The Skeins of Fate

by Aphrael1742

The tales of the eldar tell of the Rhana Dandra, the final battle when eldar and Chaos will meet on the field of battle and where both will perish. But all stories must come to an end. Some of the eldar, however, would much rather write the concluding pages than read it as it unfolds.

21. Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

Illiawe did not sleep that night. While it was not yet, strictly speaking, necessary for her to do so, sleep would have been greatly welcome. As the hours wore on, however, there was still no move to pull the troops back into the relative safety of the fortress. Illiawe paced nervously before Sadeus' Chimera, glancing toward the fortress now and again. As much as Illiawe would have liked to sink into her meditations, it was a serenity that she could not afford. And so she watched the horizon for signs of movement, cycling through her mask's various filters. The eerie silence was almost total, and that made Illiawe even more nervous.

Then, when the first light of dawn shone over the horizon, Illiawe finally saw movement. Thousands of tyranid warriors came over the empty horizon. And that made Illiawe even more wary. Where the corpses of tyranids had littered the horizon before, there was now nothing there but debris from the surroundings.

She did not, however, have time to think about that. Shouts came from the humans as they, too, detected the tyranids, mingling with sharp detonations as the mines laid down the previous night exploded.

But the warriors were nothing more than distractions. A small tremor ran through the ground, and Illiawe gathered her powers. The humans around her were oblivious to it, but Illiawe felt the ground shake through the soles of her feet. The vibrations grew steadily more pronounced, and Illiawe sank into her warmask, turning to the teachings of the Howling Banshees rather than that of the seers. The shift was jarring as Illiawe surrendered the stark clarity of mind for the keen awareness of the Howling Banshees. The continuous rumble of the human guns and the many distractions of the battlefield faded away, replaced by the vibrations that ran under the ground as Illiawe concentrated upon it.

From somewhere beside her, there was excited shouts and a rapid stream of barked orders. The equipment of the humans, it appeared, had detected the underground movements and, though they were tracking it just as Illiawe was, they knew just as well as she did that their rifles were unlikely to be of much use. Their officers continued barking orders, keeping the rifles of the soldiers focused on the tyranid scouts and trying, in their noisy and clumsy manner, to draw their attention away from the tunneling creature.

Illiawe released the Howling Banshee warmask and channeled her powers through her runes. A tingling feeling ran down her spine, and her runes started to glow a dull red. The ground a few feet in front of them heaved, and then it exploded, sending dirt and broken barricades flying out in all directions. A giant serpentine head shot out of the hole, its mouth agape, revealing rows of hooked teeth. Illiawe thrust her right arm out, sending bright bolts of lightning shooting at the creature. A moment later, the guns behind her fired, raking the tyranid creature with thunderous explosions. It roared hoarsely and reared back, and a sickly green acid spewed out, engulfing the tanks closest to it. The chassis of the vehicles bubbled and melted away, the crews inside screaming in agony. The serpentine head swept from side to side, and there were a number of explosions as vehicles exploded. The human vehicles turned their guns around, pummeling the serpentine tyranid with shells.

Then the tyranid warriors struck the trench, swarming into it. All sense of coordination among the humans evaporated. Contradicting orders were shouted and lasfire flashed wildly throughout the trench.

Human aircraft came swooping down out of the sky, their engines whining. Clusters of missiles slammed into the serpentine tyranid, which turned on the aircrafts, bolts of plasma spewing from its mouth.

Illiawe drew in her will, waiting for the right moment. She reached out to the humans in the vehicles, planting the best firing solutions directly into their thoughts. The vehicles fired again, the shots striking at the weak points in the carapace of the monstrous creature. The guns fired volley after volley into the creature, until it began thrashing about from the pain. It moved, sliding back into the safety of the underground tunnel. When only its head remained, Illiawe unleashed her will, striking at the eyes and agape jaws of the creature with warp fire. The creatures writhed one last time before falling still. The human tanks turned their guns around, but it was too late. The tyranid warriors had reached the trench, flailing about them with their wicked claws. Behind them came more tyranid creatures, these with large organic guns on the edges of their limbs. The guns spat, sending bolts of plasma into the human tank line. Behind them came lumbering creatures, each as large as a tank.

"Volorus!" Illiawe shouted into her vox unit. "Get Uriel to fire on those tyranids out there now, or we will get overrun!" She drew her sword and struck at the tyranids in the trench with arcing bolts of lightning.

There were bright flashes on the horizon as balls of fire engulfed the tyranids there and the shockwaves blasted at her, but Illiawe paid little attention to them. She parried a frenzied slash from a warrior-creature and severed its limb before taking its head off. She was at the edge of the trench now, and there was fighting all around her, humans wrestling with tyranids with bayonets and combat knives. She found herself fighting alongside Sadeus at one point. The colonel had leapt forward to fend the tyranids off with a roaring chainsword in one hand and a laspistol in the other. White lightning flashed across the surface of a barrier of energy that surrounded him, and his plain coat was stained with black blood.

The chaos of the combat drew them eventually away, Illiawe lashed out with her lightning again and again. Over the sound of the battle, Illiawe heard Palicia's voice ring out. She moved toward it, blasting at any tyranid that came too close. She found the commissar standing before the tanks. She had managed to round up three score of Guardsmen and formed them into lines, coordinating their fire with sharp commands, rallying the other Guardsmen with shouts and emphasizing it with the loud crack of her pistol. She nodded at Illiawe, acknowledging her presence before returning to her duties. Heavy weaponry were brought to bear, tearing into the tyranids.

But there were too many of the creatures, and, despite the best efforts of the humans, the tyranids drew steadily closer, the green-clad forms of stranded soldiers disappearing under a flurry of tooth and claw. Illiawe gritted her teeth and sent waves of energy blasting out at the tyranids, burning row upon row of them to a cinder. Lightning arced out from the tip of her sword, jumping from one creature to another.

A tyranid warrior leapt at her, snarling and with spittle flying from its jaws. Illiawe swung her sword, parried, feinting, and impaled the creature on her blade. There was a scream off to her side as another of the creatures tackled a Guardsman to the ground. The human pushed back with his rifle, managing to keep its snapping jaws an inch away from his throat, until its wildly thrashing claws turned the rifle into two separate chunks of useless metal with a single deft swipe. The Guardsman jammed the pieces of his rifle at the underside of the tyranid's head.

Illiawe flicked her fingers at it, throwing the creature back into the charging tyranids, dimly aware of the fact that Palicia was already screaming for the Guardsman to get back on his feet. Something latched onto her back and the smell of rotting meat drifted to her nose. Illiawe wrinkled her nose and thrust her elbow backward in a futile attempt to dislodge the creature. The skeins tugged at her mind and she brought her sword in front of her, blocking the claw aimed for her throat. There was the sound of ripping cloth and Illiawe threw the creature over her hip. It rolled, moving to get up, and she impaled it on the tip of her sword. An errant breeze ran across the battlefield, and a lock of hair fluttered at the edge of her vision, and only then did Illiawe realize that the human cloak was gone from around her shoulders, ripped away when she had thrown the tyranid off.

The Guardsmen stared at her in shock until Palicia's shouts reminded them of their duty. The woman looked for a second at Illiawe. Her lips were stretched in a thin line and, though her eyes were surprised, she did not show it. Their eyes locked for a moment, then Palicia turned her attention back to the tyranids.

Then the silver-clad Gray Knights were there, accompanied by the black armored Deathwatch. Guigrim led them, cutting through the tyranids, his arm-mounted weapons firing. Guigrim paused for just a single instant when he saw Illiawe, as did the Deathwatch. She shrugged and pulled the cowl of the shadowseer costume over her head, clipped the mask onto her face, and activated the suit's holofields.

There was a massive rumbling in the air, fire came from the sky, explosions raking the tyranid swarm. Three dozen human planes slowed to hover a few feet above the ground. From those planes, the black armored forms of the Sisters of Battle emerged, jumping out to land among the tyranid swarm, swords and guns already cutting into the creatures. More of the Battle Sisters dropped into the space cleared out by them, and they pushed forward, dousing the ravening tyranids in fire.

The arrival of the Orders Militant provided some much needed support, and, together, they struck back at the tyranids, cutting them down by the score. At last, the battleground grew silent, save for the groaning of the wounded and dying.

Illiawe looked around her. There were fires everywhere, billowing from the burnt-out husks of human tanks and ammunition that had detonated. The green-armored form of the Guardsmen and the red and white tyranids lay all over the ground. Here and there among the dead was a black armored form of a Deathwatch soldier.

There was a commotion behind her and Illiawe curiously turned to look. The human vehicles were moving, reversing in pairs and trios to the north gate of the fortress. Sadeus came running up to them.

"We are pulling back into the fortress," he said in a breathless voice.

"Are you all right?" Palicia asked him. The colonel had an ugly looking gash under his left cheek, and his left arm hung limply by his side.

"I'm fine," he replied flippantly. "A bug fell on me, is all."

"Come again?"

"A bug tried to jump on me," Sadeus explained. "An autocannon round tore its guts out, then the rest fell on me. My forcefield was down at that time, so I got crushed."

"I think your arm's broken."

"I'll get someone to look at it later. The governor wants us to pull back into the fortress. I guess he and that other inquisitor managed to shout down Chiro."

"You will not speak ill of an inquisitor, Sadeus," Palicia snapped.

"Come now, Palicia. I know that you don't think too highly of him, either."

"Chiro still holds the title of an inquisitor of the Holy Inquisition," Palicia said disapprovingly.

"I'm likely to call him by other titles myself," Sadeus replied.

Then a black armored form came up behind Illiawe, and she felt rather than saw the barrel of a weapon raised to her head. Illiawe spun around, there was the sound of metal striking metal, and a pistol went off, the bolt whizzing harmlessly into the air. Guigrim was there, and he had a Deathwatch Marine in a firm grip, one arm around the black armored man's neck and another clutching at the man's right wrist. Metal scraped against metal as Guigrim tightened his grip around the other man's wrist, the black vambrace actually crumpling slightly as the two armored warriors struggled for the aim of the pistol. Then the Deathwatch Marine dropped the weapon, his left arm shot up, using Guigrim's arm to spin himself around so that he faced the silver armored human. His face was mottled with barely suppressed fury.

"Why do you protect it?" the black armored warrior burst out.

Guigrim shifted his grip, his gauntleted hand coming down on the top of the other warrior's black breastplate. He pulled the man close, shoving his face into the other human's. "The xenos has helped greatly in our fight against the tyranids. She has helped save many worlds. Show a little gratitude."

"It is doubtlessly following its own agenda."

"Perhaps, but the survival of many more worlds depend upon her survival. Should you take issue with her, bring it to Inquisitor Volorus. Harm her, however, and he will judge you most severely."

The black armored warrior pushed Guigrim away. He looked at the silver armor of the Gray Knight, and his eyes narrowed. "Which chapter are you from? I do not recognize your heraldry."

"The Silver Crusaders," Guigrim said promptly, and Illiawe resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands. "Descended from the Ultramarines themselves."

"I have not heard of your chapter," the warrior said pugnaciously.

"You would not have. We combat the tyranid threat, tirelessly and in secret. Few have heard of our chapter, but many respected members of the Ordo Xenos have sought our aid."

The black armored warrior scowled at him, his scarred face contorting horribly. He glared at Guigrim for a second before walking off.

"Well, then," Palicia said after a moment of silence. "I'm glad that's sorted out." Her voice was casual, as though talking about the weather. She looked at Illiawe. "Normally, I'd be asking a lot more questions, but, if an inquisitor trusts you enough, I am not going to argue. Besides, you did save a lot of Guardsmen."

"Are you getting soft on me, Palicia?" Sadeus asked jokingly.

"Not likely." She looked around at the soldiers near them. "Get moving!" she screamed at them. "We have to get in the fortress before the bugs come back."

Guigrim and Illiawe left them to themselves, looking back out over the trench for the tyranids.

"Thank you," Illiawe said to him.

Guigrim shrugged. "The inquisitor would not be too happy if I allowed you to get killed. I don't really understand the exact purpose of our current objectives, but, from what Inquisitor Volorus and the librarians told me, there is more at stake here than an eldar's desire for an object."

"You are as transparent as glass, Guigrim. You are more concerned about the information that we could provide you regarding Chaos, are you not?"

"Perhaps. I think that I am at least entitled to some explanation, however. Why are you after this particular artifact?"

Illiawe became wary. Should the humans learn about the real value that Spiorad was to the eldar, it was almost inevitable that they would find some way to get a better deal. To say too little, however, was to arouse suspicion. Illiawe shrugged, trying to make her movements appear nonchalant. "Spiorad is an object of great power. Eventually, it would fall into the possession of those who would use it as a weapon and inflict great destruction upon his enemies."

"Then we must destroy it."

Illiawe glanced at him. "You do not understand. The spirit boxes cannot be destroyed, no more than you can destroy a daemon prince. They will always return. Even if you could, Spiorad calls to those who would use it. The thought of destroying it becomes reprehensible. It draws ever greater danger to its owner and all that he cares for until he is finally forced to use it. Then it feeds upon his soul until he is but a withered husk."

"We have been trained for such things. We can at least banish it."

"Then it will unleash a great calamity upon you when you do."

"I am prepared to give my life if need be."

"You will give more than simply your life. Nevertheless, I am not prepared to do so."

"You do not have the will to do what is necessary."

"That may be so. But I know that this is not a necessity. We have ways to contain Spiorad such that it may never bring harm. This is what we are going to do."

It took only an hour for the Guardsmen to pull back into the fortress and take up positions within its walls. The survival of the humans depended greatly upon the stout walls of the fortress, and so they had a great deal of motivation. Illiawe and Guigrim made their way to the command center at the heart of the fortress. Volorus and Belaro were still at the holographic map, watching the progress of the tyranids at other parts of the planet. Guigrim and Illiawe went through the heavy doors of the room, the Astartes' armor gaining them immediate entry and unobstructed passage to Volorus.

The inquisitor looked up as they neared, and he nodded in greeting.

"How did Noshan and the Marines do?"

"Relatively well. Belaro here got some of the factories that make grenades and converted them a little and are shipping the weapons over here. The Marines spent the whole night planting bombs the size of their helmets all throughout the tunnels. From what I understand, the tyranids started scrambling around in pure panic the first few times that happened. After that, they spread out all throughout the tunnels, and things got trickier, but the Marines still managed a couple more trips, since the tyranids had to spread themselves out too thin, what with the first few bombs killing a lot of them and all. But that didn't last, of course. We have taken out their ships, but the tyranids appear to be multiplying all the same."

Illiawe tilted her head. "Are you sure?"

Volorus nodded. "Almost certain."

Illiawe quickly sunk her mind into the skeins. "I see," she finally breathed. "It looks like the tyranids have managed to grow some hives that perform the same tasks as their hiveships do. These are located all throughout the planet."

"Processing biomass and producing tyranids?"

Illiawe nodded. "I think that I have a plan, but I will need to talk to Noshan first."

"He's over in that corner resting." He turned back to the displays. "There is nothing much that we could do about those hives. However, we should see if we could try to hold out for a little longer. The rest of the fleet is still unavailable, unfortunately. The rest of the planet is still infested with tyranids." He turned to Belaro. "That is another problem. Even if we manage to kill all the tyranids, the rest of the planet's already infected. It's almost impossible to clear it out."

Belaro smiled. "Let me worry about that. I know a Rogue Trader who claims that he has gotten his hands on something that cleans the infestation left behind by tyranids right off the planet without needing to blow it up. He's offering a rather handsome price if I would agree to let him test it out when we are done here. I can take that money and rebuild the spaceports on this planet, and even have a little left over when I'm done."

Volorus laughed shortly. "It always come back to that, doesn't it?"

"Money? Of course. A whole star system is very expensive to run, inquisitor."

"What would you do if it doesn't work?"

"Then we'll go back to burning it up with fire, both the normal and psychic kind, and get a few Ecclesiarchal priests to clean and sanctify the ground. It'll be a bit more expensive, but it's still cheaper than building whole spaceports in space."

Volorus shook his head. "Anyway, those other worlds in this system are still in operation. We have orbital superiority, so shipping a few extra guns over would not be a problem. It's finding the crew for them that's the problem."

Illiawe shrugged. "Just teach a few humans which button to press to fire, and how to load the guns. They do not have to know how to aim. The tyranids are hardly difficult to hit when they start charging, and the humans can learn as they go."

"It's a little more complicated than that."

Illiawe shrugged. "That has always been a rather large flaw in humans."

Volorus ignored that. "There is really not much else that we can do except to wait and pray."

Illiawe nodded. She turned away, looking around the room, until she saw Noshan standing by himself in a corner. She approached him. "Noshan," she called out.

"Yes?"

"There is something that I need your help with."

"Of course, farseer."

"Where is your psyker entourage? We will need their help with this."

"I could have them here within the hour."

"Good. I will wait for them to arrive."

Noshan nodded and his eyes grew distant for a moment. "What is this all about?" he asked Illiawe.

"I took a look into the skeins. The tyranids usually send biomass up to their hiveships for processing. They have created something similar here on the planet. If we manage to kill it, we will have a greater chance of surviving. At the very least, it means that we would not have to kill the tyranids again every so often."

Noshan nodded. "This can't be the only one."

"It is not. However, it is the only one that we will have to worry about first. If this turns out well, then, perhaps, we might consider targeting the others. Will you be able to acquire sealed suits?"

Noshan nodded.

"Good. When I next meet you, have them ready. One more thing. Do not tell Volorus of the details. I fear he will object too vocally."

"Volorus has the utmost faith in us. He will not object if we were to take no one else in our strike."

"Tell him if you must, Noshan. Just make sure that he does not send any troops out. We do not have enough soldiers here as it is."

"You are very concerned about that, aren't you?"

"Of course I am. That is why I am repeating myself so often."

They met at the top of the fortress, in an out of the way place along the parapets. There were artillery guns there as large as any super heavy vehicle, surrounded by dozens of soldiers.

"Do not move through the Warp," Illiawe said, fighting back a sigh, "let the Warp move you."

"Sorry," Noshan apologized. "It is a strange concept. We've never done it this way before."

"That is because humans refuse to think that there might be other ways to achieve something. Try it again."

Noshan nodded, and he disappeared, reappearing at the far end of the parapet.

"Finally," Illiawe muttered.

"It is much easier this way," Noshan commented as he sidled back.

"Of course," Illiawe said flippantly. "You would come to appreciate that when you start to move through obstacles." She motioned to the other psykers. "When you have all practiced with moving yourself, try it with something heavy and cumbersome. You might want to perfect it. If possible, I would want to find this creature and kill it by tonight."

"Tonight?" Noshan asked. "We have only just started."

"Why put it off? It would be relatively quick. If we combine our psychic energies, we should be able to kill even a bio-titan."

"Should?"

"I like to be cautious."

"I will talk to Volorus if I were you. He might be able to provide you with a better alternative. Some sort of weapon, perhaps."

"I would rather leave Volorus out of this."

"Then I will ask him for it."

Illiawe squinted at him. "On second thought, allow me to do so. You might slip up and reveal things you should not."

Noshan nodded. "We will be waiting here." He glanced up at the sky. "It is not yet noon. You have got plenty of time."

Illiawe sighed and went away to find Volorus.

Another man was consulting with Volorus when Illiawe stepped into the command center. He was barely out of his youth, with fiery red hair and a temper to match. He was flamboyantly dressed, his attire rather similar to Uriel's. Where Uriel wore it with a certain degree of dignity, however, the ornate robes made this man look almost like a child who had stumbled into a particularly long piece of draping and had subsequently torn the furnishing off its rails. He was shouting when Illiawe entered the room, his voice audible even before she had stepped through the doors. Those around him gave him a wide berth, more due to the fact that his arms were gyrating about him like a broken windmill than any semblance of respect. Volorus, to his credit, bore the youth's tirade with a tolerant, if mildly annoyed, expression. Governor Belaro, on the other hand, was far from mildly annoyed. He had a deep scowl on his heavily lined face, and his expression grew darker as the seconds passed. He was careful, however, to keep his expression from Chiro – not that it was really necessary. Chiro appeared too absorbed in his own rantings to pay much attention to anything that was happening around him.

Then the young human caught sight of Illiawe. "You!" he practically screamed. "What are you doing here? I should have you shot. Volorus might be willing to tolerate your foul presence, but I am not! Get out of my command room!" He gestured wildly at the door.

"You must be Inquisitor Chiro," Illiawe said mildly.

"He is," Volorus said. "I do apologize. Our two races have never had the best relationship, but, as you can see, some of us are rather more vocal about that fact. Frequently and very loudly, in this case."

Inquisitor Chiro was still shouting. Illiawe idly wondered why he had not yet unholstered his weapon.

Volorus moved away from Chiro, sighing and rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Unfortunately, his rank protects him to a certain degree, so you would just have to bear with that like the rest of us, I'm afraid."

"How did he become an inquisitor?"

"The title is not given only to suitable candidates, unfortunately. There are criteria to meet, of course, but sometimes, zealotry counts for a lot in the selection process. Usually, there's someone around to rein those like him in. It looks like I've been selected this time." He shrugged. "We all started out in a similar way. He'll learn and, hopefully, mellow out. The Imperium cannot survive on idealism alone." Volorus shook his head. "Were you after something?"

Illiawe nodded. "The bombs that the Marines have been using to destroy the tunnels would not be powerful enough to kill the hive. However, if we could get something larger, Noshan and the human psykers would be able to translocate it near the hive."

"A really large explosive? I suppose that I could spare a few shells." He rubbed his cheek. "Perhaps the melta warheads from a Basilisk would be powerful enough. Anything bigger and you might not be able to move it. If we modify it a little, it would make a powerful bomb. Give me some time to think of something. I'll have your weapon by sunset."

When the tyranids struck once more, they did not bother charging across the ground as they had before. Instead, the ground just a few feet before the fortress heaved and burst upward, and the serpentine creatures came spilling out. Behind them came tyranid warriors. The human ships fired shells that burrowed into the ground, blasting at the tyranids there. The creatures scaled the walls of the fortress, often using the corpses of the other tyranids to aid them.

The defenders pulled back into the fortress, making use of its corridors to funnel the tyranids. When the attack was finally over, corpses, both human and tyranid, lay strewn within the halls of the fortress. Systematically, the humans went about the corridors, vaporizing the bodies with meltaguns or throwing them off the front of the fortress to be burned.

There were three more of such attacks that day, and the hallways soon became filled with the groans of the wounded that lined its walls. Volorus' face was grim when Illiawe met him just as the sun was going down.

"We have barely enough men left to man the defenses," he reported. "Most of the vehicles and artillery platforms are damaged in one way or another. Thankfully, there are enough vehicles left to hold the courtyards and the main corridors, and the main gates appear to be holding." He sighed. "I have your weapon, if you want to have a look at it. It's sort of like a larger version of a vortex grenade, so you'll have enough time to get out before it detonates."

"How big is it?"

"Not very. The governor pointed out that we haven't seen too many bio-titans or even the larger tyranids yet, so this hive can't be too large. That's helpful, because it'll be easier for you to move the bomb."

Illiawe nodded. "What is Chiro trying to do now?" she asked, nodding toward where the inquisitor was in a heated conversation with Belaro.

"If you can't guess by this point, you're pretty dull."

Illiawe rolled her eyes. "Is he still trying to bombard the planet?"

"The latest attack has given him an excuse to bring it up again. Honestly, I would agree with him if you weren't so sure that we will win here."

"What was that you said?" Illiawe asked slyly.

"You heard me. This tyranid swarm is quite small, considering their usual size, but we are wasting a lot of lives here. I don't think that Belaro is going to allow him to continue for much longer, though. He doesn't have much in the way of humor, and Chrio's tantrums weren't too funny to begin with. Come to think of it, I should really see if we can do something about the recruitment process of the Inquisition. Chiro's probably a particularly extreme example, but it really is time for the inquisitorial orders to drop the fanaticism and take in more level-headed people." He muttered angrily under his breath. "I guess we should see if Belaro needs my help."

"I will wait here."

"Good idea." He went to join the other two men. Chiro postulated wildly for a while, not noticing that Belaro's mouth had drawn into a thin line or that he had developed a twitch at his neck.

"Enough!" the governor suddenly roared. For a man so advanced in his age, he had a surprisingly loud voice. All movement in the command center came to a sudden stop as heads turned in the direction of the three men. A heavy tension hung in the air. One does not threaten an inquisitor without reprisal, whether instantaneous or deferred, and Chiro looked like the sort of inquisitor with a very long memory. Belaro, however, did not really seem to care. He jabbed his finger angrily at Chiro. "Your refusal to draw back into the fortress has cost many lives today, my lord." The last words he spoke with barely concealed irony. "Their deaths is a pointless waste."

The inquisitor's expression grew first shocked, then outraged. "I will have you executed for this!" he screamed, his face becoming, if anything, even redder. Illiawe inched closer to them.

"You have no jurisdiction over me in this matter here," Belaro said in a quiet voice.

"I'm an inquisitor!"

"You're not the only one," Volorus said. He looked around him. "Somebody bring me a vox unit."

Several were brought forward, the humans stumbling over each other in their haste to comply. Volorus selected one of them and jabbed at it a few times.

"What is it?" Uriel's voice came over the unit's speakers.

"Please identify yourself," Volorus asked for the benefit of Chiro.

"I am Inquisitor Uriel of the Ordo Hereticus."

"And are you aware of the situation here, Uriel?"

"I am, yes."

Volorus looked pointedly at Chiro. "We have a matter here that we would like your input in."

"Of course."

"Chiro here is planning to execute Governor Belaro for criticizing his tactical competency. The point of contention is whether Chiro has the authority to do that."

"Under normal circumstances, yes. This matter, however, falls under the jurisdiction of the Ordo Hereticus more than the Ordo Xenos. Unless I agree on the matter, the man who orders the governor's execution is technically a traitor to the Imperium, now or in a few decades time – assuming that the governor does not commit any acts of treason, of course."

"And do you find fault with Belaro's statement?"

"I do find Inquisitor Chiro to be a rather poor example of a servant of the Emperor, actually. The waste of his troops traded precious Imperium resources for pride. I am willing to give him the benefit of doubt, however, and think that his blunder is a result of him simply falling short of the ideal that we all struggle to achieve rather than any deliberate malice toward the Divine Emperor or His Most Holy Imperium."

Volorus smiled beafitically at Chiro. "Well, there you have it. The Inquisition does not always adhere to the rules, but appearances must be kept up, at least. The least that we could do is to obey technicalities, wouldn't you say?"

Inquisitor's Chiro's eyes were bulging, but he said nothing. Then he stormed away.

Volorus shook his head. "I have half a mind to beat some sense into that kid."

"Only half?" Belaro asked in mock surprise. "I see now that I am too intolerant. I shall repent and strive to emulate you, my lord."

"Stop that."

The corners of Belaro's mouth twitched. "You'll have to beat the fanaticism out of him first, though."

"The Ordo Xenos has always gone to extremes," Volorus agreed. "I hope that's the last we hear from him." He turned to Illiawe. "Come on, I'll go show you the bomb, then you can gather up Noshan and the others."

The bomb had been placed at one of the many landing bays in the fortress. As Volorus had said, it was not a large weapon, reaching only up to her waist and thin enough that she could wrap her arms fully around it.

"How powerful is this?" Illiawe asked with some concern.

"One of these could take out a whole column of super-heavies. At least, that's what Belaro claims. He owns the factories, so he must know what he's talking about. Be careful, though. It's incredibly volatile, but we figured that it will not be a problem for you." His brows creased in concern. "Will it?"

"No, it will not. We do not have to place it too closely to the hive, then? That is good. I doubt that your psykers are proficient enough to move with much accuracy yet."

"All right, then. When will you start?"

Illiawe tilted her head. "I told Noshan that he would have until night. I think that he will need the time to practice, anyway."

"I don't think that Noshan needs all that much time to practice," Volorus jumped to the defense of the psykers.

"I beg to differ."

Volorus shrugged. "Shall we wait in the command center, then?"

"Go on ahead. I will wait here."

"Why? Because of Chiro?" He smirked. "Don't worry about him. Watching him lose his cool might be taxing, but it has its own hilarity."

When the sun began to set, Illiawe and Volorus returned to the landing bay. She sent out a thought to Noshan, calling the human psykers to her. There was a shift in the air and Noshan and his fellow psykers appeared behind Illiawe. She waved them over, gesturing for them to gather around the weapon.

"We are going to do this slowly," Illiawe instructed. "We will first take a look at the area surrounding the hive. Then we will return and move the bomb over."

"Do you know where it is?" Noshan asked.

"Well, of course I do. What a silly question. Just concentrate on moving yourself over there. I will hide us from detection, but I do not want to remain for longer than needed."

"You don't all have to go, do you?" Volorus asked, frowning.

"I cannot carry the whole of the bomb by myself and hide my presence at the same time, Volorus. Noshan and his friends will have to do the carrying."

"That makes sense, I suppose."

Illiawe looked speculatively at the psykers. "Before we start, why don't you try picking the bomb up and move to the other side of the landing bay?"

Volorus nervously bit on his knuckles. "Be careful with that. You don't want to accidentally blow this whole place up."

"We'll try," Noshan promised.

"Do more than try."

The humans gathered around the device, their brows furrowing for a second. Then they were gone. Illiawe turned, saw them standing around the weapon in the shadows on the other side of the bay, and smiled.

"It looks like we are ready," she observed to Volorus. She crooked a finger at the psykers, and they were by her side in an instant. "Follow what I do. When we get there, take a good look around you. I will not have time to lead you when we are carrying the bomb with us."

"This all seems very complicated, Illiawe," Volorus observed. "Can't they just provide you with the power while you do the work? You know what to do, so there'll be fewer risks, too."

"Not really. When a group of psykers decide to pool their power together, it requires some kind of proximity to each other. The eldar have discovered ways to circumvent this requirement, but Noshan and his psykers do not have the tools or skills necessary to do so. The mountains where the hive is are quite far away, and I do not want to make a mistake just as I am coming out into the caves. It is easier and faster to do it this way." She paused. "There is another reason too, of course. I promised to teach Noshan something about the eldar use of psychic abilities. This is as good a time as any other, and I would prefer to do it now than if we are really in danger."

Volorus nodded, then his eyes slowly narrowed as the implications of what Illiawe had said slowly dawned on him. "Noshan," he said in a dangerous voice. "Did you make a deal with Illiawe?"

Noshan winced. "Thanks," he said dryly to Illiawe. "Yes, my lord, I did."

"What exactly did you offer in exchange?"

"Simply to open the idea of working with the eldar up to you, Volorus," Illiawe replied for Noshan.

"You and I are going to have a long talk about this, Noshan," Volorus said.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic," Illiawe said. "When you get down to it, the offer that he made me was insignificant compared to the one that you made with me."

"If it weren't for him, I wouldn't have made that deal with you, would I?"

"Probably not. Now, if you do not mind, there is a bomb that we have to plant."

"One more thing," Volorus said. "That's a rather expensive bomb. If possible, try to place it somewhere where it'll do the most damage."

"I will see what I can do," Illiawe promised.

There was the shifting feeling as she translocated herself to the place she had seen in her visions, in the very base of a mountain range lying to the north. She could feel the humans follow her. There was a strange feeling as she felt herself moving, even though her senses told her otherwise, then they were inside a large cavern under the range. The caves were almost devoid of light, and Illiawe turned her mask's night vision on. The stone of the walls were still fresh, signs that the cavern had only recently been dug out. Ichor and slime coated every surface of the cavern, along with strange growths larger than Illiawe, twisting and coiling about themselves. There were tyranids there too, though fewer than Illiawe was expecting. Their carapaces were glistening in the dim light, signs that they had just been hatched. Most of them appeared to be tyranid warriors. Larger creatures strolled around the cave, laying clutches of eggs. In the exact middle of the cavern was a hulking mass, a dome of flesh and bone. It was quite a bit smaller than Illiawe was expecting, only a little larger than a Vampire gunship. There was a gaping entrance in its side. As she watched, the maw opened with gross wet sounds, and one of the serpentine tyranids slithered out. Half a minute later, it opened again, and other of the creatures came out. Illiawe felt a cold knot form in her stomach. At this rate, it would not take the tyranids long until they had another swarm of sufficient size to attack the humans with. She sent a quick pulse of thought to the humans, and they translocated back to the fortress.

"Well?" Volorus asked as soon as they appeared.

"We saw it," Illiawe confirmed. "They are consuming those mountains to the north from the inside for biomass, but it appears that they do not want to forage for more if it exposes them to the guns of the ships above."

"They are short on biomass, then?" Volorus asked intently.

"It would appear that way," Noshan confirmed. "We saw a few tyranids laying clutches of eggs. It is almost as though they are rationing biomass, reserving it only for those that take too long to grow."

Volorus rubbed at his cheek. "That's something, anyway. Will you be going with the bomb now?"

Illiawe nodded. "I dare not delay. The tyranids were being produced at a frightening rate. They are concentrating on those burrowing ones that attacked earlier, but it would be good to wipe them out, at least."

Volorus nodded. "Good luck, then."

The humans gathered once again around the bomb, and Illiawe pulled the shroud back around them, concealing their minds and bodies. They came back out in the cavern, materializing near the center. Noshan bent down, pressing his hand to something at the side of the device. A strobing light flashed once, and Noshan stood, nodding to Illiawe. She gathered her will, ready to leave. Something brushed her mind, probing, then a heavy weight pressed against her mind as something unimaginably vast pushed against her thoughts. There was a sound like the chittering of a trillion creatures, and her cloak wavered, starting to give away under that onslaught.

Then the Warp was flowing around her and, when light returned to her eyes, she found herself back in the fortress. She was breathing heavily, and she struggled to get it back under control.

"Was that the tyranids?" Noshan asked, his eyes a little wild.

Illiawe nodded.

"Did they find us?"

"They knew that something was there with them. I am not certain whether they were aware of us." She straightened. "Come, I want to have a look at the effects of the bomb."

They made their way to the top of the fortress and Illiawe looked out toward the range of mountains to the north, magnifying her vision with her mask. There was a perfectly circular hole at the base of the tallest of the mountains, a hole that stretched halfway up the mountain. Even as she watched, the peak tilted to one side and the rest of the mountain gave way, collapsing in on itself, causing a great ball of dust to billow out.

Volorus lowered the binoculars that he had to his eyes. "I wish it were always this easy," he said with a broad grin.

Illiawe nodded. "It is fortunate that the presence of the Great Devourer is so mild here." She looked up at the night sky. "It might be best if you took some rest," she said to the humans. She was yearning for sleep, but she knew that it would not come.

Volorus turned to Noshan. "Go," he said to the psykers. "I don't think that I can sleep, anyway."

"How long until they can go out again?" Volorus asked.

Illiawe chewed on her lip. "I don't know. Moving something so large is not as easy as it looks. I would have trouble after a couple of trips, and I have had a lot more practice at it than Noshan and his friends do. I don't think we dare do so again, anyway."

"Oh?"

"The tyranids broke through my barriers just as we were leaving. They will be waiting for us if we tried to do so again."

Volorus sighed and leaned on the battlement. "Well, perhaps we could think of another way to get rid of them."

"Things could be worse," Illiawe said.

"How?"

"The tyranids could decide to abandon their defensive stance and come swarming out from under the ground."

Volorus laughed shortly. "That might be a little problematic."

They stood there in the open for quite some time, gazing out at the horizon. The night was deathly silent, the tension easily detectable even from where they stood. Down below, like little insects, soldiers scurried here and there inside the fortress walls. Barked orders drifted up now and then, so muffled and indistinct as to have an almost ethereal quality to it. For a long time, neither of them spoke.

It was Volorus who first broke the silence. "I've been thinking," he said after taking a deep breath, "I have been rather callous toward you since we met."

"Not for these last two days, you have not," Illiawe observed with a small smile.

"That's what I'm getting at. I have been reassessing some things recently, and I've decided that you're not too bad."

"Your approval is very touching," Illiawe muttered.

"Please, don't make this more difficult than it already is. The point I'm getting at is that I haven't actually given you a fair chance."

"Are you apologizing?"

"I suppose I am."

Illiawe smiled. "You do not have to do that. Uriel has told me about your past experiences with my race. Your attitude is justified."

Volorus leaned his elbows on the parapet. "Nevertheless, perhaps it is time to put that behind me."

Illiawe turned and leaned back against the wall. "What was it exactly that brought this on?"

"I would rather not talk about that, if you don't mind," Volorus muttered. Then he suddenly straightened, peering intently at the horizon, his hand fishing for the binoculars.

"What is it?" Illiawe asked.

"I thought I saw something near these mountains."

Illiawe, too, scanned the horizon. "There," she said after a while, pointing at several specks circling above the collapsed mountain.

Volorus followed her finger, then he swore. "Looks like they are finally bringing the flying bugs here. Do you see any more of them?"

As if on cue, the sky above the mountains were suddenly filled with a thick mass of beating wings as hundreds of winged reptilian creatures clawed their way into the air.

"By the Emperor," Volorus swore.

"Are we able to fight that off?"

"Barely." He spoke rapidly into the vox unit at his collar, calling for the human interceptors at other parts of the planet to return to the fortress.

"Is that altogether wise?" Illiawe asked.

"What else can we do? If those tyranids come near the fortress, we are doomed."

Alarms blared in the fortress below, a shocking sound that shattered the silence. All around her on the roof, heavy weapon systems swiveled ponderously about. Swarms of missiles were fired, the smoke that they trailed along behind them nearly blotting out the horizon. There were shouts from below as, once again, the ground heaved and tyranids broke out before the wall.

Volorus looked grimly as the creatures scaled the wall. "It's lucky that this fortress had been built to withstand such tactics. I don't want to think about what would have happened if the tyranids can attack us from within."

"That is scant comfort, Volorus. The tyranids are desperate. We have deprived them of a great deal, and they will seek to destroy us." She pointed toward the horizon, where a swarm of tyranid creatures too large to fit into the tunnels came lumbering toward them. "They will make one charge and nothing more until we kill them all or they have wiped us out."

Volorus scowled. "I think it is rather obvious which of that would happen first." He rubbed at his neck and yawned. "I've had enough of this anyway."

"Do not despair, Volorus. There is still hope."

"Your mystery support? I don't know, Illiawe. They seem to be perfectly willing to wait for the tyranids to bleed us out." He shook his head. "It doesn't matter anyway. If the tyranids overrun this place, then Uriel will order the planet be scoured clean. There is really no hope for the tyranids. They can hide as deep underground as they want; it's not going to help them when this rock gets cracked in two."

As Volorus had predicted, the defenders did not hold out for long. This was not to say that the humans did not put up much of a fight. The tyranids were simply too numerous, however, and the defenders too few. It was not the sort of odds that any amount of bravery could help with.

Grudgingly, the order to retreat was given, and the humans pulled back off the wall and into the fortified corridors of the fortress, with their tanks providing cover as the tyranids scaled it and came pouring down from the top.

The humans activated explosives as they retreated, destroying corridors and collapsing ceilings in attempts to impede the tyranids and to kill as many as was possible. One courtyard that was particularly packed with the ravening creatures was obliterated by a single shell from one of the orbiting ships, vaporizing the monsters and leaving behind a massive crater of cracked glass.

Eventually, the humans reached the heart of the fortress, a series of constructions that resembled heavily reinforced bunkers rather than rooms, and they settled down to wait for the phase of battle that the humans gloomily called the "last stand". Officers paraded up and down the bunkers, reminding the troops about the honor and glory that they were privileged enough to receive from their Emperor by fighting to their last breath in his name.

None of those surviving soldiers received glory and honor that day. Massive asteroids, pushed by spluttering engines that trailed oily smoke, crashed some distance before the fortress. From those asteroids came a massive, incoherent war cry. The asteroids burst open from within with terrifying force, pieces of it flying high into the air and landing on those tyranids still before the walls. Like a sea of flesh, the hulking figures of the orks came rushing out of the craters left behind by the asteroids. Laughs and shouts and bawdy challenges came from the orks. The tyranids, realizing the new threat, turned away from the fortress, charging to meet the newcomers.

The two forces came together with a loud crash, and pure chaos broke out. Orks wrestled with tyranids in a flurry of grinding blades and thrashing claws. They bit at the tyranids even as they struggled to keep the creatures' jaws from closing around their necks.

Those tyranids that have not drawn close to the humans turned away with their characteristic singleness of purpose, moving back the way that they had come from. The orks gave vent to another mighty war cry as the ranks of the tyranids were bolstered, and they fell upon the tyranids with renewed vigor. The air filled with laughter and whooping and even a few snatches of bawdy and off-tune singing.

Then pillars of fire lanced down from the sky. The mighty wall of the fortress that had withstood assault after assault by the tyranids finally came down, reduced to nothing more than glowing slag, even as everything else around it was vaporized.