear as tonnes of rock collapsed and billowing clouds of dust filled the air.
He dragged himself to his feet, scrabbling for his fallen bolter as a mud-covered warrior organism leapt atop the steel-laced rubble. Its fangs spread wide and a secondary set of jaws lashed out, biting deep into Uriel’s helm. His visor shattered and he felt blood on his face as the jaws withdrew. He’ dropped to his knees against the wall, disengaging the vacuum sockets on his gorget and tearing the helmet loose.
The tyranid warrior pounced and a hail of bolter shells stitched across its thorax, exploding wetly within and spraying Uriel with its blood. Bannon hauled him to his feet as the tyranids clambered over the rubble and the Deathwatch hammered them with more shells.
Without the protection of his helmet’s auto-senses, the noise was deafening. Gunfire and thunder combined with the lightning to form a cacophonous backdrop to the battle. Dimly Uriel heard Bannon calling the Thunderhawk down as they fell back towards the control chamber.
As the Space Marines withdrew, Uriel was suddenly aware of a bitter, metallic taste on the air as a powerful static charge built around him. His scalp tingled and even over the noise of battle he could hear a deep, bass thrumming build beneath him.
He looked up through the shattered ceiling in time to see an incandescent streak of light spear skywards, looking like the manifest wrath of the Emperor
ONCE AGAIN THE viewing bay lit up, and it took Tiberius a moment to realise why. Another streak of light slashed past the Vae Victus blasting clean through the body of the hive ship. Another shot fired, followed closely by another and he surged from his command pulpit and punched the air.
‘Damn you, Uriel. I knew you could do it!’ he yelled over the ringing of alarm bells.
With atmospheric conditions more or less stable in the region selected by Uriel and Sebastien Montante, the beams from the defence laser silo were unaffected by the thermal blooming that had so hamstrung the defences in the opening stages of the invasion.
In low orbit, and with its planetward defences engaged in protecting it from the Imperial fleet, the hive ship was horribly vulnerable and was now paying the price. Explosions of flesh rippled across the hive ship’s body as blasts from the defence lasers destroyed it.
‘All ships, belay my last order!’ he shouted. ‘Target everything you can at that hive ship! We’ve got it, by the Emperor, we’ve got it!’
URIEL CLIMBED THE ladder in the centre of the control chamber, hauling on the rusted opening lever and pulling aside the hatch. The static hum was even stronger here and a soft blue glow illuminated the dome above the control chamber. Then a dazzling light flared and Uriel blinked away blistering afterimages as the flash of the defence laser’s fire filled the interior of the dome. The guns were firing automatically now and would continue to do so until the capacitors they had brought ran dry.
‘All clear!’ he yelled.
The sounds of bolter fire intensified as the tyranids, perhaps sensing their prey was escaping, intensified their attack.
Uriel hauled himself up into the dome, reaching back and pulling up the tech-priests as they scrambled up the ladder. Outside the dome he could hear the roar of the Thunderhawk’s engines as it hovered overhead.
One by one, the Deathwatch climbed to the dome, until only Bannon remained. He fired a last burst from his bolter before dropping it and leaping for the ladder. He climbed fast as the tyranids flooded the chamber below. Uriel and another Space Marine pulled Bannon through the hatch and slammed it shut.
‘Time to get out of here, wouldn’t you say?’ said Bannon breathlessly.
‘Way past time,’ agreed Uriel, as the guns fired again.
With Uriel leading the way, the exhausted group made their way onto the roof of the bunker. The wind and rain had diminished and the scale of the swarm surrounding the bunker now became apparent. Howling jetwash from the hovering Thunderhawk’s engines threatened to hurl them from the roof. Hormagaunts frenziedly tried to climb to the roof of the bunker as the carnifexes battered its walls. They had seconds at best.
Th
ick, rappelling cables hung from the crew ramp of the gunship and Uriel quickly grabbed them, distributing a cable to each of the Deathwatch as he saw swarms of gargoyles hurtling through the air towards the gunship.
‘Look,’ he said, pointing.
‘I see them,’ nodded Bannon, grasping a cable.
The Deathwatch gathered up the tech-priests and Magos Gossin as Harkus activated the winch to pull them up. Uriel wondered how the fleet had fared as he swung through the air below the gunship and the ramp above drew nearer. The flocks of gargoyles were closing rapidly and he silently urged the winch to haul them faster.
Deciding that he couldn’t wait any longer, Harkus spun the gunship, feathering the engines to gain altitude. Uriel didn’t blame him. The ground slid below him, thousands of aliens hissing with malevolence towards the sky as their prey escaped.
Then the world turned upside down.
Something huge buffeted him, smashing into his back and spinning him crazily
He heard a screech of rage and a grunt of pain. Flapping wings spun him around. His vision swum, but he could see the giant, winged monster thrashing in the cables below the Thunderhawk’s open crew ramp.
Its wings spurted blood, slashed to ribbons by the cable as it mauled a black-armoured figure who fought it with equal ferocity. As the combatants fought spinning on the cable, Uriel caught a flash of the yellow Imperial Fists insignia.
Captain Bannon stabbed the creature with his power knife, plunging it again and again into its hard, bony carapace. In
return the monster’s claws tore at his armour, ripping ceramite plates free and gouging bloody chunks from his body.
Swarms of gargoyles swooped down, closing to attack.
The Thunderhawk swayed in the air, unable to make its escape.
Hands reached down to grip Uriel’s armour and pull him aboard. He collapsed exhausted onto the armoured deck, breath coming in great heaving gulps as he rolled over to the edge of the ramp.
Below him, man and monster fought in a battle the likes of which Uriel had never seen. The gunship altered course, attempting to put as much distance between it and the hundreds of approaching gargoyles. But with its crew ramp open, it could not accelerate fast enough.