Indomitus, p.20
Indomitus, page 20
Repair protocols sprang into action. Living metal bubbled forth from broken decks while canoptek facilitators rushed to the scene of the damage.
‘Open fire with all weapons arrays,’ commanded the overlord, gesturing imperiously towards the blot of movement on the display. ‘Wipe them from the stars.’
Energy relays sparked across the breadth of the tomb ship, gathering power for beam emitters and dimensional bursts. The green glow broke out along the surface of the vessel, coalescing through the apertures of the weapons systems to burst forth in sprays of emerald power and forks of cosmic lightning. The storm of disruptive energy struck the incoming vessel amidships, scattering like jade sparks from its defensive screens, tatters of energy crawling across the glowing purple banks of its shields. Astromantic power spiked in the aftermath.
‘Targeting data compromised, my lord,’ reported Phetos. ‘No direct hit. Their astromantic fields absorbed the energy input. It seems that the shields are working to a higher efficiency within the overnull.’
Plunging through the dissipating glow, the enemy ship came on, directly for Simut.
The assault ramp of the drop pod pitched open, bringing a waft of air baked by retro-thrusters into the compartment. Nemetus was out of his harness, shield and pistol in hand, even as the ramp hit the scorched ground. Boots clanging, he led the Intercessor squad out onto the surface of Orestes III. They were not the first to make planetfall. That honour had fallen to the outrider squad, whose specially modified pod had deposited their combat bikes half a mile away, beyond the other necron force. Even now they were circling around the spatial elevator station to assess the situation at the main defence.
Half a dozen more drop pods slammed down around the disembarking Ultramarines, each depositing a squad of fresh warriors into the overgrown grass surrounding the facility. Small brush fires spread from the last burst of thruster jets, wisps of smoke joining the heat haze of orbital descent.
‘The enemy are pressing the attack, brother-lieutenant,’ said the Intercessor with the long-range auspex, Brother Gaihalius. ‘No response to our landing yet.’
‘An error that we will make them pay dearly for,’ voxed Brother Exelloria. The Chaplain approached in the company of the Aggressors, their flamers replaced with rapid-firing boltstorm gauntlets for longer range. The bulky Gravis armour of their leader, Brother Velecht, was further enlarged by a fragstorm grenade launcher mounted on his shoulders.
Within ten seconds, the strike force had assembled on Nemetus and was heading for the broken ruin of the secondary gates. Calls for aid from the facility occupants had drawn attention to their plight, and Aeschelus had agreed with Nemetus that keeping one of the orbital elevators operational was a strategic objective in its own right. That it was one of only a handful of relatively defensible positions on the whole planet made it an obvious choice for the drop assault.
‘We will be swift retribution,’ called Exelloria as the Space Marines sprinted towards the opening in the wall, weapons scanning the ramparts for any sign of the foe. They did not slow as they reached the disintegrated ruin of metal that had been the secondary gate but pressed inside at speed. The ground within had been sealed with ferrocrete, a stretch of about a hundred yards between the outer wall and the main buildings from which the immense sky elevators rose and fell. Gaihalius led them along a heat signature trail towards the closest terminal building. Other than a discarded lasgun a few yards from the gate there was no sign of the defenders, but muffled shouts and sporadic bursts of las-fire could be heard over the more continuous war-din from the other side of the compound.
Coming upon a row of tenders, their flat backs still piled with containers ready for orbital transport, Nemetus signalled a halt. The squads broke left and right into a perimeter defence without any need for the command, their bolt rifles and assault weapons at the ready. Nemetus could see that parts of the haulers were missing. Some had neatly scooped out arcs and almost complete spheres taken from chassis and engine blocks, while others were missing whole panels or tracks.
There was still no sign of blood, though discarded power packs still orange-warm in Nemetus’ thermal gaze testified to an extended and recent defence of the position.
‘Some kind of phase field or disintegration beams,’ Nemetus told his command. ‘Our armour may not provide much defence against such weapons. Be on your guard.’
They advanced in squads, covering each other while they crossed the rest of the outer transport park. A mesh wire fence provided a secondary barrier line but it had been ripped apart, the links cut through with weapons that left a perfect, shining end on every severed wire.
‘Incoming!’ Gaihalius’ shout preceded a whine of motors by just a second, as a trio of skimming constructs whirred around the corner of the nearest building’s roof.
Each was a centauroid skeleton, but instead of legs their bodies were carried on two lines of spherical anti-gravitic emitters that gleamed with jade energy, as did the eye lenses that turned towards the Space Marines. Twin-barrelled cannons crackled into life, but the Ultramarines were the swifter to fire, a hail of bolts screaming up into the air to meet the incoming xenos. Rounds exploded across them, plucking at the metal of their bodies, sending one of the alien constructs spinning groundwards. The others shrugged off the storm of projectiles and returned fire.
Emerald beams sliced down, converging on Sekora in the lead assault squad. Nemetus looked on in disbelief as the Ultramarine was enveloped by coruscating green energy, stripping down through his armour, into the skin and the black carapace beneath, finally melting away his organs and skeleton. In the space of a second, he had been turned from a fully armoured warrior, one of the Emperor’s finest, to a greasy vapour drifting on the breeze.
‘Destroy the unholy abominations!’ roared Exelloria, charging towards the xenos. ‘Spare this world the curse of the xenos. Bring forth your anger as you raise your weapons. Let your hatred guide your aim more surely than any targeter. Give no thought to the techno-sorcery of our foes. Your will is greater than any abhorrent conjuration!’
The necron that had been grounded was starting to recover, pushing itself upright from where it had fallen.
‘Those that defy the will of the Throne shall not endure! The just punishment for the Emperor’s enmity is death! Death!’
The Chaplain’s bolt rifle spat fiery rounds into the alien, joined by a sudden flurry of grenades from Brother Velecht. Into the plume of detonations, the Aggressors unleashed a tempest of rapid-fired bolt-rounds, shredding the alien where it lay.
‘Concentrate fire,’ ordered Nemetus, aiming his plasma pistol at the incoming skimmers. He squeezed the trigger and a ball of pulsing blue energy hit its mark dead centre. The power of a miniature star exploded through the xenos, a fountain of blue fire erupting amid a welter of molten droplets. Bolt-rounds sliced at its tumbling corpse and the third flying warrior.
‘More of them, on the ground,’ warned Gaihalius. The Intercessor turned, auspex in one hand, bolt rifle coughing rounds in the other, aiming towards the mangled doors of the closest terminal building. The aliens that emerged were akin to the flying creatures but stalked forward on a trio of slender legs, their clawed tips tearing at the ground.
Fresh blasts of jade energy leapt out from the walkers’ weapons, slicing neat cuts through Brothers Kallius and Demeter; the former lost his leg, the latter was bisected from crotch to shoulder by the dancing beams. The other Intercessors responded with disciplined volleys of fire, laying down a continuous hail of bolts between them. The aliens were staggered but not slain by the fusillade, pressing forward into the storm of fire rather than retreating.
Nemetus pounded forward, snapping off another shot from his plasma pistol as he closed, his suit telling him that Exelloria converged from the right. One of the necrons went down, its crippled body seeming to evaporate, consumed by jade light from within.
‘The bodies are disappearing!’ Brother Velecht exclaimed, referring to the skimmer-creatures.
The remaining necrons charged to meet the oncoming Space Marines. A silver-edged blade that faded in and out of sight lashed down towards Nemetus, who raised his shield at the last moment. He felt the impact jarring his arm, but the flare of power from the storm shield kept the xenos blade at bay. He responded in kind, sweeping up with his power sword, its tip finding metallic flesh between the two forelegs of his target. A cry from Exelloria nearly distracted Nemetus but he kept moving. He dodged past the next phasing blade swing to drag his weapon along the torso of his foe, severing it completely about the waist.
Like the others it turned to nothing as it fell, a crackle of emerald power consuming its parts before they hit the ground.
‘Show no relent!’ roared Exelloria.
Turning, Nemetus saw Exelloria surrounded by a quartet of Intercessors, their bolt rifles driving back a tripodal foe with incessant fire. The Chaplain was down on one knee. A short distance away was his hand, clutching his crozius arcanum, neatly severed just below the elbow. Blood seeped from the wounded limb, drying on the black of the Chaplain’s armour, staining his blue loincloth.
‘Brothers! Coordinated fire.’ Nemetus fired another blast of plasma into the aliens. ‘Suppress and destroy!’
The last xenos succumbed to the weight of fire, its shifting, regenerating metal flesh unable to cope with the number of hits tearing chunks from it. With what seemed like a snarled threat the alien disappeared in a crackle of power, leaving a ripple of energy on the ground in its wake.
Quiet reigned after the brief violence, but there was no time for relief or celebration. Sustained gunfire still sounded from the other side of the compound. Nemetus sought out Gaihalius.
‘Any other readings, brother?’
‘Multiple life signals, some strong, others weak. Xenos signatures detected across the north-east sector. Intermingled.’
‘Sergeant Vayoz,’ Nemetus voxed the squad leader of the outriders. ‘Status report.’
When it activated the vox reply carried the growl of the outrider’s combat bike.
‘The enemy have breached the main wall, brother-lieutenant. Massed infantry, unsupported at present. Defenders falling back. If they give up too much ground, they’ll be overrun. We are moving in to support.’
‘Understood. We will rendezvous as quickly as we can.’
The Primaris Marines had started a sweep of the surrounding area but Nemetus called them back with a regroup command. The lieutenant checked the telemetry. Three warriors missing, disintegrated by the xenos beams. Exelloria was on his feet again, his crozius retrieved from his severed hand.
‘Righteous justice shall be mine,’ snarled the Chaplain. ‘Lead the way, brother.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Having examined his ship’s data storage for any intelligence on the enemy, Aeschelus had found little more than scattered hearsay. The necrons, a recent threat that seemed to have come from nowhere and yet were now being encountered all across the Imperium, left little evidence of their presence in victory or defeat. They registered no warp presence and their bodies were artificial constructs, yet the psykana adepts maintained that they were somehow alive rather than a remnant of some Abominable Intelligence from the Dark Age of Technology. Their standard weaponry was terrifying, able to strip targets at a molecular level, while their self-repair abilities made them as tough as a Space Marine to disable.
Even less was known about their starships, but simply on size alone, it was clear the Space Marine cruiser was no match for this one in an extended duel. A lightning hit-and-run attack to disable a vital system seemed the most obvious tactic, especially given the crew’s recent experience in such operations.
The captain was surprised by how easy it was to goad the enemy into a boarding position, as though they were ignorant of the threat. Not only had the aliens not responded to the presence of the Ithraca’s Vengeance until it had opened fire, they became so prepossessed by the strike cruiser that they had made no effort to engage the gunships as they sped across the void.
‘Assault force, final approach,’ he announced as the lead gunship, his craft, swung towards the blister-edged crack in the side of the capital ship’s hull. Repair mechanisms were underway, sealing the strange metal carapace as though healing a wound, but there was still a gap some fifty yards wide left by the combined bombardment cannon and gun deck strikes.
Movement sensors detected worker-creatures labouring at the break, easily swept away by heavy bolter and rocket fire from the incoming gunships. Able to set down in unison, the captain’s assault party advanced swiftly from the breach, heading towards the blocky dorsal superstructure that the captain had assumed to be engines and control systems.
The first encounter of the boarding party was with small service creatures, not much bigger than an outstretched hand. Bolts and combat knives made short work of them, but as the Space Marines advanced, the enemy swelled in number, scuttling across the floor, walls and ceilings in waves. Around them, insect-like constructs and fractured wraith-creatures attended to one another. Still-functioning necron automata ignored the intruders in their midst in favour of returning to their repairs, even when targeted by the advancing Space Marines.
‘Assault command, scan readings from the Ithraca’s Vengeance; only penetrate to your current position,’ warned Praxamedes, still aboard the Space Marine vessel and moving rapidly out of range. The plan was to withdraw the gunships into the planetary atmosphere rather than force the cruiser to remain under fire for evacuation duties. ‘No enemy detected at your location.’
‘No enemy?’ Aeschelus looked around. In the flash of his suit lamps, he counted at least half a dozen scarab-constructs just within a few yards, their sparking mandibles working at sheared bulkheads. ‘We are surrounded.’
‘Then we are blind to them, brother-captain,’ confessed Praxamedes. ‘It is not that the xenos creatures are invisible on the auspex, it is just that they register exactly the same as their ship.’
Aeschelus checked his auto-senses and then called to the closest auspex-bearer, Brother Opheus. ‘What are you picking up, brother?’ he asked the Intercessor.
Opheus spent several seconds adjusting the bulky scanning device, panning one way and then the other.
‘Only motion tracking seems effective, captain.’
‘We’re moving out of tactical vox range, assault command,’ warned Praxamedes. The signal was beginning to break up. ‘Do you need us to return for extraction?’
Aeschelus gave it only a few seconds’ thought.
‘Negative, ship command. Continue with your orders.’
‘Understood. Ship command out.’
That was it. They either pressed on or returned to the gunships.
His decision was forced by sudden bursts of fire and cried warnings from the lead squad. At just the same moment, the repair constructs around Aeschelus ceased their ministrations to the ship and turned towards the Space Marines, evidently receiving orders to respond to the invaders.
‘Open fire, all targets of opportunity!’ he snapped.
Despite their size, the beetle-like aliens packed a surprising short-range burst of energy capable of punching through power armour. In the sudden attack, Aeschelus lost three of his party – overwhelmed by clinging insectoid foes, their ceramite punctured by strobing detonations of jade energy. The flare of various grades of bolt weapons illuminated the interior of the alien ship, flashing bright from polished silver and exposed veins of crystal circuitry.
Aeschelus could not risk being drawn into a protracted fight; they had to push on towards their as-yet-unidentified objective.
‘Incursors, lead the way,’ he commanded. ‘Judiciar, reinforce the Intercessor assault squad. Everybody else, breakout procedures.’
The Space Marines moved with renewed purpose, focusing their blades and bolts on the enemies standing between them and further ingress into the enemy ship. The Incursors scoured ahead, their enhanced armour systems a little better at picking up enemy signals before they attacked.
They carried the bodies with them, determined that no brother would be left aboard the xenos vessel, whether alive or dead. Taking the increased resistance as a sign that they were heading in the right direction, Aeschelus led the force onwards along a single front. He dared not split away any squads, the augurs unable to penetrate the ship’s layout beyond a dozen yards.
Admonius fought ahead of Aeschelus in customary silence. There seemed to be an urgency about the Judiciar that carried the rest of them forward, as though he might singlehandedly carve a path to the target by sweeps of his greatsword. Aeschelus wondered if the Judiciar was trying even harder than normal to showcase his zeal or if it was simply a case of violent release after the mounting stress and frustrations of the warp-lull.
The tunnels – the semi-circular passages seemed more like tunnels burrowed through the metallic substance than corridors built out of walls and bulkheads – ran at peculiar angles to each other, converging from above and below as well as left and right. This arrangement suited the insectoid creatures far more than the Space Marines, who were forced to clamber up steep inclines and drop down shafts where their smaller, agile foes simply ran from floor to wall to ceiling without effort.
They ran into a new foe about three hundred yards from the entry point – the rangefinders were having difficulty getting an exact fix through the alien material of the ship.
‘Something larger coming up from below,’ warned Dorium, leader of the foremost Incursor squad.
