Captum Ante Chapter 20

Dawn was just a glimmer on the horizon, a faint line of brightness promising a glorious day. The land stirred under the promise of that dawn, birds singing their morning chorus and people groggily rolling out of beds. On farms across the rich lands cattle bumped up against feeding troughs and poultry crowed loudly. It was a perfect rural scene, beautiful in its simplicity, spoilt only by one thing: the massed roar of vehicle engines.

Across the wide, open plains an armoured spearhead was barrelling forwards, cutting across the ground in a straight line, ignoring all roads and signposts. They charged at full off-road speed, crushing and smashing anything that got in their way. Wooden gates, signposts and barbed wire fences were obliterated under their weight, contemptuously ignored as the war machines rumbled by. Meanwhile their potent weapons constantly scoured the land for threats but found none; their advance so far had been unopposed.

The armoured spearhead was a mighty punch to the guts of Nordlund, a hammer blow that would cripple their military leadership in one blow. At the heart of the formation rolled a trio of Rhinos, top hatches open so the Tactical and Assault Squads within could fire out. Flanking them were a pair of Predator Destructors, turrets rotating endlessly whilst a trio of Land Speeders floated alongside, primed and ready to dash into action. At the back of the formation was a single Whirlwind, its rocket artillery held ready to fire. Yet greatest of all was the magnificent sight of a Land Raider, the 'Pride of Lujan' most mighty and revered machine in the entire force.

Inside young Arvael sat in his Scout armour. He was clinging to his seat, trying not to be thrown off by the jostling and bouncing of the heavy vehicle. It was a claustrophobic and noisy environment, filled with the grinding of treads and the roar of the blessed engine. Despite all that Arvael was marvelling, the Land Raider was the product of ancient STC designs and its superior workmanship showed in every nut and bolt. He had trained in Rhinos but they could not be compared to this. The troop bay was spacious and efficiently designed; the driver was discretely tucked away to one side, along with the commander/gunner. There was a bank of pict-screens showing the exterior, opposite a rack of Bolters. There was also a small shrine and the arcane mechanism of the vehicle's Machine Spirit, which was festooned with purity seals.

Impressive as it was these details paled in comparison to the vehicles' fighting capacity. The machine's armour was ridiculously durable, layered with Adamantium and ceramite, providing as much protection as a Baneblade's but at one third the weight. The armaments were potent too; a pair of twin-godhammer pattern lascannons and a twin heavy bolter, nothing the locals possessed could hope to match that.

Arvael was awed to be allowed to travel in one, even if he was only a passenger. Sadly he would not be permitted to get out and fight, unlike the other occupants. He glanced at the assembled Space Marines, seeing Captain Toran standing proudly in his plate. He was surrounded by his Command Squad, minus Jediah. They were grizzled and hard-bitten warriors, wearing their scars proudly and eager for the fray. Standing with them was Chaplain Wrethan with his Crozius held ready and Apothecary Memnos, who was test firing his Narthecium, checking the action of its pneumatic bolt.

Memnos saw Arvael staring and frowned as he said, "Pick up your jaw lad, your mouth is hanging so wide that it's scraping on the floor."

Arvael realised that he was staring and hurriedly glanced away, looking over to the Captain who was saying, "Land Speeders report, any indications we've been detected?"

After a moment he turned to Chaplain Wrethan and said, "All clear so far."

Wrethan chewed his jaw and said, "That won't last long, they have to know that their auspex net has been compromised. Only a fool wouldn't suspect an attack."

"We had better be quick then," declared the Captain, "We need to hit them hard, send them reeling and get into the heart of the base. Reaching that underground bunker is everything; we have to eliminate it before they can issue a launch signal."

He was interrupted as the tank commander, Brother Tyreo, called out, "Captain, watch posts ahead."

Instantly Toran barked, "Halt here. Land Speeders annihilate those outposts. Fast and hard Brothers, don't let them get the word out!"

As the Land Raider ground to a halt Arvael peered at the pict-screens and saw the trio of skimmers dart away, moving at the speed of an aircraft but only a few feet off the ground. They would hit the watch posts before they even knew they were under attack and clear the way for the attack to commence. Meanwhile Toran was ordering, "All squads make ready, Whirlwind prepare suppression barrage, assault squad dismount!"

Arvael looked at the pict-screens and saw the various units preparing, gathering themselves to leap into action. He saw the Assault squad clambering out of their Rhino, their jump packs making the action awkward and slow. That was why they always attacked on foot, relying upon their jump packs instead of mechanical assistance. As they prepared Toran turned to the Chaplain and said, "Father Wrethan, would you be so good as to address the Company."

Wrethan opened his vox link to all the squads and began, "Brothers, today we are once more called to war. The Divine Emperor has decreed that this world shall re-join His glorious Imperium and we shall be the unstoppable instruments of His will. See the foe before you, they may look like weak and cowering mortals but do not let that false veneer stay your wrath. These curs deny the Emperor's sovereignty; they deny the Imperium's Manifest Destiny to rule the galaxy. Hate them; hate them as you would the foulest Xeno! Now go forward to victory Storm Heralds: for Him on Terra!"

Arvael's hearts soared to hear the declaration and his pride swelled to be part of so noble a Brotherhood. More than ever he yearned to be clad in Ceramite armour, to charge into battle as a full Initiate, side by side with a squad of valiant heroes. But then he sighed, that was no longer his fate. He was destined to walk a different path, that of the Librarian. Such brotherhood would never be his.

Suddenly Toran put his hand to his vox bead and declared, "That's it, watch post destroyed. All units on my order: ATTACK!"

The Pride of Lujan roared into life and Arvael was flung sideways as the Land Raider accelerated hard. The floor shook beneath them but the Space Marines seemed unperturbed as they smoothly donned their helms. Arvael looked at the Pict-screens and saw long contrails descending, the first salvo from the Whirlwind which had stayed behind. The rockets flashed downwards and Apothecary Memnos growled, "Come on curs, get out of your beds and see the dawn turn red."

There was a flash of light and then a series of fireballs erupted over the base, blowing apart flimsy buildings and scattering shrapnel everywhere. The foe was caught completely off-guard and Arvael saw tiny images of bodies sent flying and flames roaring everywhere. Again the rockets descended in a second salvo, sowing anarchy and bedlam everywhere, then the Tanks hit the perimeter. With a thunderous roar the Pride of Lujan chewed through the outer barbed wire fence, flattening it with ease. The lascannons discharged with their distinctive snap-roar and Arvael saw a pair of gun nests disintegrate before their wrath. There was no time to celebrate though for Brother Tyreo called, "Tank obstacles ahead!"

Toran roared, "Break through them!"

Everybody gripped onto a handhold and Memnos muttered to Arvael, "Brace yourself lad."

The concrete obstacles loomed ahead in the pict-screen, a line of bulwarks right in the Space Marine's path. They were huge blocks of rock and steel, designed to keep armoured vehicles at bay. They were the best this world could produce and would have halted a herd of grox. But set against a Land Raider they achieved absolutely nothing.

Arvael felt his whole world lift up and slam back down as the mighty machine smashed into the obstacles, its weight and power built to a standard that the poor local builders could not have dreamt of. The Pride of Lujan crushed the obstacles under its treads and carried on, contemptuously breaking them into dust under its treads. Rock and steel shards spilled over the flanks of the tank, bouncing off its Adamantium hide but doing nothing more than scratching the paintwork.

Arvael glanced at the pict-screens and saw Predators and Rhinos following in Pride of Lujan's wake, pouring through the gap it had created with autocannons and heavy bolters blazing. Everywhere there was fire and destruction, the locals running to and fro in bewildered confusion. Arvael saw a flash pass over the screens as a Land Speeder dashed past, a torrent of shells screaming from its nose-mounted assault cannon. Then a flurry of dark shapes crashing down as the Assault squad fell from the skies, chainswords carving a bloody path through the foe.

Wrethan yelled, "We're in, central building ahead."

Toran barked into the vox, "Prepare to dismount, Assault and first Tactical squad with me, we must reach that bunker fast. Wrethan, take the second tactical squad and form a rear-guard with the vehicles, keep the foe from massing behind us."

Everyone braced and Arvael went to stand up but Wrethan turned his head and growled, "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

Arvael's hearts fell and he protested feebly, "But…"

Wrethan barked angrily, "You will stay in this Land Raider, is that understood?"

"Yes, Chaplain" answered Arvael forlornly.

Wrethan turned back as the Pride of Lujan ground to a halt and the assault ramp slammed down. Captain Toran led the charge with a furious roar leaving Arvael behind as the ramp whirred shut. The novice was left in the echoing interior of the Land Raider with nothing to do but watch the pict-screens. It was galling to him to be left behind, he wanted to be out there fighting and taking action. He wanted to measure himself against the greatest heroes and test himself to the limit. To be left behind was more than humiliating, it was an offence to everything an Astartes stood for.

At the back of Arvael's mind a tiny voice whispered: he should be out there. He should be fighting as proper Storm Herald. Without that Psy-dampener he could unleash power like these mortals had never seen. He could stride in the midst of battle, protecting his Brothers with Kine shields, throwing foes away with a mere gesture and upturning enemy tanks with a mere thought. Enemies would be crushed before him and he would save the day single-handed. If he just took off that Psy-dampener he could become more than powerful, he could become glorious, a Lord of War unleashed.

Arvael snapped his mind back to reality with a surge of self-recrimination, these thoughts were beneath him. He had sworn an oath and he would not break it. Arvael realised that he was really starting to dislike this part of his mind, the part that wanted him to break his word. He resolved to confess these thoughts later on, doubtless he would be assigned penance and self-flagellation for his impurity but perhaps that would put a stop to the notions.

Arvael was shaken out of his self-reproach as the Land Raider shook like a bell and Brother Tyreo swore, "Warp hells!"

"What is it?" yelled Arvael.

Tyreo called back, "We're being flanked on all sides, the locals have rallied and they have rocket-propelled grenades. Armour is holding but they're getting too close!"

"Where's the rear-guard?" called Arvael.

"Busy!" cried Tyreo, "We can't cover all the angles with the forward Heavy Bolters. Quickly, I need you up top to use the Storm Bolter!"

"I can't," shouted Arvael, "I'm not allowed to leave the Land Raider."

Tyreo actually looked over at him incredulously and said as if the novice were an idiot, "It's a pintle-mounted Storm Bolter. You can fire it from the hatch without ever leaving the vehicle."

Arvael's jaw dropped for a second and then he was moving, ripping off his restraints and jumping onto the firing step. As he opened the hatch he set his face in determination, this was his chance to prove that he was yet a Storm Herald.