Legends of the dark ange.., p.34
Legends Of The Dark Angels, page 34
‘Aquila, this is Naaman. Do you think we have passed through the ork line in the dark? I see nothing here.’
‘Naaman, this is Aquila. We are north of your position, detect no enemy. The landing site is not here. We will withdraw in the direction of Koth Ridge and report our lack of success. There is no secondary ork force.’
‘Negative, brother-sergeant. We will continue east. Better to return with solid intelligence than an absence of it.’
‘Those are not our orders, Naaman! Master Belial commanded us to investigate this gridpoint. We have done so and it is our duty to return and report the lack of significant ork forces. We will receive fresh orders from the company captain. If he agrees with your assessment, we will return and continue further east.’
‘I cannot comply with that assessment, brother-sergeant,’ said Naaman, walking away from his squad, voice terse. ‘It is a day on foot back to Koth Ridge. To return for fresh orders will delay our search by two days. That is too great a window of uncertainty. As the senior sergeant in action, I am exercising my authority to continue the patrol.’
‘Your decision is in error, Naaman. We have already lost forces without report in this region. Master Belial is depending upon us to return with our reports as soon as possible. If further investigation is needed, the company commander will issue those orders. You should make your representations to Master Belial and allow him to decide the best course of action.’
‘We have found no evidence of the enemy, nor any evidence that sheds light on the fate of our missing battle-brothers. To withdraw now is premature, Aquila. Let me make my position clear. I will lead my squad further east. I am requesting your continued fire support in this move, but if you choose to withdraw it will not affect my decision and we will proceed without support. We are the Tenth Company, we are prepared for such operations.’
There came a growl in reply. Naaman did not wish to put Aquila in this difficult position, but he was intent on discovering what had happened to the other Dark Angels patrols. If that meant the Scouts would go on alone, he was comfortable with the consequences.
‘As you say, Naaman. Persona obstinatum! I will delay withdrawal and continue in support. It will not be said that Squad Aquila abandoned their brethren of the Tenth Company. I must insist that you agree to an extension of no more than six hours. If we find nothing in that time, you must concede that there is nothing to find.’
‘You have my agreement, brother-sergeant. Thank you for indulging my curiosity and caution. The Lion’s spirit lives on within.’
‘I will raise this matter with Master Belial when we return. I do not think your behaviour befits the position you hold.’
‘I understand, Aquila, and I appreciate your candour. I will accept full responsibility for my decision.’
‘Good. Now that we have settled this, let us make sure nothing untoward happens.’
‘I agree. I hope that you are right and I am wrong, brother-sergeant.’
Naaman killed the link and walked back to his squad.
‘We will head for that first ridgeline. I want to have an observation post there by noon. Ready for march.’
Naaman glared at the rising ground ahead, as if his stare alone could force it to yield its secrets. There was more happening on Piscina than he or anybody else could guess; of that he was certain. There were more orks here, of that he was equally certain. He just had to find them.
Two hours on, Naaman and his squad were halfway to the line of hills breaking up the East Barrens. Other than the routine check-in comms, he had not conducted any further exchanges with Aquila, so it came as a surprise when the comm buzzed in his ear.
‘Naaman, this is Aquila. Direct your attention south-east of your current position. What do you see on the ridgeline?’
Naaman took out his monocular and looked along the line of hills from left to right. With the first sweep he saw nothing. Knowing that Aquila would not have contacted him for confirmation without being sure there was something to see, Naaman swept the hill again.
He stopped, adjusting the focus. There was a dark haze rising from behind the hills in the direction Aquila had suggested. It was being quickly dispersed by the strong wind pushing over the ridge, but it was definitely there.
‘Aquila, this is Naaman. It looks like heat haze and possible exhaust pollution. Is that what you are seeing?’
‘Confirm, brother-sergeant. The location appears to correlate roughly to the position of the East Barrens geothermal site.’
‘Another energy plant? What would the orks want with that?’
‘I would not hazard an opinion on the subject, brother-sergeant. It is a confirmed ork presence. We should withdraw and report.’
‘It could just be smouldering buildings, burnt while the orks advanced. We haven’t confirmed anything yet, Aquila. It is only a few kilometres away.’
‘Is there any point in debating this, Naaman?’
‘None, brother-sergeant. Let us go and have a look.’
The comm crackled loudly as Aquila sighed.
‘All right, Naaman. We’ll take the lead, follow us up the ridge.’
‘Confirm, brother-sergeant. We are heading off now.’
The Scouts crossed the broken ground at speed, dispersed in a wide formation, weapons ready. Naaman kept glancing in the direction of the mysterious haze to confirm its location. After they had covered a little more than a kilometre, he called the squad to an abrupt halt. There was something strange about the scattered smoke. He used the monocular again to fix on the drifting cloud. It was darker, heavier. The wind did not seem to have altered, so the greater concentration of fumes meant one of two things. Either the source was growing stronger, or the source was coming closer…
Naaman swung the monocular sight across the ridgeline, looking for Aquila’s squad. He found them on the third attempt, riding slowly up a rocky ravine about half a kilometre from the crest, two kilometres ahead of the Scouts. Naaman urgently activated the comm, still staring through the monocular.
‘Pull back, Aquila!’
There was a frustrating delay before Aquila answered. The Ravenwing squadron were disappearing behind a lip of rock.
‘Naaman, this is Aquila. Repeat your last communication.’
Naaman took a deep breath, aware that his squad were watching him closely. His hearts were already beating rapidly, blood and hormones surging through his system, readying him for battle. He had to keep calm and clear.
‘Aquila, this is Naaman. The cloud is exhaust fume. I believe a sizeable ork force, including motorised elements, is beyond the ridge and moving in our direction.’
‘Confirm, brother-sergeant. What is your estimate of enemy force size?’
‘Inconclusive. Prevailing wind speed is dispersing the cloud. Accounting for the general pollution level of ork engines, I think there are several vehicles in close proximity to each other.’
‘Sergeant Naaman!’ The call came from Kudin, who was looking through his sniper scope at a point on the ridgeline almost directly east of the Scouts. ‘Enemy sighted!’
‘Withdraw from your position, brother-sergeant,’ Naaman snapped over the comm even as he redirected his monocular towards the area where Kudin was keeping watch. ‘Enemy approaching from north of your position.’
Coming over the ridge were several dozen orks on foot. Naaman’s attention was wrenched back to the right by the crack of a large detonation. A plume of fire and smoke issued from the gorge where the Ravenwing were advancing.
‘Enemy ambush!’ Aquila snarled over the comm. Gunfire rattled along the hillside, quickly drowned out by the thudding thrum of bolters echoing along the cleft. ‘They were waiting at the head of the gulley with tripmines and grenades. Brother Carminael is dead, bike destroyed. No assistance required.’
Another explosion rocked the ridgeline. Naaman snapped his attention back to the orks advancing over the hills. There were at least fifty of them now, some of them heavily armoured and armed. The orks continued down the ridge, a spreading blot of green and yellow.
‘Enemy attackers destroyed, withdrawing to your position,’ reported Aquila.
‘Negative, Aquila. The orks have not seen us yet. Do not draw attention to our position. We will withdraw undetected. Rendezvous two kilometres west of our position.’
‘Confirm, Naaman. Two kilometres west.’
‘Squad, listen,’ said Naaman, quiet but insistent. ‘You will withdraw immediately and directly to the west. Join up with Squad Aquila at two kilometres.’
‘What are you going to do, sergeant?’ asked Teldis.
‘I will continue to make observations of the enemy,’ said Naaman. ‘I will rejoin you shortly. Move out!’
The Scout-sergeant hadn’t moved his eye from the monocular throughout the exchanges. As he heard the Scouts moving away across the rocky ground, he switched back to the smoke cloud. It was certainly denser and a few individual plumes could be seen. The vehicles were almost at the ridgeline. He just needed to hold on for a minute or two to get an idea of the orks’ strength.
The foremost gangs of orks on foot were now less than half a kilometre away.
Naaman unrolled his cameleoline cloak and fastened it to his shoulder guards. Drawing up the hood, he pulled the cloak over his arm and settled behind a rock, monocular in one hand, bolter in the other.
He checked on the progress of the vehicles. Three bikes had broken over the ridge, smoke dribbling from their twin exhausts. Behind them trundled two flat-bed transports, their open backs filled with green-skinned warriors. There was more smoke behind them, coming from other vehicles that were still out of sight.
The orks on foot were four hundred metres away.
The greenskins glared warily along the ridge, guns in their clawed hands, alerted by the attack on Aquila’s squadron. Naaman lowered himself to his stomach and looked back at the crest. The column of ork infantry seemed to be all in view, a few less than one hundred of them. There was no way of knowing if more were following unless he stayed here and waited for them.
The rumble of engines reverberated along the rocky ridge from the south. A motor with a deeper timbre grew in volume. Naaman glanced to his right as he slithered back from his observation position. A larger vehicle crested the hill, its front bedecked with pintle- and turret-mounted guns. Half a dozen orks stood in its back, wearing brightly painted, heavy armour plates. Through the monocular Naaman could see wisps of smoke trailing from exhausts on their backs, the armour powered by spluttering engines.
Naaman was about to lower the monocular and move away when he noticed one of the armoured orks was much larger than the rest. It was a gigantic beast, yellow armour decorated with black flames, a long banner stitched with ork glyphs hanging from a banner pole on its back. It was another warlord!
With his other eye, he saw the nearest orks were now only two hundred metres away. It was time to leave.
Slipping away through the rough bushes, Naaman shook his head at what he had seen. There was no mistaking it. Another warlord could only mean one thing – there were two ork armies on Piscina. Though there was no way of telling how strong this second force was or what their connection was to the army in Kadillus Harbour, Master Belial had to be told this news. The orks were clearly marching on Koth Ridge; the earlier encounters must have been advance parties, rather than stragglers. Koth Ridge was held mostly by the Piscina Free Militia, with only a couple of Dark Angels squads in support. It was vital that the defensive line was reinforced.
Wrapped in his camouflaging cloak, Naaman broke into a crouched run, heading down the slope as fast as he dared. The bikes to the south were already level with his position, the trucks and battlewagon not far behind. Ahead, a cluster of boulders broke the thin soil. Naaman took cover between two of the upthrusting rocks and turned to face the orks. They were coming at him at some speed, though he was sure he had not been seen.
It was time to slow them down.
He levelled his bolter on top of one of the boulders and took aim at a cluster of three orks near the centre of the group. The bolter coughed in his hand, the gas-propelled bolts zipping soundlessly through the air. Their standard warheads replaced with a heavy mercury core, the stalker bolts punched silently through the padded armour and flesh of the orks. Two of them dropped immediately, the third fell to one knee, blood spurting from a wound in its shoulder.
The sudden attack sent the orks into confusion. Many of them dropped down and began firing at random patches of cover. Others flung themselves onto the rocks, their panicked warning shouts carrying as far as Naaman, who smiled grimly to himself. A few of the leaders began bellowing orders, pointing this way and that, sending their underlings scurrying behind bushes and boulders with little sense of order or discipline.
‘Dumb brutes,’ Naaman muttered, slinging the bolter strap over his shoulder.
Satisfied the orks would be sufficiently delayed, Naaman backed out of his place of cover and continued down the slope at a brisk march, breaking into a run as he reached the level plain.
‘Why must you continually disagree with me, Naaman?’ snarled Aquila. ‘Your contrariness would stretch the patience of the Lion.’
It was mid-afternoon and the orks were pouring westwards in increasing numbers. The greenskins did not appear to be advancing with any particular cohesion. For two hours, Naaman and Aquila had led their squads in careful retreat towards Koth Ridge. As the sun sank into dusk, it was clear to Naaman that his Scouts could not outpace the ork vehicles following them. Naaman had requested the conference with his fellow sergeant and told Aquila to leave the Scouts behind.
‘The information we have gained is too vital to risk, brother-sergeant,’ Naaman said. ‘You must get within transmission range of Koth Ridge and give them warning of the ork attack.’
‘It goes against my honour to leave you without protection,’ argued Aquila. ‘We are only ten kilometres from communication range. You can keep ahead of the orks until that point is reached.’
‘And would give those on Koth Ridge less time to prepare their defences,’ Naaman said, pacing impatiently. The lead ork squadrons were only a kilometre or two behind and catching up swiftly. ‘Aquila, my brother, your duty is clear. If nothing else, we will be able to elude the orks better without the presence of your bikes to attract attention. If you really wish to help, strike against the orks and lead their pursuit northwards. At the moment we are being forced too far south and will be cut off from Koth Ridge if we continue in this direction.’
‘I see the merit in your suggestion, brother-sergeant,’ Aquila said slowly, mulling over the idea. ‘We will perform a diversionary attack and withdraw to communications range. Once I have relayed our intelligence to Master Belial, we will return and cover the rest of your withdrawal.’
‘That won’t be necessary, brother. Your energy would be better spent defending Koth Ridge against the orks. If the line fails, it would reverse all of our victories so far.’
Aquila’s head swayed left and right for a moment, the sergeant conflicted between the possible courses of action. Aquila said nothing as he strode back to his bike and signalled for his squad to move west. The bike’s engine growled into life and the comm crackled.
‘The Lion will protect,’ said Aquila.
‘May the Dark Angel speed you upon his wings,’ replied Naaman as he watched the Ravenwing ride off into the growing gloom.
With the distraction of the Ravenwing squadron removed, Naaman set about analysing the situation. The orks would not reach Koth Ridge before daybreak. The coming night would be the best cover his squad could ask for, and it was likely the orks would make camp during the hours of darkness. Twice already he had seen warbikes and ork buggies in the distance, roaming freely across the plains. They did not appear to be searching for Naaman’s squad in particular, but they clearly knew that there were Space Marine forces in the area. With dozens of vehicles following behind, it was crucial that the ork patrols did not raise the alarm. If that happened, it would only be a matter of time before the pursuing greenskins caught up with the Scouts.
Naaman wanted to move directly west, straight to Koth Ridge, but the ground was far too open; the rock of Kadillus pushed through the grasslands like a bald patch, offering no vegetation or other cover. The Scouts would have to circle the rocky flats to the south, until nightfall at least, when Naaman would reconsider the plan.
Reaching his decision, Naaman passed on his orders to the squad and they set out a fast pace, eager to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the orks while the sun was still in the sky.
The march took on a watchful monotony: run, stop, scan the surrounds, run again. For minutes into hours, for kilometre after kilometre, the Scouts ran.
They ran without great pause for three hours, hugging the shallow folds in the plains to avoid being seen. Now and then they took cover, hunkering down in the long grass as one or other of the squad spied ork vehicles coming closer. So often had Naaman heard the distant growl of engines, he hardly paid it any mind any more. Only when he detected a change in volume that indicated vehicles approaching did he truly become aware of the noise.
As the afternoon turned to ruddy evening, the distant heights of Koth Ridge were silhouetted against the setting sun. The craggy spur rose up against the red sky like a wall, still too distant to make out anything of the defence force and Space Marines standing guard there. Naaman offered a prayer to the Lion, hoping that Aquila and his squad had evaded the orks and spread the warning of the massive greenskin advance.
