Noctem Oritur: Chapter 7
It was a moonless night and the midnight sky was lit only by starlight yet against that backdrop a series of cruciform shapes moved, they were Thunderhawk gunships and they were flying high and fast. They did not fly alone for with them came Stormhawk interceptors and Stormtalon attack craft; this was an expedition in force to shatter the enemy invaders and drive them from this world.
Far below the inky blackness of the oceans gave way to land as they passed over the coast and began their descent towards the enemy invaders occupying the capital city. Aboard one of the Thunderhawks were all the various squads who were not in Third Company, they were a mismatched force but their training and expertise would make them deadly nonetheless. Strapped into a restraint cage was Sergeant Toran, his torso was pushed awkwardly forwards by the bulk of a jump pack on his back and he had the Sword of Thiel strapped to his hip. His understrength squad was outfitted as Vanguards rather than Terminators for in this battle speed was more important than strength.
Strapped in next to him were Priyar, Zeax and Lorath they had all visited the armoury before leaving and as First Company veterans had been gifted with the finest wargear. Priyar boasted an ancient power maul engraved with litanies of detestation and Lorath had a pair of lightning claws that gleamed with deadly potential. Zeax had been doubly blessed with a weighty thunder hammer in one hand and wide combat shield in the other. Physically they were all ready but the sergeant knew that Lorath was quietly seething; he had long dreamed of commanding a squad but yet again had been passed over this time in favour of Toran. Lorath was technically proficient but lacked the inspiring qualities required in a leader, he was disciplined enough to not say a word when he had found out Toran had been promoted but the resentment was there.
From where Toran was standing he could see the other squads in the gunships, the towering form of Sergeant Furion standing across from Sergeant Mylos. Toran had a bad history from the start with Mylos and though he had tried to overcome it the feeling had not been reciprocated. Mylos had not said a word to him since they had boarded the gunship and Toran was beyond trying to reconcile with him.
Other than the three squads the only person aboard was Chaplain Wrethan, as the only clergy left on the planet he was in secondary command of the strike force and was directing the mismatched squads as his entourage. The planned counter attack was swift and direct, entirely in keeping with the Codex Astartes and yet Toran could not shake his misgivings.
Toran said aloud, "This is too easy."
Furion looked over at him and said, "I know what you mean, where the enemy interceptors… where are the orbital strikes?"
Mylos spoke up saying, "They are filthy heretics and base traitors; you give them too much credit."
Furion replied, "Never underestimate your enemy, the galaxy is littered with the graves of Astartes who relied upon the incompetence of the foe."
"Vorshaan" snarled Toran, "I scarcely believed it when the reports came in that the filth was here but there can be no doubt, this invasion has his foul fingerprints all over it."
From next to him Priyar spoke up, "Are the rumours true, has he resurrected the Shadow of the Emperor?"
"Impossible" said Lorath, "It is some trick, some vile lie to disgrace our noble cousins in the Raven Guard."
"Nothing is impossible" Wrethan injected, "Chaos can corrupt anything and we must be ever on our guard, only the Emperor is constant and true."
Priyar spoke up to ask, "How do you think the Raven Guard will react when they hear about this?"
"They will be outraged, their fury will be incandescent" said Toran.
"Not just them but their successors too" interrupted Furion, "The Raptors, Black Guard, Revilers, Knights of the Raven and the Smoke Jaguars will all be after the Dusk Prince's head, he has made a grave mistake coming here."
"That is what bothers me" said Toran, "Vorshaan is devious and manipulative, he thrives on lies and his attacks are always cunning, always surrounded by deception. This invasion is too direct and conventional for his tastes, he is up to something."
"I don't follow" said Furion.
"Why this city, why this continent?" said Toran, "Ka Lua is the smallest and least importance continent on the planet, there is nothing here but the nobility's private estates and even the capital is nothing more than an administrative centre."
"You overthink everything" sneered Mylos.
"No he is right" rebuked Furion, "It is the continent of Ka Mua that boasts all the spaceports, factories and industries not to mention the highest population density. All the strategic targets are there, the Traitors should have attacked there not here."
"What about the lands of Ke Kolu?" asked Mylos.
"That landmass was long ago given to the Tech-Priests for their Forges" said Furion, "The Mechanicus have that whole continent locked up tight, they wouldn't let anyone near their sacred fanes."
Toran had a thought and said, "The Mechanicus boasts vast armies of skittarii, their forces could be a great boon in this battle, have we approached the Tech-Priests for aid?"
Wrethan replied, "I already spoke to their Chief Magos myself, they wish us good fortune but will not risk their forges by sending any troops to aid us, it is up to us to stop this invasion."
"Typical" muttered Mylos "They are almost as bad as the Imperial Guard, we cannot rely on anyone else."
Furion responded, "Speaking of reinforcements is there any word from Chapter Master Gorgall?"
Wrethan answered, "The three remaining Librarians have been combining their efforts to reach the Chapter but the Chaos scum are doing something to the Warp, neither they nor our Astropaths can penetrate the interference."
"We did get a Strike Cruiser out" said Toran.
"There has been no word since their last vox hail" replied Wrethan, "They may have cleared the interference or they may have foundered in a Warp Storm, we must assume the worst."
"Then it is up to us" said Zeax, "We will crush these heretics ourselves."
"Indeed" said Wrethan, "Captain Dassa is leading third company in a counter attack on the captial and has all three remaining Librarians with him. Sergeant Nimodes has already dispersed his scouts into the area, he reports that there are a large army of cultists present, armoured support is scant but they are led by up to three hundred Chaos Marines."
That drew in a sharp gasp of breath from all and Toran said, "They outnumber us three to one."
"Worried?" sneered Mylos.
"No" said Toran narrowing his organic eye furiously, "But it will change our deployment strategies we should consider..."
He didn't get to finish the sentence for the vox snarled into life and the voice of Captain Dassa came over from his own Thunderhawk to say, "Scouts have discovered a secondary target, a large aerodrome outside the capital has been seized and enemy aircraft are already landed there. This is a direct threat to our assault, Chaplain Wrethan take your entourage and eliminate all opposition while Third Company remains on target."
"You heard the order" Wrethan said, "Furion, Mylos prepare your squads to deploy, Toran ready your vanguards for Deep Strike."
Instantly Toran and his squad leapt from their cages, mag-locking their boots to the deck as the Thunderhawk banked away from the main strike force. They made their way across the lurching deck to the front of the gunship and opened the side hatches to peer out; the assault ramp remained closed for opening a hole in the front of the aircraft mid-flight would bring it to an instant and fatal halt.
Toran gripped the sides of the door and saw a countdown begin in his visor as the pilots routed strike data to his vox link, he peered out at the inky darkness and waited for the numbers to slide down to zero. Finally they were over the target and as the countdown reach five he shouted, "For Terra and the memory of Roboute Guilliman!"
Then he leapt from the Thunderhawk to be instantly enveloped in inky darkness as he plunged into the midnight sky and the gunship disappeared above him, all he could hear was the roar of the wind around his helm and the sensation of weightlessness filled him as he dropped in free fall. Above him blazed the stars in the cloudless sky and before him were the shining lights of the city, it was like being adrift in space once more, the weight of his armour was moot now and he found it curiously peaceful.
For long minutes he plunged earthwards knowing his squad was behind him and eager for the fray then his visor came alive with targeting data, filling his vision with data. He saw the aerodrome spread out before him filled with enemy strike craft and wandering guards, his enhanced mind sectioned the base in a heartbeat and he evaluated the threats looking for the greatest concentration of foes.
He was dropping right onto the lean tower of the air control room but knew that this was a low priority, instead he saw a vehicle park filled with concentrations of Hydra batteries and Manticore missile launchers all grouped together. This was a serious threat to the Thunderhawk carrying the remaining squads and had to be eliminated fast, Toran fired a half second burst from his jump pack and veered onto the new target readying his sword and bolt pistol for the first strike.
They were falling at terminal velocity now and the ground was rushing upwards with the speed of freight train, ready to obliterate them if their jump packs hesitated even for a single moment. Toran could only trust in its ancient spirit to vouchsafe his life so he twisted around to drop feet first in readiness. Even in the dark his autosenses picked out the target in perfect detail and he saw the foe milling around, tending to the vehicle park blissfully unaware that death fell upon their heads. He levelled his bolt pistol at a particularly foul mutant and took aim; he breathed for single second then pulled the trigger.
Barely had the round left the barrel of his gun when his jump pack fired, twin columns of jet flame searing out past his legs towards the ground and arresting his fall. Toran felt like his spine was being ripped out and that his feet were dead weights pulling him towards instant death but his enhanced frame was more than a match for such wrenching forces and he was unharmed. Two seconds later he hit the ground like a ton of bricks, the jump pack had saved his life but he still impacted hard enough to shatter the ferrocrete surface. His enhanced legs and armour absorbed the force of the landing and left his crouching form squatting amid a crater of broken stone.
He wasted not a moment and before the enemy even processed his arrival he was acting, leaping forwards with the stored energy of a coiled spring and with a roar of righteous anger he charged into war once more.
