Racing along in the Valkyrie, nearly skimming the tops of buildings, their gothic grandeur flashing past in a blur below, Hawkins recalled the facts that had transpired.

'You seek to replace the Astartes?' Hawkins stated, part question, part observation after taking a moment to consider the evidence and regain his bearings after the shocking nature of their intended victims was revealed.

'Careful Captain.' The Inquisitor warned.

'We already tread a precarious path, you should remember your place before uttering damning comments like that.'

'With respect, Inquisitor.' Hawkins shot back 'You are as damned as the rest of us if this fails, so cut the shit and answer the question.'

Several of the Afriel Strain troopers murmured their assent. Fellon looked taken aback for all of a split second before replying, smoothly maintaining his mask of effortless composure.

'Very well. Here it is. We don't want to replace Space Marines, they have their place in the grand scheme of things.' He hesitated, and then let out a sigh before carrying on.

'We are simply afraid of them. We can't control them, they answer to nobody but their own obscure hierarchies and recent trends suggest they will be as much a threat as a boon in the future.'

He waved out a hand in a broad gesture, encompassing every Storm Trooper with his sweep.

'This is an experiment, an exercise to ascertain whether an alternative can be found.

An affordable, controllable alternative.

It was decided at the highest level that the alternative be tested against the Astartes themselves to verify its credibility.'

Hawkins pondered this for a moment, before Sgt Granger piped up to his left.

'Logistics, lord. This is about resources.'

The Inquisitor smiled, a mixed expression, part infuriation that his chosen minions had seen through him so easily and part pride that he had made the right choice.

'We are fighting an eternal war across a galaxy wide frontage, Sergeant. Everything is about logistics.'


And so it was.

Hawkins leaned out of the side of the assault carrier, allowing the hot wind to whip his exposed face as he glared up at the sun, his helmet visor polarising automatically.

No re-breather this time round, there wasn't a gas in the entire Guard Arsenal that could stop a warrior of the Chapters. As a result he took a moment to enjoy the breeze in this otherwise sub-tropical climate.

He made the decision to attack at midday, when Horstland's white dwarf sun was highest in the sky.

Attacking at night would have been pointless, Space Marine optics were superior to those used by the Storm Troopers.

Along with their weapons, their armour, their bodies and minds. Hawkins supressed a sigh.

At least the training made sense now.

'A Hellgun shot will punch straight through Marine Battleplate if the hit is true.'

Inquisitor Fellon told them.

'But the wound would be likened to a pinprick to one of them. You have to aim for the head to be ensured a kill.'

Hawkins had reiterated this to his men during rehearsals, running one last firing rite to drill it home.

The hit rate had been encouraging, though whether it would hold true under combat was always a different matter.

'1 minute to target.' The pilot's voiced crackled in his ear, snapping him from his replay of events.

He slumped back down on the bench, noticing that this time the regular human door gunner didn't pass the hand signal down, his digits remaining firmly wrapped around the grips of his heavy bolter.

Hawkins put it down to nerves and passed the message himself.

Leaning out once again, the Captain peered out among the bustling streets of the Imperial city, seeking out the target.

There. Sitting alone, with a 20 metre perimeter gap all around, as though the other buildings were afraid to get close, was the chapter keep.

Hawkins squinted, prompting his targeter to adjust to maximum zoom, and he could make out the threatening raptor shape of the Thunderhawk, sat perched on its pad at the North end of the roof surrounded by low rockrete blast walls. Nigh on impenetrable looking Heavy gauge blast doors stood to the right of it, leading down into the building below.

As he got closer, 2 distinct shapes separated themselves from the lethal aerial predator, clad in plate the same colour as the Astartes transport.

They were both facing the approaching flight of guard craft, their postures wary, weapons in fists.

Hawkins felt terribly exposed, approaching at such a slow pace, but the ruse had to be maintained until the last possible moment.

Even as he formed the thought, a vulture pilot called 'Engaging' over the vox, both gunships accelerating to attack speed some 15 seconds out.

The Thunderhawk began to rise up from the pad, angling its nose sharply to meet the threat, but it was too late.

Cannons roared, missiles flew from hardpoints and the gunships dumped their entire payload in a few scant seconds of overwhelming firepower.

The powerful barrage slammed into the Thunderhawk, its fuselage bucking and rupturing in dozens of places as explosions blossomed over its armoured skin. One wing sheared off completely, the battlecannon turret collapsed in its housing before crashing forward onto the upper hull and rolling off to land heavily on the deck.

The proud Gunship seemed to hang in mid-air for a second, defiant in the face of such force, before it fell several metres and thudded into the landing pad with bone crunching force.

Valkyrie 2 pulled up alongside Valkyrie 1 as all door gunners opened up together, spewing a torrent of mass reactive tracer rounds at the Space Marines. The fire was inaccurate but it didn't matter, such was the volume of metal being flung at the 2 warriors.

Hawkins marvelled as they both snapped their bolters up as one, seemingly oblivious to the rounds detonating all around them, causing fist sized chunks of masonry to rebound from their armour, and opened fire in response.

Both Valkyries put on a burst of speed, causing the enemy bolts to drop short and decelerated hard, almost directly above the Space Marines.

As this happened, the rear 2 Valkyries peeled off and circled, holding station above the Keep entrance as Lieutenant Tuomas and his platoon rappelled down to the formidable bulkhead at the front of the building.

The gunner next to Hawkins finally found his mark, shell casings cascading down as he tracked with the heavy weapon, tearing a Battle-brother apart with punishing fire.

The Huge warrior Jerked and Spasmed, still returning fire until his legs were literally torn out from under him and he dropped to the deck, blood from dozens of wounds spattered around him.

Hawkins leapt from the gunship, controlling his rapid descent with one hand on the rappelling line as he fell, the other hand firing opportunist shots at the remaining Marine.

The Warrior, still not reacting to the heavy bolter fire even as a round blew a chunk out of his pauldron, started snapping off single shots at the assaulting Afriels pouring from Hawkins' Valkyrie.

Trooper Liushan of Corporal Gideon's brick took a bolt round to the midriff in mid descent which detonated in his guts, blowing his remains messily through the air as the severed line whipped back viciously.

Corporal Gideon himself took a round to the chest which exploded on impact, flinging him bodily 5 metres back just as his feet touched the ground where he lay, unmoving.

Trooper Haynes of Hawkins' own brick landed just in front of the giant warrior, who before he could act kicked out at Haynes' chest, snapping the line attached to his waist and sending the trooper skidding along the roof with an audible crack of bone.

Hawkins lay down covering fire as the rest of his men disconnected lines, laying into the heavily armoured Battle-Brother with automatic fire.

Las-bolts raked his powerful frame with little apparent effect as the Marine adjusted his aim upwards and let rip with a burst of auto-fire.

The rounds tore through the alloy hull of the gunship as though it was foil and shredded both door gunners, their flak offering no protection from the brutal assault. The body of the port side gunner pitched forward and fell, the ruined corpse left dangling in the air by his safety line, pulped innards pouring down onto the fighters below in a waterfall of offal.

Levelling his bolter again as human gore rained from above, the Space Marine aimed at Hawkins and was rewarded with a dry click as he pulled the trigger.

Without pause the warrior lunged with a growl, swinging the stock of the weapon in a blow that would have taken Hawkins' head off, had he not been suddenly jerked through the air.

Instead the blow grazed his helmet, denting it and causing the visor to spiderweb with cracks.

The shock of the blow felt to Hawkins like he had been hit in the face by Mag-train carriage, when a tiny voice in his head reminded him you are still attached to your rappelling line

The Valkyrie pilot had jinked to avoid the incoming bolter fire and was now extricating from the killing area, dragging Hawkins along the roof with him.

He struggled to reach his upper arm as he bounced painfully across the deck, retrieving his fighting knife in grasping fingers and slicing through the line at his waist in one awkward cut.

He bounced, rolled once, twice and landed on a knee, the armoured pad sparking as he skidded a final metre to a halt.

Every cell of his battered and bruised body screamed out in pain but he ignored it, tearing the useless helmet from his head and adjusting his targeter as he retrieved his now scuffed and battered Hellgun from its sling.

Raising it to his shoulder he saw that his men had killed the second Space Marine and were consolidating, forming a defensive circle around their casualties as designated men prepped their demolition charges.

It was deemed necessary to bring the powerful ordnance after Hawkins had assessed that Melta bombs would not penetrate the thick protection afforded by the Keep. He was loathe to use the damn things, but needs must.

Rising painfully, Hawkins ran over to his Platoon and was surprised to see Corporal Gideon on his feet, a crater in his chest plate and blood from numerous frag wounds pouring down his face.

He caught Hawkins' eye and gave him the thumbs up, then pointed to a prone form 5 metres away.

Trooper Haynes was on his back, gasping for air. Krabb held his hand as he struggled, failing to breathe through 2 ruptured lungs, the result of the savage kick received from the massive Crimson warrior.

'Can we do anything for him?' Hawkins asked Krabb, who shook his head.

'Both lungs are gone, a chest drain would just prolong the suffering.'

Hawkins nodded. Lamentation would come later, now they couldn't afford to lose momentum.

'Go now with the Emperor, trooper Haynes.' Hawkins said, Haynes stopped struggling and with a massive effort of will, nodded his head.

The Captain shot him in the face and patted Krabb on the arm forcefully.

'Move.' The Storm Trooper commander said to Krabb with a tip of the head, at which the Trooper jumped up and took his allotted position, his face set in a grimace of determination.

Losses were to be expected. At 2 troopers dead for 2 Space Marines, Hawkins was surprised they hadn't taken more.

A thunderous blast signalled 2nd platoon making entry, smoke poured onto the roof from the Southern Wall as the entire building shook.

'ST-1 this is ST-2 Actual. Entry made, over.'

Hawkins thumbed his throat mic. 'ST-1 actual, right behind you, out.'

Sgt Granger yelled 'Cover' as Hawkins slammed a fresh cell into his Hellgun before hitting the dirt and covering his head, being sure to keep his mouth open to counter overpressure.

The Demolition charge roared, taking out the roof entrance and most of the adjoining stairwell in a thunderclap of destruction. Hawkins felt the pressure wave compress his guts as a cloud of dust and debris showered around them, clattering to the deck in a solid downpour.

Hawkins was on his feet as the rubble still fell, rallying his men into assault formations before dropping through the dusty hole into the unknown, all the while repeating one phrase in his head like a mantra.

Aim for the head. Aim for the head. Aim for the head.


The fall was longer than expected.

Hawkins felt a stab of panic just as he hit the floor, his knees screaming in agony as he absorbed the impact, rolling with it and pushing onto his feet.

'Watch out, it's a big drop' He sent on the squad vox as another commando crashed to the ground behind him with a grunt.

The inside of the chapter keep was full of smoke and dust left by the demo charge, weak lume strips barely visible to each flank, marking the line of the walls.

Hawkins coughed as he switched to thermal, all the while advancing South cautiously as fellow Commandos landed with curses behind him.

A hazy outline stumbled out from somewhere to the left, about 30 metres up, a human.

Hawkins felt the air distortion as a violet bolt whipped past, dropping the figure with a strangled gasp.

'Chapter serfs.' Granger said as he stalked past, his squad filing up behind him in a loose formation to take up positions past their commander.

Muffled gunfire erupted from beneath them, rumbling throughout the keep like the birth sound of an angry god.

'-t-1…..ST-2…tual, heavy…..stance…king casualtie…over.'

The vox was getting heavy interference, Hawkins struggled to make out what Tuomas was saying. He put it down to the thick stone floors and walls of the old building blocking the signal.

'Roger that ST-2, fight on through we will link up as discussed, out.'

More and more Serfs came stumbling from side corridors, some armed and firing blindly into the dust, swearing loud oaths to the chapter and the Emperor.

2nd Squad engaged them en masse, a cacophony of overlapping Hellgun blasts tearing the robed adepts apart, their hazy white outlines falling to the ground as Hawkins observed through his targeting monocular.

Serfs had been anticipated as had a number of indentured Armsmen, the number of Astartes too small to mount an effective defence of the keep.

From the size of the facility, Hawkins had estimated no more than 50 men at arms, with nearly as many again in terms of support staff for the Battle-Brothers.

Hawkins yelled to Granger over the din of multiple weapons discharges '2nd Squad continue south and clear this floor, my Squad will descend to the second floor and link up with 2 Platoon.'

'Roger that boss, stay safe out there.'

Granger laughed and clapped him on the shoulder before moving off with his brick, shouting orders and snapping off shots at the stream of Chapter Serfs that were now advancing on them.

The Storm Troopers descended the stairwell in good order, pairs covering each other until they broke clean into the corridor below.

Clear of the smoke, the Troopers under Hawkins' command felt that calling it a corridor did not really do it justice, as they scanned around, looking for targets.

The area ahead was wide, easily enough for 5 Astartes warriors to walk abreast and its length stretched the entire length of the building, some 200 metres, with Doorways leading off its sides into offices and storerooms.

Everything was oversized to Astartes proportions, from doors to the cases full of tomes and trophies that lined the walls, even the unusually high ceiling. It made the Storm Troopers appear akin to children exploring a haunted hab block, cautiously probing the building's interior, wary that something could jump out at them any second.

The first shot crashed past Hawkins and smacked Trooper Ahiga in the face just below the visor, the las-bolt obliterating the front of his skull and whipping his head back, causing him to fall into a lifeless heap.

Before he had hit the ground Hawkins was firing, his men joining in a heartbeat later, drowning out his shout of 'Contact!' and saturating the air with supercharged bolts as they hit the deck.

The enemy had caught them in the open and without cover, while they hunkered behind emergency blast fortifications that had been hastily dragged into place across the corridor.

The men were too exposed. Left in the open they would be chopped apart by accurate fire from a disciplined enemy, Hawkins had to get them into cover.

Remaining in the prone position, Hawkins ordered the rest of his men to dash to the nearest doorway on their left, affecting entry as they went, while Hawkins' brick gave covering fire.

Corporal Gideon sprang up and ran at a sprint, lasbolts crackling through the air close by, and shoulder charged the heavy wooden door blocking the way. The nco smashed through the door in a crash of splinters and skidded into a heap, troopers Slayter and Drummond following up behind him running past with rifles in the shoulder, methodically sweeping the room.

It was an administration office of some kind, probably a cogitation cell used by the human serfs to manage the logistical requirements of the keep. There were logic stacks neatly arranged around the boundaries of the office, hooked into servitors that sat at work stations, gazing into glowing datascreens, slack jawed and oblivious.

A pair of robed females screamed and rose from an upturned workstation, making to dash for an annex room, only to be gunned down by the charging Afriels.

Corporal Forl and his brick stormed into the room shortly after, running straight to the far wall and taking a knee.

Forl turned and faced back into the corridor, using the doorframe as cover while he shouted.

'Cadan, Bojan, get krak grenades on that wall, we need to flank these fraggers.'

'Roger that.' One of his men replied, he couldn't tell which as he flipped to automatic and sprayed shots into the men taking cover further down the hall.

He hoped the interior walls weren't as robust as the outside of the building, then they would be done for.


Hawkins exhaled as a bolt zipped millimetres from his head, and pulled the trigger.

Crack

An Armsman's head snapped back, blood blooming in a fine mist from the crater in his face as the crimson armoured form disappeared from view.

Another las round plucked at the right elbow of his flight suit, causing a potent stinging sensation as the bolt burnt the skin there in its passage.

Crack

Another Armsman fell, having raised up above the barrier just high enough to receive a Hellgun shot through the sternum of his flak, flinging him onto his back.

Hawkins' brick stood their ground, lying in the open and returning controlled fire while their comrades re-located.

Seth was bleeding profusely from a wound in his shoulder and one of Krabb's legs was soaked in claret but they remained calm, utterly unconcerned with their own survival.

An automatic report sounded to the left, Hawkins risked a glance to see Forl blazing off an entire cell to cover his leader.

As soon as he clicked dry, Trooper Slayter was in his place, shooting rapidly at the now advancing Armsmen.

As one, Hawkins and his brick leapt up and ran into the large room, just in time to be buffeted by the blast of several krak grenades detonating at once.

Blood ran from Hawkins' ears from the overpressure, and through the deafening ringing he now heard he kept momentum, taking in the situation in a split second and silently praising the Initiative shown by his men.

Forl, Bojan and Cadan rushed through the breach as the dust still flew, disappearing out of sight.

Merely a second later, All three flew back through the ragged hole, Cadan skidding into a workstation in a clash of armour plate, the other men tangled in a heap of limbs at the breach point.

The throaty boom of automatic fire filled the room and Corporal Forl exploded, bits of him scattering as the potent bolts did their work.

Covered in bits of his NCO, Trooper Bojan scrambled backwards, struggling to bring his hellgun to bear as another burst of bolts took him apart. His carapace held firm, resisting with loud cracks as the bolts detonated prematurely, but the Marine walked his fire up the Storm Trooper's body and the last round struck his neck.

Bojan's head popped off like a cork, ricocheting wetly from the ceiling as the Astartes warrior shouldered his way through the breach, smoke streaming from the barrel of his bolter.

Every remaining storm trooper fired at once, violet bolts, turned into glittering neon beams by the dust particles in the air slashed into the warrior.

He withdrew at once, unable to take such punishment at close range, his transhuman body ravaged by pinpricks of dozens of shot puncturing his hallowed armour.

Hawkins drove forward with his men, following the Astartes as the hulking warrior moved backwards slowly, firing off the odd bolt, his aim faltering as he took increasing injuries on board.

The giant finally fell at the entrance to the corridor, crashing down like some great felled oak into the central hallway behind the serfs that had been moving up to flank the Afriels.

The giant's armour seeped blood, bright with vitality into the cold stone underfoot from hundreds of holes, briefly staining the ancient blocks the same colour as the stricken Brother's plate.

Hawkins slammed a fresh cell into his hellgun as his men followed on, charging into the corridor and firing on the serfs, catching them in the open at close quarters.

The Storm Troopers butchered them, within seconds there were two dozen bodies scattered about the Hallway, with more corpses slumped over the barricades.

Reloading again, Hawkins re-organised his depleted forces to the backdrop of gunfire reverberating throughout the complex, before taking a deep breath and moving off once more.