Author's Note: Originally this was one of my two short-story submissions for Black Library this January, but I've never heard back from them. This along with having read that there is quite the nepotism going on, not to mention that they've even admitted a few years back that it's only a publicity stunt, I decided to post my two stories here. Each has about a month of work put into it after all.
I used pretty much the same Kill-team as in "Victoria Primus", though this story takes place years earlier. The appearing Space Wolf Volund Thundertooth is actually mentioned in Dawn of War 2: Retribution, if you read the weapon description for one of the sniper rifles. There Volund was named an old friend of Cyrus, both having served in the Deathwatch together.
The second short-story, around the same Kill-team, I'll expand a little more and divide into a few chapters to be posted sometime later.
In Darkest Night
The grass was soft beneath his feet, deadening the sound of each step he took; not even his own ears could pick them up. In fact there was none but the faint noises of the ventilation system in the distance, barely audible and by now he had grown accustomed to them, like he had to the sound of his own breathing. His eyes tried to pierce through the darkness, yet he couldn't see anything other than simple shapes, outlines in the shadows; after all, he was within a fortress and no moon brightened the artificial night.
With his eyes rendered fairly useless he focused more on what his other senses told him, which had sharpened over the past day. Silently he moved through the labyrinth and sniffed the air. His target was close again.
Cyrus readjusted the grip on his combat knife and stopped, body slightly bent forward and close to the wall next to him. He did not lean against though. He wouldn't risk any sound and the rustling of clothes against steel could be treacherous. Instead the Blood Raven listened.
It was perhaps a futile endeavour, as his opponent was of the Raven Guard. Even an experienced Scout Sergeant such as Cyrus could not match his skill, but that was why they were here, why they had spent an entire day hunting each other down in utter darkness. It was Maccius' way of training his brother and who could rival the sons of Corax at the art of stealth, their wraith-slipping as they called it? Besides, it helped the Raven Guard to prevent his ability from eroding.
Cyrus' thoughts were interrupted, when one of the shadows began to move. Swiftly he lowered his head a shade passing over him and with his free, right hand he grabbed it. He caught a wrist and forcefully pulled his brother closer. As Maccius had been in a forward motion it was comparatively easy, Cyrus' ramming his left elbow into his midsection.
Maccius made no sound, there was only the rustling of clothes, when suddenly pain shot through Cyrus' head. The Raven Guard's knee had made contact with his brother's chin, knocking his head back. He could taste blood, yet still twisted Maccius' wrist, forcing him to let go of his weapon. Swiftly Cyrus brought his blade up, until steel touched upon throat.
Then someone applauded. The sound broke the silence as two large hands met each other time and time again, Cyrus and Maccius ending their fight. The lights came back to life, dim, but to their eyes it was bright and burning after a day spent in darkness. They straightened up and looked to their brother Volund Thundertooth, as he approached them with his characteristic smile, which presented his pointy white canines.
"Truly an entertaining display." He greeted them warmly.
"I wasn't aware we've been performing for an audience." Cyrus noted in return, putting his knife back into its sheath.
"I hope you're not too shy, old friend." The Space Wolf remarked. "Once more the Inquisition wishes to see proof of our skills."
"Is that not why we are here?"
Volund turned to the Raven Guard. "Indeed, Maccius. Our ship is being prepared as we speak; I suggest you make yourselves ready. We'll depart in two hours." His brothers merely nodded in acknowledgment and Volund departed again, searching his way through the labyrinth of small buildings, steel walls and trees.
"A shame really." Maccius spoke as he recovered his combat knife from the ground. "I would have liked to see the end of our fight."
"You are of little used with a cut throat, brother."
The Raven Guard shook his head slowly, running a hand through his short, black hair. "Oh, there was time for a counter at the last moment, had Volund not interrupted us."
"Of course." There was a touch of mockery in Cyrus' otherwise neutral sounding voice, but Maccius smiled amused nonetheless.
"Regardless, it was the first time you managed to land the first hit; it seems you are growing accustomed to the darkness. Finally I can step things up and fight you like one of my own."
Cyrus folded his arms, as he raised an eyebrow. "After our many sessions it was long overdue, wouldn't you agree?"
Maccius shrugged. "Perhaps, but I must ask you not to spread the tale." He chuckled. "I'd be the shame of my chapter."
"Your secret is safe with me, Maccius." The Blood Raven assured him.
…
Seven Space Marines had gathered for the mission briefing within a large circular room, its walls covered with monitors, a tacticarium table at the centre, creating a hololithic image of a planet, which hovered a few centimetre over its surface. None of the Astartes standing around it were in armour; their destination was still days away and so they were all dressed in rather simple black clothing. One could have almost believed that they were of one chapter as no emblems were showcased by any of them, apart from their Rune Priest's psychic hood, the half-arc that went over his head being shaped like a wolf's head. Volund stepped forth, his face bathing in the green light of the hololithic display.
"Brothers." He began with a welcoming smile on his lips. "Please allow me to introduce you to Tenebra Primus." With a hand he gestured at the hovering planet. "This world and its people have been spared the horrors of war for some time, but as we all know, such fortune does not last. There has been a series of assassinations, nobles, politicians, high ranking officers; almost daily new bodies are found. Inquisitional agents have investigated and discovered that the killings were all performed by a xeno creature known to us as a lictor."
Even as he spoke the monitors came to life, all showing different images of an utterly alien creature. It walked on two legs that ended in hooves, its torso seemingly covered by an external ribcage, back, thighs and a pair of mantis-like claws protected by large, spinous plates. There was also a tail, the tip somewhat reminiscent of that of a scorpion and it had two additional arms below the mantis-claws, ending in powerful looking talons. At last there was a long head with small eyes, though instead of a snout there were only feeder tentacles.
"A real beauty." Nadim scoffed, the Salamander's red eyes almost glowing in the darkness.
"These xenos are sent in before tyranid hive fleets attack a new world, tasked with undermining the enemy and weaken the defences. Fear is already rapidly spreading among Tenebra's people and both the local Imperial Guard as well as the PDF are practically leaderless at the moment. Theoretically our mission is simple; we hunt it down and kill it." At the last words, his smile showed his sharp canines once again.
Silas of the Celestial Guard frowned. "Theoretically?"
"In an ancient Terran dialect, Tenebra stands for 'darkness'." Volund explained to them. "The world is well named, as nights there last about thirty hours on the only continent this time of year. Additionally, little light is reflected by the moons orbiting Tenebra, so we'll have to rely on our equipment; I don't wish to see anyone without his helmet. The surface itself is mostly covered by endless forests and numerous swamps, the capital where the lictor has been active is on two sides surrounded by mountains. They all are excellent places for the xeno to hide from us. I will try and locate it, seeing as tyranids have a psychically very active mind, still, finding this beast in near absolute darkness will prove challenging."
"Well, it wouldn't be interesting without some challenge." Dareios remarked, the Brazen Minotaur regarding the monitors thoughtfully. "Can we be certain it is not hiding within the city itself?"
"Upon arrival I will search for its mind both in the capital, as well as in the wilderness. Emperor willing I can locate its approximate position."
"I assume initial scans by the ship will prove useless?"
"They will, Seneca." Volund answered the Ultramarine Apothecary. "The local flora and fauna are too numerous and would only throw us off, not to mention that these xenos can almost completely merge with their surroundings, not just with their chameleonic scales, but by adjusting their body temperature."
"They can willingly change their body temperature?"
"Ordo Xenos research indicates that they are capable of lowering and raising it to a certain degree." Volund's fingers ran swiftly over the table's keyboard, causing the hologram to change. The image of a pentagonal city appeared, bordered by both forest and fields, while to the north and west mountains rose into the sky. There was a dot blinking in the forest west of the capital, just south of a comparatively small field. "As you may have noticed, our brother Quintus will not be joining us on this mission; due to his recent injuries he remains at the fortress this time. We will deploy in the forest near the capital, while I will determine our further course from there. Seneca will operate the Thunderhawk and thus will not partake as well; should one of us fall, I want our only Apothecary to be still alive and the six of us can surely handle a single xeno." The Space Wolf proclaimed, looking at them with a teasing grin, as if to provoke them.
"Your trust in us is truly amiable." Cyrus noted dryly, though a corner of his mouth was pulled up to make half a smile.
"And I believe it is well placed."
…
The tall trees creaked ominously, swaying back and forth as the Thunderhawk took to the air again, the engines roaring like thunder in the night. Cyrus watched until he could only see three blue lights, which grew ever smaller in the utterly black sky.
The world had been well named; the stars were pale and while three moons circled Tenebra, they were so small that whatever bit of light they reflected was meaningless. Even as an Astartes Cyrus could see very little in the forest, merely the outlines of tall, slender trunks as well as the plants that were sprouting everywhere. Large fern, reaching up to the Astartes' chests and moos covered the ground, both glowing dimly with a pale turquoise light, strong enough to make themselves be seen, but not enough to illuminate what surrounded them.
Like all his brothers, Volund was only another black shade in the darkness, but his voice was clear, disrupting the silence. "Take your positions; I will require some time to locate our prey." A few nodded but no one spoke as the Rune Priest sat down and placed something on the ground. The Blood Raven didn't need to see to know that Volund was using his wolf teeth with runes carved into them, supporting his already impressive psychic abilities. Said runes came to life, glowing azure, casting their light upon the Priest, his eyes closed, concentrating.
Cyrus put on his night sight and looked about, his surroundings now coloured in shades of green. As he'd seen the trunks were truly slender, but now he saw that most were standing on tall, arching roots, like mangroves, though each root was as thick as one of his arms.
The Astartes formed a circle around their meditating Rune Priest, ready to fire on a moment's notice, but nothing stirred. Only insects chirped in the night. The air was cool and given that there would be no sun for over twenty-eight hours from now on, as well as the cloudless sky, the temperature would certainly drop even further.
Time went on, but the forest remained as silent and peaceful as it had been upon their arrival. No one spoke until the light of Volund's runes dimed and finally died, the Rune Priest picking up each tooth, putting them back into a pouch at his belt. "There is a presence. Faint, but distinctive." He began, looking at his brothers. "We move north, before it can escape our grasp."
"Then let the hunt begin." Dareios replied calmly, as the Astartes got into position, Volund taking the lead, the others completing the spear-tip.
Cyrus walked between the Space Wolf and Nadim, the latter's little light, flickering at the barrel of his flamer like a bright dot in the darkness. Their pace was swift, Volund seemingly knowing fairly well where they needed to go, as he made his way through the forest as if he was already familiar with these woods. After some time the trees were getting more and more sparse, a clearing coming into few. Fields.
Even before Cyrus had reached the border of the forest, he could see three buildings not too distant, surrounded to all sides by fields of what he assumed were vegetables. Like many of the other plants they were fluorescent, however not only in shades of turquoise but also violet. Like a glowing carpet they covered the entire clearing.
"The lictor is here?" Dareios spoke, as he stepped beside the Space Wolf.
Volund nodded. "It is here that I've sensed its presence, but not anymore. I'm not certain why it was here in the first place." He stopped and so did the Kill-team, needing to wait but a moment for the Wolf to speak again. "I sense no life within those walls."
"In none of the buildings?" The Salamander sounded worried.
The Rune Priest shook his head, the voice sounding plain, but Cyrus didn't miss the underlining sorrow as his old friend spoke. "I can sense only echoes, but they are weak and frail. Still, the tyranid has been here; its mind is so distinct that it has left something of an imprint. It must have stayed here for quite some time and not too long ago."
"Could our arrival have chased it off?" The Apothecary suggested.
Silas nodded. "If it has been here at the time, it would have certainly heard or seen the Thunderhawk."
"We ought to search this place nonetheless." Nadim said decisively; he was likely concerned for the people, who had lived here.
"Perhaps a futile effort, if it is survivors that you seek, Nadim." It seemed Volund had suspected the same as Cyrus. "But as we need to determine our path you may do as you please. Perhaps you even find clues to our prey's whereabouts."
Even a slight change in posture told the Blood Raven that his brother was grateful for this opportunity. "I shall keep an eye out, brother."
"I'll go with you." Even if Volund had assured them that there was nothing around here, it would be foolish to let one of them wander off alone and a lictor was more than capable of killing a lone Astartes. Cyrus was not willing to risk it.
"Good." The Rune Priest agreed, once more opening the pouch at his belt. "I will contact you both as soon as we head out again. Be on your guard."
Both Astartes merely nodded, before they got running side by side, crossing the field separating them form the civilian buildings with inhuman speed, the plants they trampled deadening the sound of their steps. Nothing illuminated the farmstead, the lights all turned off both inside and outside. Nothing stirred, even as the Space Marines took cover at a wall and peered around a corner, searching cautiously for any activity. The first two buildings were mainly used for storage, both about two storeys high, one essentially a great all with all kinds of equipment and vehicles, the other holding vast amounts of crates, many filled with the very same vegetables that grew on the fields.
It was the third, the residential building, which had been haunted by the creature that the common people, mostly Guardsmen, so appropriately called 'ghost' among other things. The entrance was open, the door swaying gently back and forth in the breeze, Nadim going in first his flamer ready, Cyrus following.
The room they had entered, which seemed to make up the entire ground floor, was a large kitchen, transitioning into an equally large dining and living room. Tonight it was the site of a slaughter. Three men were lying on the ground, all dead, deep wounds covering their bodies, either made by powerful talons or mantis-claws, the latter having pierced through the bodies like lances. The strangest wound however were several round, puncture wounds scattered across their heads with about the same diameter as a thumb.
"Feeder tentacles?" Nadim asked, though it was rhetorical.
His brother kneeled down next to one of the bodies, examining the wounds more closely. It almost looked as if a drill had pierced through the skull. "Strange that a Lictor would seek here for information." How much could a simple farmer have provided it with?
"Maybe it was requiring something else."
They knew that lictors devoured a victim's brain and thus absorbed the memories, but Nadim was right. "You're suggesting it has merely feed upon them?"
"As far as I know its body needs to be active for months separated from the swarm." Briefly he paused, Cyrus seeing one of his hands grasping the flamer tighter "It must get its sustentation somehow."
"Then these people here were easy prey." The Blood Raven replied grimly, as he rose back to his feet.
At first Nadim did not speak, his gaze first wandering to the other bodies. "We should check upstairs."
"I doubt we're going to find survivors; lictors don't strike me as creatures that leave witnesses."
The Salamander nodded once, but gave no other reply and headed to a wooden staircase at the opposite side of the living room, Cyrus following him. The furniture was partially damaged or tossed aside, a couch had been flipped on its back, fruits that had probably once been arranged on a table were now scattered across the floor around a large bowl.
The staircase whined mournfully at the great weight of the Astartes, but the thick steps merely bent beneath their boots. Upstairs they found themselves in a hallway, several doors leading to half a dozen rooms. "I'll take the left." Nadim said, just as Cyrus climbed the last step and knocked in the wooden door with a kick, breaking it out of its hinges. The Blood Raven frowned, but he was familiar with his brother's mood when civilian lives were concerned. Had they arrived but a few minutes earlier the family, or part of it, might have survived.
He turned to the first door to his right, behind which he found a study, empty except for cupboards full of books and a desk close by the only window. The next room was a little bigger with a large double bed dominating it, but neither aliens nor humans could be found.
Cyrus pushed the last door at the end of the hallway once, letting it swing open with barely a sound. He found himself in another bedroom, bed on the other side, still untouched. There was a window and simple wooden furniture lined the walls. The Blood Raven stepped upon carpet as he checked the room, but this one was just as empty as all the others. With the exception of a body.
Carefully he approached it, already seeing the blood-soaked clothing, the cuts in the fabric. He kneeled down next to the woman's body, examining the injuries along her back. Long talons had cleaved through the flesh and there were three holes which the Blood Raven assumed had been the handiwork of mantis-claws, the blood having been soaked up by the carpet beneath her. Only now did he see that she was holding something in her arms, covering it protectively.
Slowly he turned her body and Cyrus felt a touch of sorrow and pity tug at his heart. Even after a few centuries, he had not yet lost all of his humanity. In the woman's arms rested two children, a boy and a girl, both certainly not even a decade old. Each had a hole in their chests; the mantis-claws had pierced them as well, likely when their mother had tried to shield them from the beast.
With the woman's body resting against his bent knee, he gently cradled the girl's head, with his hand; it fit so easily in his palm. With a thumb he brushed a strand of long hair from her face and sighed. Even in death her features showed the expression of fear, her small hand still clinging to her mother's clothing, just like her brother, who lay partially beneath her.
Quietly Cyrus began to recite a prayer, hearing his brother entering the room, remaining at the doorway as it seemed. The Salamander did not speak, only listened. Other Astartes would not have wasted time on such sentimentalities, but this felt right, it was…proper. He spoke the final words and let silence take the stage once again. It didn't last long, only a few moments, not even a minute, before their radio came to life and Volund's slightly distorted voice addressed them. "The beast is heading towards the mountains. Meet us at the western border of the forest; head there straight from the farmstead."
Slowly Cyrus removed his hand from the child's head, letting it carefully sink to rest against her mother's shoulder. "Understood."
…
Cyrus' feet sank in deeply, the soft, moist ground sucking at his boots. After almost an hour of marching through the forest, they had walked right into a swamp, the air he breathed having become humid and somewhat mouldy. At first it had seemed like a clearing, trees now only growing sporadically on small islands scattered throughout the area, the forest behind them, while the mountains loomed ahead. It seemed as if the swamp was a natural aisle, cutting through the woods. Long grass was growing almost everywhere, making it difficult to see where one could actually step without sinking into the treacherous mix of water and earth, while long, thick twines snaked across the ground.
Other than the other plants, neither grass nor twines were luminescent, merely a few fungi, growing at the barks of trees or old branches that were sticking out of the water, glowed faintly in the dark. Only by stepping cautiously did the Astartes find paths through the swamp, Volund still at the front, though the team as a whole had fanned out even further. Their pace had slowed significantly, but the treeline at the other side was already close; they had almost made it.
Suddenly something tug at Cyrus's boot, letting it slip off the path and into the swamp, the thick water pulling at his leg. He gritted his teeth and pulled in turn, fortunate that merely his foot up to the ankle was submerged. There was a rather loud splashing noise, not the first that night, but the swamp released him again. Only now did he see that one of the twines had wrapped itself around his ankle. It hadn't been there before. His suspicion was confirmed, when he saw it tightening its hold like a snake.
His combat knife went through it cleanly, the plant sinking back into the waters. "Volund."
"Yes, Cyrus?" Came the reply the reply over the vox.
"Have you been given any information concerning the local vegetation?" The Blood Raven asked, having resumed walking, now more cautious toward the plants around him.
"None, but the fluorescence many are capable of." The Rune Priest replied, a touch of concern lingering in his voice. "Why?"
"A twine just tried to pull me into the swamp."
A brief pause. "I notify the others."
Had the Inquisition withheld information from them, or had they simply not known? The latter seemed somewhat unlikely, but such question would have to wait. Besides, they had almost reached the end of the swamp anyway.
The treeline was mere meters away, when Cyrus heard a loud splash and a growl to his left. A few steps behind him Nadim had accidentally left the semi-solid ground and stepped into the swamp, but other than with the Blood Raven, both his feet had slipped off. Within seconds Nadim was hip-deep in the thick mire. He was holding his flamer above the waterline, evidently trying to get himself out, but no matter how he moved, he remained stuck.
"I wouldn't mind some assistance, brother." The Salamander noted dryly.
"And there I thought you were just trying to blend in with your surroundings." Cyrus replied, as he began to search his way to Nadim.
"Usually I enjoy your sarcasm, but…" He didn't get any further, a shadow leaping from a nearby group of trees, faster than a creature of such scale should be capable of. It landed on the Salamander's shoulders, sharp talons taking hold of the helmet, long mantis-like claws rising up, ready to strike. One came down like a scythe, piercing through the carapace behind the left shoulder pad, going into the flesh.
Cyrus had but a moment to decide before the second came down, the feeder tentacles already beginning to roam the helmet, but his shotgun would hit Nadim as well. Swiftly he drew a plasma pistol from its holster with his right hand. Hate of the Xenos had accompanied every Blood Raven seconded to the Deathwatch and many aliens had fallen to it. The round was almost blindingly bright, though thankfully Cyrus' googles adjusted within seconds. But the Lictor saw it too, its small eyes briefly glaring at the Raven, before it leaped off Nadim's back, knocking the Salamander even deeper into the mire.
Silas, having been fairly close as well, fired at the xeno, moving as fast through the labyrinth of invisible pathways as he could, the others closing in as well. His rounds hit the beast at the back, breaking of pieces of the thick scales. They heard it hiss, but the Celestial Guard did not manage to hit it again, as the lictor swiftly disappeared between the trees of the forest, just as swiftly as it had appeared.
"Nadim!" Cyrus finally reached his brother, though his eyes still watched the treeline for any movement.
"I'll live." The Salamander growled, now up to his chest in the swamp. "This beast must have been waiting for one of us to get stuck."
Silas was the second to arrive, the rest of the Kill-team joining them soon after, just as the Celestial Guard helped Cyrus to pull out their brother. Nadim flinched and snarled, the injury protesting against the stress, but finally he was out and back on the slim path, mud covering his armour.
"How is your injury?" The Blood Raven asked him, pulling at the shoulder guard to take a look for himself. It was round, just like the ones they had seen at the farmstead, but the bleeding seemed to be already coming to a stop.
Slowly Nadim moved his left arm, trying different positions. "The pain won't last and it should not hinder me much in battle." He finally decided.
"I'll trust your judgment, brother." The Rune Priest noted, though Cyrus could see that he was troubled. "This was not the lictor we've been pursuing."
The Raven's eyes narrowed. "Are you saying there are two?"
"So it would seem." Volund admitted, his gaze wandering to the forest. "But now that they have evaluated the threat we pose, I suspect they are going to work more closely together to dispose of us."
"So we find one, we find the other." Maccius concluded calmly.
"I believe so."
"Well, you wanted challenge, Dareios." Silas reminded the Brazen Minotaur, reloading his Hesh pattern bolter.
There was a sigh. "Imagine my delight."
"Regardless, we'll finish this tonight. Move out and stay close together." The Space Wolf advised them, taking the lead once more. No one spoke anymore, the team moving in single file, covering the final two hundred meters at a pace which was still rather sedate given their environment. Soon they stepped back into the forest, darkness enveloping them.
…
The Kill-team had spread out just a few meters since they had left the swamp behind, just enough to prevent them from accidently injuring each other should they get attack. They were moving up the mountain, their path steep and growing ever slimmer, the trees dense as ever. Cyrus was walking close to the edge, the slope to his left almost going straight down, though trees still grew there as well, clinging to the ground with their roots.
They had been marching for more than an hour, but nothing had stirred, not even the local fauna; there were only the ever-present sounds of insects. The lictor, or lictors had not shown themselves again, but the Blood Raven had no doubt that they were watching. Volund had slowed their pace some time ago, stopping every now and then, searching for the xenos with his mind and other senses, trying to close in on xenos', or at least one's location.
That the tyranids had been here on the other hand was beyond doubt. Once more Cyrus passed a tree with claw marks on its dark bark. He looked up, but found nothing between the countless branches. Still, given its camouflage the beast could still be up there. Even with his night-vision googles assisting his eyes, Cyrus depended on his other senses just as much if not even more.
They went further, certainly having now covered almost the entire way to the mountain top, though this one was merely a little over a thousand meters high. Suddenly the Rune Priest stopped again, one of his hands lifted, the other holding his signature runic weapon, the one he shared his name with; the Thundertooth. This personalized force weapon was a glaive, a long staff with a single-edged blade at end of the pole, emerging from between the fangs of a silver wolf-head. "They're here."
The Raven Guard activated his Lightning Claws. "Both?"
"I cannot say with certainty." Volund confessed, his eyes now glowing with a faint blue. "But what I sense approaches us from more than one direction. Take positions!" He bellowed, the runes upon his weapon coming to life with the same blue as his eyes, a flash running across the blade for a moment.
With practise ease the Astartes formed a circle, the Space Wolf at their centre. Nothing happened. Cyrus closed his eyes and focused on his other senses. Leaves where rustling somewhere, disturbed by some creature's movements. There was more, but to his right. Was there another behind him? Three? All were only faint sounds, hardly audible even to him, further proof of the lictors' skill. They appeared to be coming closer and he let two fingers run over his shotgun's trigger. A branch close by creaked.
Volund snarled behind him, as a shadow leaped down from the trees, having chosen the Rune Priest as its first victim. It had landed on his chest, Volund having managed to turn around just in time, though the impact had thrown the Wolf on his back. Cyrus dodged sideways. Another lictor landed where he had stood, but immediately leaped further, its mantis-claws contorted, kept close to its body and in front of it like a shield. Nadim was about to fire, the beast coming for him, but suddenly the mantis-claws shot forth, their backs hitting the Salamander, the incredible force making him stumble backwards closer to the edge. Before he had found his footing again, the lictor tackled him again, shoving him off the edge, just as his flamer spat fire. As the Astartes disappeared down the slope, the tyranid hissed and leaped up a close by tree, flames still licking over its reinforced chitin plates, setting leaves on fire.
Cyrus fired his shotgun once, the rounds hitting primarily its legs. Blood sprayed, flesh was torn and chitin cracked. Parts of the lower legs were missing, the tip of its scorpion-like tail was gone completely, blood dripping from what remained. With these injuries the lictor slipped down the trunk again, its hooves having lost footing, one partially obliterated. The high-pitched screeching it emitted was painful, Cyrus flinching briefly, before firing again.
Swiftly the lictor let go, tearing talons and claws from the tree, letting itself fall down, narrowly avoiding most of the rounds, though one mantis-claw was hit, tearing apart muscles. It landed in front of him and even in its small, almond shaped eyes the Blood Raven could see pure malice and now rage. He was already squeezing the trigger, when something burst forth from its chest.
Cyrus snarled, when something like meat hooks latched on to him, some burying themselves into his armour, others into his flesh along the less protected arms, abdomen and legs; there were disadvantages to the scout-armour. He was suddenly pulled forwards with surprising force almost at the same time, the hooks being attached to ropy tendrils of pure muscle, towards the waiting claws of the tyranid.
A grave mistake. Maybe it was used to humans panicking at the sight of it, trying desperately to free themselves, but Cyrus did neither. He allowed himself to get pulled closely and only at the last moment, the mantis-claws already coming down, he pulled the trigger. The lictor's chest seemed to explode, the body hurled against the tree behind it. As it collapsed onto its front, Cyrus drew his combat-knife and cut through the tendrils still tying him to the alien.
A defiant hiss caught his attention, the lictor moving sluggishly, a leg twitching as if it was already dead. Cyrus was about to fire again, when suddenly a bright flame washed over the beast, finishing it off. Quickly he turned his head to see Nadim, climbing up, his free hand digging into the ground to pull himself over the edge.
"Thought we'd find you at the foot of the mountain." Nevertheless he was relieved.
"Luckily a tree caught my fall." The Salamander growled, getting on his feet.
Cyrus merely nodded and turned around. Their brothers were still in battle, the Blood Raven's earlier suspicion confirmed; there had been three lictors. The one that had brought Volund to the ground had stabbed Dareios through the leg with a mantis-claw, the bone no doubt broken, blood still running from the exit-wound. It had also destroyed the bolter's barrel with its talons, rendering it useless. As the Brazen Minotaur tried to pull the long claw out of his leg, the beast, still on top of the Rune Priest, let its feeder tentacles run across the Wolf's face. Volund was keeping them at bay with his free hand, though many found their way between his fingers and around his palm, his other grasping the second mantis claw aimed at his chest.
It had taken too long however. Suddenly blue lighting sprang from the Priest's hand, enveloping the tyranid. It seemed suddenly paralyzed, limbs twitching. Dareios finally had pulled the claw out, roaring with both anger and pain as he did. Holding it still in hand, he twisted it around with a quick move, the claw snapping, breaking. It threw the lictor off the Rune Priest, who swiftly took his glaive again, rising to his feet. The blade came down and went through the tyranid's body into the ground. Its leg kicked out, as it died. Dareios stepped closer, raised his foot and brought it down, shattering the skull just to be safe, though he held his wounded limb afterwards, going down on his knee.
Simultaneously a lictor had leaped onto Silas's back, both mantis-claws having gone over his head and buried themselves into his chest, the feeder tentacles running over the helmet, which it had grabbed with its talons. Blindly Silas fired his bolter, though only hitting the trees behind him. The ceramite cracked, the Celestial Guard went swaggering to his knees. Maccius was already moving towards him, but the tentacles broke through the lenses, as a talon moved from the helmet to the neck.
A lightning claw flew towards its head, just as blood rushed from Silas' throat. Quickly the lictor separated itself from the Astartes, the Raven Guard's attack missing the head, but Maccius had redirected his strike and instead cut through both mantis-claws just as they were pulled from Silas' chest. The lictor howled, stumbling backwards. It tried to turn around and run off, but Maccius had grabbed one of the stumps, pulling it closer.
It hissed angrily, crouching down in order to dodge another attack, though this dislocated the limb Maccius held on to. It leaped forth, the sharp talons digging into the Astartes abdomen where the armour was thinnest, as if it tried to disembowel him. It was a last desperate effort. The lictor had gotten itself into a position from which there was no escape. Maccius snarled as the long talons dug into his flesh, but his lightning claw came down, shattering chitin, cutting flesh, opening the beast's back.
The now dead body collapsed and lay still.
Silence returned to the forest, only disturbed by the footsteps of heavy boots as the Kill-team regrouped, gathering around Silas. Volund turned him onto his back and removed the helmet. Cyrus felt himself stiffen, his free, left hand clenching into a fist. Aside from the large circular wounds in his chest and almost severed neck, Silas' eyes had been obliterated by the feeder tentacles, two empty holes starring back at them, framed by blood.
"We shall meet you again, brother." Volund spoke solemnly, but not without sorrow. "At the right side of the Emperor."
…
The trees swayed back and forth as the Thunderhawk landed on the mountaintop, where the Astrates were waiting. The Kill-team had reached it quite some time ago, Maccius and Volund carrying Silas' body, Cyrus dragging along one of the lictors, as they had been advised to bring a specimen for further study. The tyranids were still a new threat to the Imperium and the Inquisition sought to gather information at any given opportunity. Nadim had burned the other bodies, thus removing any evidence of tyranid and Deathwatch's activities.
The hatch opened, dim light welcoming them as they stepped into the Thunderhawk. Cyrus removed his night-vision googles, the world regaining their natural colours. He quietly secured the tyranid body and took his seat. "Welcome back, brothers." Seneca greeted them, his voice slightly distorted by the speakers.
None of the Astartes replied, Volund strapping in Silas, the others taking their seats as well as the ramp once more closed behind them. They remained silent as the engines roared, lifting the vessel from the ground again, a tremor going through it. As they ascended, the first shimmer of dawn gleamed at the horizon.
…
With all brothers wounded in some manner, Seneca was found himself well occupied upon their return to the ship, the Apothecary taking care of the most grievous injuries first. The servitors were already preparing the amputation of Dareios' leg a room further, his limb shattered beyond repair. The kick that had destroyed the lictor's skull had only made things worse.
In the meantime Seneca was closing Maccius' abdominal wounds, the Raven Guard lying on a sterile slab, one of fifty in this room of the medical bay. Nadim was lying two slabs further down the room, Servitor closing the injury at his upper chest after the Apothecary had examined it. Another was pulling the flesh hooks from Cyrus' body, though other than his two brothers he was sitting upright, his slab opposite to Maccius', watching him quietly getting treated. Volund, the only one not needing tending, stood beside him, watching as well, his expression showing that he was lost in thought, or at least close to it.
"There is something I must ask." Cyrus began after a while, just after the last flesh hook had been removed.
Volund turned his head towards him. "Ask, Cyrus."
"Lictors only visit world that are targeted by a hive fleet. They prepare the invasion."
"I don't hear a question."
Cyrus' eyes narrowed. "A hive fleet moves towards Tenebra Primus and it does not have the defences to face such a threat, nor is it important enough to warrant the large scale defence necessary to defeat the xenos. If the people are fortunate, most or some of them will be evacuated and the world will be put to the torch by the Imperium itself to deny the tyranids resources. What we have done has not changed Tenebra's fate. It will fall."
"I fear the same." The Rune Priest confessed, folding his arms in front of his chest.
"So our mission was not to save that world or even stop the tyranids. It was only about the specimen, was it not?"
There was no immediate answer, but after a brief pause Volund replied. "It is not what they said, but you are probably right."
The Blood Raven looked to the other side of the room to a slab on which Silas' body had been covered by a blanket, reductor vials on a table next to him. Hopefully something could be learned from that beast, something that could help them defeat those monsters, or it all would have been for naught.