Cincere Tempestas Chapter 29
The Repulsor's anti-gravs howled with barely contained power and its turbines roared as they pushed it forwards at an incredible pace. It was not alone either, forty more of its kind charged with it, a line of shining steel and black hurtling just over the river. In their holds awaited three hundred Ashen Knights, a force that could break whole worlds.
Ulysses could see it all from where he stood, head and shoulders sticking out of a tank's turret. His hands were upon the pintle mounted ironhail stubber and his eagerness to engage made him clench the handles hard. He could see the river stretching out before him, a long line of shimmering wetness, the reflected light from above making it resemble a stream of blood. Ulysses was clad in his armour but his neural link told him that his faceplate was being sprayed with water, the anti-gravs of the tank throwing up clouds of moisture as it charged at top speed.
The Ashen Knights had mounted their tanks and set forth seeking battle. Rather than try to fight their way through the city they had pulled north and then swept back down along the course of the river. No other Imperial vehicle could have attempted such a feat; no armoured transport save the Repulsor could travel on shimmering anti-gravs. They had roared past mountains of rubble and under the noses of screeching Chaos Raptors with ease, travelling at a speed most vehicles would require a ferrocrete road to match. It made no difference to the Repulsors, stone, grass or water, it was all the same to them.
Ulysses felt the vibrations of the tank ringing through him, making his teeth rattle but that was not why he grinned. Ahead the distant form of the bridge was coming into view, covered in a furious battle that still raged. Ulysses glimpsed flashes of blue power armour battling impossible odds as they tried to hold back an endless tide of screaming madmen. The horde was as vast and endless as any he had ever seen, the insanity of Chaos waxing strong this day. Ulysses had no idea how the outnumbered Storm Heralds had managed to hold against such numbers but it was clear that they could not endure much longer. This battle could only end in defeat, yet that was an outcome the Ashen knights would not accept, not while the Master of Sanctity still drew breath.
Ulysses opened his vox and shouted, "Lord-Marshall, the target is in sight but we must make haste, the battle turns against the Imperium!"
Over the vox Achilles voice responded, "All units prepare for Tsunami manoeuvre. Ulysses, take point and create a beachhead!"
Obeying the order the Repulsors swung east, bringing their weapons to point at the embankment. The shore was packed with enemies, a solid mass of howling people, all infected with the cursed flames of Chaos. They clawed and fought each other in their desperation to reach the battle on the bridge, incapable of any thought save shedding blood and ending lives. Ulysses' hatred and contempt grew at the sight and he gripped the stubber tightly but he held his fire, they had another weapon to use first.
As the Repulsors closed those in the centre of the line dropped back, bending the line into a 'U-shape'. Repulsors were not like the dainty machines of the Eldar, they did not gracefully skim over the ground without disturbing a blade of grass, instead they hammered the floor with pounding gravitic force, crushing anything beneath them with inexorable might. When travelling over water the effect was to create a bow-wave, a surge of displaced liquid that barrelled ahead of them. When combined and amplified forty-fold this produced a massive wave of water that could be directed and used as a weapon.
Ulysses saw the river surging, a massive wave rising twenty foot high before the Ashen Knights. The tanks drove the wave towards the embankment, then at the last second the drivers cut their turbines and reduced speed, but the wave travelled on. It surged over the walls of the embankment and flooded amongst the packed masses of people. Screaming berserkers were overwhelmed by the instant flood, carried away by the surging waves to be smashed into nearby buildings with bone-shattering force. Many more were trapped under the weight of their kin, pinned to the ground and left to drown in the flooded streets. Before the Ashen Knights had even fired a single shot they had killed hundreds of foes and swept a portion of the bank clear. Only the Chaos Marines stood unaffected, their ceramite armour suddenly standing out in the thrashing, drowning crowd. Ulysses snarled in sacred revulsion and swung his stubber around crying, "Fire!"
Instantly every Repulsor let fly, onslaught Gatling cannons and hull-mounted Lascanons blazing with ear-splitting fury. They bracketed the Word Bearers with ruthless overkill, cutting them apart with devastating power and sparing none. Ulysses gripped the triggers of his stubber and felt its juddering reverberations shaking his whole body. He gritted his teeth and held on, directing the stream of traces towards a lone Word Bearer. Rounds pinged off the thick Ceramite armour but what the Ironhail lacked in stopping power it more than made up for in sheer weight of fire and he kept the weapon firing until the Chaos Marine collapsed, blood pouring from every joint.
Ulysses saw the stone embankment whip underneath him but the Repulsor barely rocked, its grav-fields unperturbed. The tanks rode into the dazed horde but their window of opportunity was slight. From all directions more madmen poured forth, dashing around the buildings at a frantic pace. They ran into the dissipating flood waters and trampled their downed fellows, unable to comprehend their suffering any more.
Ulysses saw the Repulsors greet them with waves of fire, turret weapons scything down droves and auto-grenade launchers firing explosives on arcs over their heads. Bodies exploded in the carnage, torn apart by the furious barrage and falling in sprays of blood. Yet it was barely slowing the horde down for they came on regardless, running into the teeth of overwhelming firepower with the reckless courage of the insane. Ulysses saw hundreds more foes falling but the tank's fire was too dispersed, too widely spread to halt the tide of enemies, they were going to close into combat no matter what. The Chaplain realised what must be done and he cried, "Intercessors, dismount!"
Instantly side doors slammed down and Primaris Marines poured out, leaping into the flood waters which were barely ankle deep now. Ulysses joined them, leaping out of his turret and splashing down onto the ground. The horde was barely a few metres away but he was not afraid, the God-Emperor was with him and he knew exactly what to do. Ulysses raised his Crozius high and cried, "Form up into two lines, staggered formation!"
Without question a hundred and fifty Intercessors formed up, back rank standing in a formal line with the Repulsors firing over their heads, while the front rank knelt. The enemy was so close they could feel their breath and in a few seconds combat must surely be joined but Ulysses did not baulk. He waited for a single second, until the line was perfect and then he cried, "Back rank, take aim… Volley fire!"
Bolt-rifles thundered as they discharged simultaneously, a scythe of destruction that decimated the screaming multitudes, harvesting them like ripened crops. Scores of rabid maniacs fell and the horde itself was blown back by the fury of the barrage. In that moment of vulnerability Ulysses cried, "Advance!" and the rearmost Intercessors responded by taking three steps forward, passing their kneeling comrades and then dropping to one knee before them as they reloaded. By now the horde had recovered, surging forward once more but Ulysses lifted his Crozius again and the new rear line rose up, pointing weapons forward and waiting for the order.
"Take aim… Fire!" Ulysses roared and the horde was blown back, bodies dropping like flies as he yelled, "Advance!" Again the Intercessors ploughed forwards, before dropping to one knee as the new rear line stood up. Ulysses marched with them, carving a path into the numberless horde as he cried over and over, "Take aim, fire… Advance! Take aim, fire… Advance!" Take aim, fire… Advance!"
Each time the rear line would move a handful of paces forward, pushing the horde back with sheer weight of firepower. Nothing could stand before them, the Primaris' progress proving utterly unstoppable and their slaughter was wondrous to behold. In seconds they had cleared a wide circle around the tanks, a tiny spot of safety but in doing so they had become spread out, thinning their firepower. Ulysses saw the horde rallying, the teeming masses bunching up for one almighty charge to break the line of ceramite. He gripped his Crozius tightly and prepared to lead his Marines into the fray but a moment before the horde could reach them a new torrent of firepower flew over the Ashen Knight's heads.
Ulysses spared a half-second to look behind and he saw a wall of shining steel closing, the towering might of the Aggressors. In the moments of respite the Intercessors had bought, the heavy weapon specialists had dismounted, a slow and laborious processed which was why they favoured marching into combat. Yet now they were free and two-score of them stood ready, Fragstorm grenade launchers primed and Boltstorm gauntlets raised.
The Aggressors marched methodically forwards, speaking their fury as they swept their arms left and right. A veritable blitzkrieg of rounds hurtled over Ulysses' head and it decimated the packed ranks of the foe, slaughtering them in droves. More and more madmen poured out of avenues and roadways and it seemed their numbers would never end. Yet the Aggressors were designed for exactly this kind of warfare and their sheer weight of firepower annihilated everything they targeted. Each one of them was unleashing a squad's worth of firepower and they marched forward with relentless determination, slaying everything within sight. The seething masses of foes were laid to waste by the Aggressors, who pressed on unleashing hell, which left only the Chaos Marines to be dealt with. Then came the glorious sight of Lord-Marshall Achilles, charging forward with Despolier held high as he cried, "Reivers with me, Inceptors, hit and run don't get bogged down. Hellblasters; focus your firepower, leave none alive! Everyone else, charge!"
As one the Ashen Knights hurled themselves at the Word Bearers, smiting them down with unmatchable fury. Ulysses roared his anger as he barrelled towards the nearest Traitor, his Crozius swinging down to shatter a mutated helm. The fighting became close as the two sides tore at each other and Ulysses' world shrank to a claustrophobic nightmare of hacking and stabbing ceramite forms. Plasma flashes seared onto his retina as Traitors were reduced to slag and the roar of jump packs rang down from above as Inceptors flew overhead, raining down assault bolter fire. The melee was crushing and bloody, both sides unleashing their fury and zeal but Ulysses exulted in the raw heat of combat. His hearts thundered in his chest, his arms burned with exertion and his gene-seed thrummed with potential as he smote down his foes. This was what he had been forged for, the sole purpose of his being, here was the truest expression of his devotion and his soul sang with the rush of battle.
Somehow he found himself shoulder to shoulder with Achilles and he shouted, "They are no match for us!"
Achilles cried back, "The Storm Heralds are advancing, they seek to link up. Together victory shall be ours!"
Ulysses dared to think for a moment that the tide had turned, that the day was theirs, but then a shadow fell over the crowded streets. The whole battle paused as every head lifted in terror and horror, seeing a terrible Red Angel descending from on high. It was a monstrous beast, with a goat's head and terrible weapons in its hands. The Mark of Khorne blazed on its chest and from its back spread wings of fire. The mere sight of it sparked wonder and horror in equal measure and Ulysses felt gore rise in his throat as the rancid stench of a billion murders penetrated his helm's grill.
Achilles gasped in revulsion and shouted, "Bloodthirster!"
Ulysses saw the Daemon diving right towards them but he knew no fear, he lifted his Crozius high and shouted, "To me Ashen Knights, our sternest challenge is at hand. Steel your hearts Brethren, glory or death awaits!"
Then the Red Angel fell upon them and the true battle was joined.
