Chapter 14 V Hunters become the hunted
The ancient hallways of the Schola Progenium were empty. Scattered sheets of paper twirled lazily in the wind near a discarded data slate, its view screen cracked and chipped. The warm air carried the coppery smell of blood mixed with an odd herbal odour. A lone Hormagaunt prowled the eastern corridor leading to the Grand Librarium, elongated chitin encased head swivelling left and right as if sampling the air. Its swarm-kin had all perished in the initial assault of the wall but it was beyond feelings of loyalty or compassion. The vaulted ceiling of the corridor bore depictions of stern looking patriarchs and priests spreading the Imperial creed; scripture in one hand, a chain sword in the other. The Hormagaunts accelerated metabolism had burnt up energy at a tremendous rate and it needed to feed soon or risk severe weakness. The soothing yet adamant presence of the Hive mind was nearby, directing its animalistic urges towards a simple goal: hunt and devour.
A whimpering sound drew its attention: two dozen meters away a terrified boy tried to hide behind an overturned table but his laboured breathing and body odour gave him away easily. With graceful bounds the Hormagaunt closed the distance leaping from floor to wall and over the makeshift barricade, its alien limbs easily finding purchase on the ancient stone surface. The boy made a mad dash for the Librarium entrance flanked by twin pillars and reached it with only a few meters to spare. Sensing a quick and easy kill the Hormagaunt moved after him, hurtling past the pillars like an organic projectile composed of fangs and claws.
With the characteristic snapping sound heard so much throughout the battlefields of the 40th millennium half a dozen las guns opened fire sending a storm of angry red bolts of energy towards the galactic predator: several hit it causing wounds that immediately flash burnt the surrounding tissue but many shots deflected off the slick reflective carapace. Wounded but not disabled the Tyranid leapt into the air towards its prey while the boy shouted: "For Thrones sake KILL IT SHUB!"
As the Hormagaunt sprang for its prey with four talons extended Shub moved from his place of hiding behind a towering bookcase loaded with dusty tomes and fired his shotgun at point blank range. The recoil from the simple yet effective weapon rocked him back a few paces but the miniature metal pellets expelled from the weapons barrel tore into the Hormagaunt, easily fracturing its carapace and shredding the alien tissue. With a great crash the still twitching remains of the creature dropped to the ground mere inches from the quivering form of Ilander.
"You frekkin groxhumping son of an Ork!" Ilander yelled at Shub as six other boys and one girl gathered around to look at the dead Hormagaunt. "That thing nearly got me!" The pale twelve year old looked at the dead Hormagaunt in disgust. Shub ignored Ilanders angry stare and moved to inspect the dead Hormagaunt.
"Shut up Ilander, you'll attract more of the buggers with your whining. Besides you're still alive right?" Alek said as he sniffed the air. "Did you just crap your pants?"
Indeed the air was suffused with a mixture of sweat, urine and other bodily excrement. Ilander turned bright red and mumbled something illegible.
Shub meanwhile was on his knees next to the Hormagaunt corpse which still twitched slightly as the alien muscle and nerves coped with the sudden and fatal lack of neural stimulation. He ran the fingers of his biological hand across the scorch marks caused by the lasguns and the ragged edges of the entry wound where his shotgun had hit it.
"These creatures have fought humans before." Shub remarked pointing out the evidence of ricocheted lasfire. "They have evolved to better withstand las weaponry. Look at the way this carapace is moist and slightly reflective, and the way the plates are angled." The other boys stood silently around him in a semi-circle.
"No wonder they broke through the first line of defence so easily, they are built to withstand our most common weaponry" Alek remarked.
A hideous shriek in the distance interrupted their musings.
"We need to move fast and get to the armoury to find other weapons; solid projectiles seem to do the trick" Shub said as he scanned the seven remaining members of his class. His friend Alek had a grim but determined look. He had discarded the automatic stubber when they fled from the western perimeter, its weight and bulk too much to carry at any speed. Next to him stood Kelvin, left arm bandaged but otherwise healthy. He looked at his las gun with mixed emotions as he digested the news he had just received. The remainder of the group consisted of Namuth whom they had picked up in their retreat from the western perimeter, Gloria a rather rotund 14 year old female commissarial cadet with short cropped blonde hair, Constantine the quiet elder of class 401-B, Wulf a sprig of a boy who had just turned 13 and who could barely heft his lasgun, and Ilander who stood away from the rest of the group trying to cope with his fouled clothing without drawing too much attention.
Shub cranked the slider on his shotgun chambering a new shell and mentally reviewed their current position relative to the closest Schola armoury. With his near perfect recollection of facts and memory he knew that a relief force would be sent to the Schola: they were in the very heart of the realm of Macragge and it would only be a matter of time before the masters of Ultramar responded to this invasion of their domain. Still it was odd that a force of Tyranids had appeared out of the blue here in the very heart of the Ultramar System; after the Segmentum Solar one of the most heavily defended areas in the Imperium of Man. Quickly reviewing the options and discarding the routes that would cross too many open spaces Shub settled for a less often used path behind some of the Schola's environmental training facilities that would lead them directly to a secondary armoury. Drawing the approach on a piece of parchment he outlined the areas they would need to cover and which angles were most likely to be used by any Tyranid organisms.
"Remember, these creatures have specifically evolved to cope with energy weapons so expect to need multiple shots to take one down. Aim for the side of the skull that is where this strain of Gaunt has the organs responsible for balance and spatial awareness." Shub pointed out with the barrel of shotgun using the dead Hormagaunt as an example. "A direct hit there will take out its ability to move fast or climb walls. At least temporarily"
Gloria frowned: "Where did you get all this information on blasphemous xenos? I have never heard of these creatures before let alone familiarized myself with their aberrant physiology"
Shub shrugged: "It helps to pay attention to classes and if it helps us to kill them even better"
The cadet-commissar frowned, clearly unhappy with the answer but unwilling to do anything about it in their current predicament. Checking their weapons for the last time the 8 students moved off at a pace.
Bridge of Ultramar Sword-Class frigate "Guisarme", Espandor system
The powerful wedge-shaped armoured prow of the Imperial ship flared angrily as it ploughed through the cloud of debris that was all that was left of a trio of asteroids. The ship itself was old and temperamental but armed to the teeth and cruised through the void like a predator. Rows of turret-mounted Lance weapons jutted from the dark grey outer hull ready to fire deadly beams of concentrated energy over thousands of kilometres. In the wake of the Guisarme the void was illuminated by the dark red glow of massive plasma engines propelling the Frigate through space at a leisurely pace.
"Captain, Auspex has picked up another group of projectiles emerging from the warp heading for the tertiary planet in the system." A crewman reported, reading the complex lines of data on his workstation.
The middle-aged man in crisp dark blue navy attire occupying the ornamental throne dominating the bridge chuckled: "Ignore them, Espandor III is a planet unable to sustain organic lifeforms, its methane atmosphere will take care of our uninvited guests" Captain Unkriss was young for a captain in the Ultramar Navy. Even with his five decades of service the responsibility for a crew of more than 50.000 thousand souls still occupied his every waking thought. Even though he held absolute authority on this vessel he still deferred to Ultramar's true masters; the great Lords of Macragge.
"Set a course for the second moon of Emeriss, we have a relief force to deliver to the Schola Progenium" He commanded. "Ready the landing craft and put all gun crews on full alert. Inform Lord Ezerin that we will achieve orbit over Emeriss in two hours" As he relayed his orders dozens of officers rushed to their tasks and rows of specialized servitors slaved into ancient cogitator banks commenced the demanding task of translating the Captains wishes into supplications to Guisarmes sacred Machine Spirit. With a distinct tremor the vast plasma drives increased power and the kilometre and a half long hull of the frigate accelerated into a sweeping turn towards their new heading.
Emeris, Schola Progenium, central segment-secondary plasma generator facility
With a sad sputter the last droplets of promethium were expelled from Brother Marcus long-barrelled flamer leaving the fuel tank empty. The priest cursed in a decidedly non-devout fashion and discarded the now useless weapon. The narrow alley in front of him was clogged with still smouldering Tyranid corpses the air filled with the sickening smell of scorched carapace and roasted flesh, it had served as a perfect chokepoint to cook the near-mindless xenos in their vile alien shells.
"To perish screaming in the holy fire of the Emperor, that is the fate of the alien" Marcus mumbled, reciting a litany of Hatred. His already limited options were quickly running out. When the xenos had breached the outer perimeter Marcus had rushed to his chambers to retrieve his Eclessiarchy symbols: The book of Scripture, the flamer and the chain sword. Rallying a group of terrified clerks he had battled the xenos in the labyrinthine passages and walkways of the Academy. One after the other the defenders had been picked off, attacked and butchered until only Marcus was left. But the priest was a veteran of three decades of warfare embedded with the 305th Catachan Infantry. If there was one thing his time with the crazed deathworlders had taught him it was surviving against overwhelming odds. Besides, he mused, Catachans would probably see Tyranids as cute pets compared to the indigenous life forms of their home planet.
A bloodcurdling scream caught his attention. Judging by the pitch and intensity the xenos invaders had just killed another student nearby. Discarding the empty flamer, Marcus hefted his chain sword and moved swiftly to investigate. It wasn't long before he found the lifeless body of a young female student torn apart at the waist and covered in hideous wounds. The old priest made the sign of the Aquilla and vowed to avenge her death.
The skies of Emeriss
The Mk V Lucius Pattern Drop pod hurtled through the atmosphere at a speed that would reduce normal men to gibbering wrecks followed by a G-force induced coma at best. The austere and functional interior was packed with ten massive power armoured warriors bearing the proud ultramarine blue of their chapter, each seated in a protective harness. Unconcerned gazes made last minute checks on powerful bolt guns and additional supplies of ammo and grenades. A scarred veteran applied sacred oils and unguents to a massive gauntlet connected to his armour with a series of cables and pistons.
"Brother Sergeant we have reached the target area, estimated time to impact 30 seconds" said a heavily augmented space marine as his cybernetic eye whirred and clicked to focus on the trembling pictscreen.
"Primarch be praised brothers, brace for impact and prepare to deploy in standard assault pattern" Sergeant Ezerin of the Ultramarines 4th Company replied. The sergeant made a final visual inspection of his squad, nodding at each of his brother Space Marines as he made eye contact.
Every warrior in 7th squad had seen at least two decades of active duty and some like himself and the squads Techmarine bore the service studs denoting a century of continuous service in the XIII Legion. Brother Amalfi, the squads Heavy weapons specialist checked the protective casing on his Heavy Bolter and mouthed a prayer to the Emperor. The lights flashed and turned red as the Drop pods machine spirit conveyed the imminent completion of its task.
"Courage and Honour Brothers" the Ultramarine Sergeant intoned
"Courage and Honour!" the squad echoed.
Like a blazing comet the massive form of the drop pod hurtled through the sky over the Schola Progenium sending a shockwave of superheated air outwards from its trajectory. At the very last moment the incredibly powerful retro-thrusters ignited and slowed the craft to a speed that would still turn a normal man to boneless pulp but left its superhuman occupants rattled but alive. The Pod crashed into an elegantly tiled roof, bursting through to end up in the ruined remains of what was once a storage facility. A brood of Termagants approached the crash site swiftly but cautiously, firing controlled salvoes with their Flesh borers. With a hiss and the venting of pressurized air the hatches of the drop pod opened. Immediately the thunderous boom of the built-in Storm Bolter shattered the relative silence as it unleashed a torrent of mass-reactive bolts at the dozen Termagants. Half of the xenos died when the rounds ripped apart their bodies from the inside, the other half scattered to cover behind pieces of rubble and crumbling masonry.
"For Macragge and the Emperor!" with a bellowing war cry the Ultramarines charged from their transport, Sergeant Ezerin leading from the front with his Bolt pistol roaring and his Power Fist crackling with barely contained energy. With a few great bounds the sergeant scaled the rockcrete barrier the Termagants were using as cover and shot one of the creatures in the skull from point blank range. Two of the remaining Tyranids fired their bio weaponry at the sergeant but the frenzied beetles failed to penetrate the ceramite armour plating. With a powerful hook he smashed his power fist into the nearest Tyranid. The massive armoured gauntlet caved in the creature's torso, vaporizing blood and alien ichor with its built in disruptive field. Behind and next to the sergeant the rest of his squad were finishing off Tyranids at short range with accurate bursts of fire from their bolt guns. The remaining Termagant died as Ezerin caved in its head with a backhanded swipe of his power weapon.
"Form up into combat squads, squad 1 on me, squad 2 on Amalfi." "Primary objective Search and Destroy" Sergeant Ezerin said and the Space Marines quickly and efficiently split up in two 5 man squads and headed off in opposite directions.
A hallway, somewhere in the Academy
"Did you hear that?" Gloria said turning her head towards the roaring sound.
Shub paused midstride striving to make sense of the sound." It sounds like some form of engine or missile" Just as the sound was growing loud enough to hear without straining it suddenly flared sending thundering waves of noise across the Academy rooftops followed by a loud crash causing flecks of paint and dust to drift lazily from the ornamental ceilings to the floor.
"It sounds like someone crashed their shuttle into the Academy" Namuth corrected. "That's just great we finally get rescued and they fly our escape ship into the frekking Academy"
"Escape? Who said anything about escaping?" Gloria interjected. "We will fight to the last man, woman and child if need be to exterminate these xenos invaders" Her eyes shone with the barely contained zeal of the commissariat, which combined with her rather plump frame bouncing from the left foot to the right made for a rather comic effect.
Namuth scoffed: "You can fight all the damned aliens you want Glory-girl, I intend to make it out of here alive."
"You cowardly scum!" Gloria snarled as she aimed her las gun at Namuth standing right in front of her. "You are a disgrace to the Academy and the Empire, I should execute you for cowardice right now!"
Namuth laughed mockingly and stepped forward, towering over the much smaller girl: "You couldn't execute a proper grox sandwich you little bitch"
The las gun emitted a snapping sound raking the ground near the larger boy's feet with lasfire and causing Namuth to jump backwards like a whipped gretchin and promptly tripping and falling flat on his behind.
"By the authority granted to the commissariat by the Administratum I should sentence you to death for showing cowardice in the face of the enemy, Namuth Elgin." Gloria spoke quietly as she aimed the gun at Namuth "But we are fighting for our lives against the filthy xenos, so I will reserve judgement for a later time"
Shub sighed deeply. Namuth and Gloria had been as two quarrelling administratum clerks shut in a tiny room since their first day at the Academy. How the two of them had managed to make it this far without killing or maiming each other was a mystery. Still he wished they would set aside their differences in this situation. They had worse things to deal with.
Giving Namuth a meaningful stare and shrug of his shoulders Shub was about to lead the way when the unmistakable sound of bolter fire resounded from some distance away. The students rallied at the sound that could only mean the arrival of their saviours and moved towards the sound at a running pace.
As Shub rounded another corner in the labyrinthine complex he heard a gurgling sound behind him. Coming to a dead stop he turned around only to see Ilander being dragged backwards by what seemed like a larger serpentine version of a Hormagaunt. The creature had impaled the unfortunate boy with a pair of its scything talons and was already tearing into the lifeless body as it dragged Ilander into a nearby room. The others, alerted to their friend's demise shouted in dismay but were held back from pursuit by a shouted command from Shub:
"NO, we must leave him, he is already dead"
Gloria nodded grimly.
"Shub is right, our priority is to link up with the relief force."
The survivors, now reduced by one made their way through another abandoned corridor when suddenly the towering shape of an Astartes rounded the corner, enormous bolt gun held ready and his power armour covered with alien blood and ichor. After a moment four more of the giant soldiers appeared all equally armed and covered except for a single marine armed with a crackling power fist and bolt-pistol.
The students gasped, their mouths open in amazement. None of them had ever seen a Space Marine in the flesh, only the inspirational holo-vids and posters that depicted them as one-man armies capable of singlehandedly defeating the enemies of mankind.
The real thing was nothing like what they thought they had known. The four Space Marines were giants, with limbs the size of a grown man's torso. Their blue armour and helmet revealed nothing of their thoughts or intentions. Only the faint clicking of internal vox-systems betrayed the fact that they were communicating with each other.
Gloria was the first to regain her senses and stepped forward:" Hail heroes of Ultramar! We are grateful for your assistance" She said bowing deeply.
With a motion almost too fast to be tracked the lead Marine raised his massive Bolt-gun at the girl, startling her and preventing her from speaking any further. A second Marine produced an Auspex of some sorts and pointed it at the group of scared students, studying the pict-screen intently.
"They are free of taint Sergeant" the Marine said. As one the Astartes lowered their weapons. Sergeant Ezerin removed his helm and let his gaze fall upon the group of students.
"It is good to see that there are yet survivors, we had to be certain of your genetic purity, for the Xenos intruders foul the very air with their presence." The sergeant scanned the surroundings before replacing his helmet, the protective ceramite headgear reconnecting with the neck-seal with the hiss of escaping air.
"Follow us, we will gather survivors in the central dormitory of the Schola Progenium"
Shub stepped forward and addressed the Sergeant: "No disrespect intended Brother-Sergeant Ezerin, I have the utmost faith in the capabilities of a veteran of the Ultramarine 4th Company but the gathering point you propose is hard to defend. It has dozens of ventilation ducts and waste-disposal chutes that will provide easy access to the Tyranids."
The Ultramarine sergeant raised an eyebrow but allowed Shub to continue while the rest of his class merely boggled at his audacity to contradict an Astartes.
"The Schola Tertiary Armoury is only a few minutes away and has only one exit which is protected by a reinforced plas-steel door. If you place survivors there you will not have to spare any of your men to guard us from the inevitable attack."
Ezerin nodded briefly: "You are astute for one of your age, and knowledgeable about Ultramarine heraldry and hierarchy." The sergeant tapped his right pauldron bearing the High Gothic inscription of the 4th Company.
"Your tactical analysis is sound, we shall move to the armoury"
The five Ultramarines fanned out in a protective formation with the students at the centre and marched at a brisk pace.
Alek shot Shub a questioning look but the boy merely shrugged as if this was the most normal thing in the world for him.