Speculum Enigmate Chapter 38
A Purestrain rose over the parapet, scaling the rampart like it was nothing. Its ridged alien skull gleamed in the dim red light and its teeth were razor sharp. In those black eyes was no trace of humanity, no compassion, no mercy, only the will to slay and corrupt. It hissed threateningly as its eyes took in the top of the wall, preparing to leap upon the defenders and lay waste to all it found. But its ambition was cut short as a burning Friction Axe tore its skull apart, cleaving the top off and sending the creature toppling back to the ground.
Persion saw the Genestealer fall but he had no time to celebrate, for scores more were pouring over the ramparts. He saw Purestrains racing up the wall like it was nothing, their rending claws making short work of the ascent. Barely slower were a wave of misshapen Hybrids, their hands and feet bound with hooked crampons so they could follow in their kin's wake. Set against them a thin line of humans and Space Marines fought to hold back the tide, repulsing the assault with all their courage. They were defending the top of the wall and the Heavy Weapon teams emplaced there, knowing those guns were the only thing keeping the Genestealers from overwhelming the defence of the Citadel.
Heavy bolters hammered into the packed mass, while missile launchers, autocannons and Lascannons added what firepower they could. Long trails of carnage were swept into the milling crowd but it was like firing into the sea, the swarming hordes merely closed over the gaps, trampling their wounded to death as they did so. Further down gun-blisters still fired into the swarming horde pressing up against the wall but their number was diminishing. Too many had been torn open by the claws of Purestrains, reducing the defence one gun at a time. And all the while more shots flew from the nearby buildings, the Hybrids setting off single shots and then relocating before the defenders could target them. They had learned to be wary of the human's guns.
Persion knew brave men were dying in the passages and chambers buried into the wall, fighting to hold the genestealers at bay but he could not help them. He was leading the defence of the top and could not spare a single Marine to aid them. He felt the wall shivering in a worrying fashion beneath his feet and grew concerned that its integrity was failing but neither could he do anything about that. All he could do was fight.
Persion stepped past a battling Intercessor and cleaved a Purestrain in half from behind. The Genestealer was about to gut Sergeant Zeax, whose Devastators were firing ceaselessly over the parapet. The Purestrain fell in two pieces but Zeax only barked, "I had it."
"Course you did," Persion mocked, "You can have the next one."
Zeax muttered something under his breath but he swung his Thunder Hammer in a high arc and brought it down on the skull of the next Purestrain to loom over the parapet. Brains sprayed everywhere as the energised weapon smote the skull and it fell away. A Hybrid climbed over the wall next to it but Zeax swept it off the wall with a lateral strike and the next he bashed in the face with his redoubtable Storm Shield.
Persion joined him in slaughtering the Genestealers, claiming an ever-increasing tally of kills and he cried, "Does this remind you of the stand of the Primarch's Own against Vorshaan?"
"No," Zeax snarled as he crushed skulls, "It really doesn't. Vorshaan was an egotistical fool, this filth is damned good."
It was hard to argue with that assessment, for the defenders were falling in great number. Torn and bloodied bodies lay strewn upon the floor, their dead eyes staring at the shimmering void shield. The cries and pleading of the wounded were drowned out by the hammering of weapons, the rage of the combatants and the never-ending booming of artillery striking the void shield. The Genestealer's assault was grinding down the defence inch by inch and was it not for the presence of the Astartes the wall would surely have fallen already.
Persion knew he needed more soldiers and voxed, "Major Trennan, we need more men up here."
The vox crackled and Otlie's voice came back, "Trennan's dead and we have no more souls to spare. The assault has spread to all quadrants, we're besieged on all sides."
Zeax continued to fight as he barked, "Warp Hells, how many Genestealers are there on this worthless planet?"
"Too many," Persion snarled as he punched a Hybrid away and called, "Get me the next in command."
Otlie replied, "He's dead too, they all are. You're the only officer left on the north wall."
Persion snapped, "Then tell everybody I'm taking direct command and…"
He didn't get to finish his sentence for a pair of Purestrains bounded over the parapet. The first he smote in the heart with his axe but the other lashed out with its rending claws, tearing through his left arm to leave bloody trails. Persion snarled as he felt his blood flow but he closed his mind to the pain and swung his axe at the creature. His swing was stopped as it raised two hands and caught his wrist, keeping his arm still and preventing the killing blow from falling. Its eyes glittered mockingly but it was cruelly surprised when Persion's injured arm grabbed his bolt pistol. Despite screaming agony Persion willed his arm to rise and then he shot the Purestrain in the face.
The Genestealer collapsed without a head as Persion gritted his teeth against the searing pain in his arm. Zeax was next to him, either not noticing the wound or not caring, as he barked, "When the hell is that Monument going to fall?!"
Persion forced his pain aside as he saw the towering Monument to Reunification standing pristine against the skyline. His plan had been to bring it down on the Genestealer's heads but it showed no sign of falling. Persion took up his axe as he spat, "Yones is behind schedule."
"You think something happened to them?" Zeax growled.
"Better not have," Persion hissed, "We need them to spring the trap."
More foes were cresting the wall, only to be met by the indomitable courage of the Space Marines. Intercessors and Devastators forming a bulwark of blue Ceramite. Persion's arm ached from his wounding but he persevered, hacking down Hybrids as fast as he was able. He knew they could not hold this line forever but he would not relent, he would stand his ground so long as there was ground to be held. Behind him the Astartes battled on, striking down enemies as fast as they presented themselves. The shining wall of Ceramite was set against the talons and knives of the alien and it did not break. Persion saw his Brothers waging war as it was meant to be waged, hard, fast and cruel. They dispatched foes with exacting surety and ruthless determination, killing the foe utterly then moving on to the next without pause.
The Storm Heralds were wreaking havoc but suddenly Zeax lifted his hammer and cried, "Look, mechanised armour approaches!"
Persion's head snapped about and he stared into the sea of foes washing up against the wall as he snarled, "No. Warp Hells no, not that."
Behind the line of buildings smoke and dust arose, the unmistakable sign of tracked vehicles moving through an urban environment. Persion could see shadows looming around the corners of the nearest buildings and even through the din of battle he could make out the noise of engines growling, STC-promethium engines. Looted PDF machines or outright Traitors, it mattered not. Such a force could turn this battle on its head and Persion knew that the Citadel was stretched to the limit holding off the attackers swarming up its walls. Another wave could break them.
Persion opened his vox and called, "Otlie, enemy armour approaches from the North."
The vox crackled as Otlie called, "Repeat that? Did you say armour?"
"Confirmed," Persion called, "For Throne's sake tell me the Pascum PDF doesn't have any Baneblades."
"Baneblades?" Otlie replied, "No, no super heavies… but they had Demolishers and Thunderer siege tanks in spades."
Sure enough around the buildings came a line of tanks, grinding along on caterpillar tracks. Each of them had thick armour plates and smoking engines, their growling machinery audible even of the din of battle. Their hulls were drab brown and they bore marks of the PDF, though with their hatches secured it was impossible to determine if they were crewed by Hybrids or Traitors. It hardly mattered, their intent was obvious, they were here to break open the Citadel, a feat they were well capable of achieving. They were variants of standard designs, with their primary weapons removed in favour of wide-bore Demolisher cannons. Proud Leman Russ hulls had their turrets expanded to take the bulky weapons while the Thunderers were refitted tank destroyers, bulky and awkward in form but utterly lethal at short range.
Persion saw twenty tanks rolling into the plaza, the Genestealers parting before them like a wave. His guts clenched at the sight but his voice cried out, "Heavy weapons, target those tanks!" There was a momentary pause as the heavy weapon crews shifted their aim then a flurry of Lascannon beams, autocannon rounds and missiles flew from the gatehouses and smote the tanks. Las-energy tore into hulls, shells cracked open armour and Krak missiles punched into crew compartments. The salvo would have broken a hundred lighter vehicles, but sadly these were siege specialists, boasting reinforced armour for urban warfare.
Persion saw their blows bring four tanks to a halt, spewing smoke from their sundered forms but the rest pushed on, drawing into range as their barrels elevated. "Brace!" Persion cried as the barrels fixed upon a single position, then as one the tanks fired. Thunder rolled as sixteen Demolisher cannons let loose their fury, sending fat shells sailing high. The tanks did not target the gates themselves, those Adamantium barricades proof against almost anything, but instead targeted the wall beyond the gatehouses.
The shells stuck the wall and burrowed into its mass before detonating, exploding with earth-shattering force. Broken masonry soared into the sky as flames wormed into the barrier. Violent vibrations ran through the length of the wall, spreading gagged cracks through its outer surface in a spider web of calamity. Persion staggered as the wall quaked beneath his feet, shaking like an aquatic vessel in an ocean swell and he saw the damage mounting. Gun-blisters had been shorn free, spilling bodies and weapons to the ground, men were thrown to their feet and the screams of the dying filled the air with pain and terror.
"Damnation," Zeax swore, "That was too much."
"They're just getting warmed up," Persion snarled, "Everybody target those tanks, hurry before they can fire again!"
Shaking hands trained weapons on the tanks and let off another salvo as they sought to reload. This time the barrage was feebler, poorly aimed and sporadic. A lone lascannon shot sheared a turret off a demolisher tank, leaving it squatting with no head in the road. A lucky missile punched into a Thunderer, setting off its cargo of shells in a blazing fireball that spread an inferno over nearby Hybrids. Two more tanks were dead but it was not enough and the fourteen remaining tanks made ready and let loose their fury once more. Persion was almost thrown from his feet as the wall quivered like a new-born colt, spilling shattered stone in a waterfall of broken masonry. He knew they could not withstand another barrage like that and roared, "Fire, for Throne's sake somebody fire!"
A last desperate volley fell but the Tanks rebuffed it with ease. Their looming forms shrugging off the defender's feeble efforts. Their barrels gaped like dragons' maws, promising utter destruction and their smoking engines were as the breath of monsters. Then they fired one last time and Persion's world collapsed.
The wall under his feet fell away and he tumbled down with it. Stone and grit battered his armour as he sank into a shower of falling rock. He could not see anything, or hear anybody else. All he knew was the crushing weight of stone slamming into him as he was taken by an avalanche of Ferrocrete. A final rock slammed into his helm, cracking the Ceramite, then it stopped.
Persion felt himself being squeezed on all sides, but the weight on him was slight and he knew he was not buried too deeply. He managed to shift his arm and felt it move freely through the air. Hastily he reached up and pulled loose rock off his body, unburying himself as fast as he was able. Swiftly he freed his other arm, then it was quick work to break loose of his prison and heave himself out of the hole.
He swayed to his feet, relieved to see he had managed to keep hold of his Friction Axe through the fall. He did not enjoy the prospect flagellating himself with barbed lashes should he dishonour his wargear by dropping it. He shook off the dust from his body then looked up. What he beheld was a slope of loose stone and grit, forming a chasm into the bulk of the wall. To either side the high ramparts still soared but for a span of fifty metres there was only shattered rock and pulverised stone, forming a perfect ramp into the heart of the Citadel. Persion spied the remains of many mortals in that debris, bloody smears of flesh and bone that had been brave defenders mere moments before. Of his Brothers there was no sign, he was alone.
Suddenly there was an immense roar of triumph and Persion spun about to see the throng of Genestealers pushing forward. They raced through the fire of the defenders, still coming from either side, braving the onslaught to reach the foot of the ramp. Hundreds of them were mowed down but more pushed through, knowing that they had clear and unobstructed access to the heart of the defences.
Hundreds of Hybrids ran with weapons in hand, next to bounding Purestrains with black eyes and razor-sharp talons. All that stood in their way was one Space Marine, armed with nothing but an axe and a pistol. Persion faced the oncoming horde and knew to stand against them was to die but he lifted his axe and braced his feet as he growled, "Come on then alien scum, let us walk the road to hell together."
