Speculum Enigmate Chapter 46
"Evade!" Persion roared as he swung the turret about, "Evade damn it!" Phobos' Light veered sideways, desperately trying to avoid the sweep of those black talons. The grav-machine's turbines howled as it shunted sideways, knocking Persion into the side of the hatch as the claws missed his head by an inch. The Repulsor drifted laterally, its grav-fields knocking down the surrounding mobs of Hybrids and Purestrains. No dainty flyer was this, the tank hammered the ground with its anti-gravitic impulses, liquefying any Genestealer unlucky enough to fall under its bulk. Those few who avoided being killed by the clashing energies were gunned down by the tank's storm bolters, the Machine Spirit auto-targeting knots of foes. Persion paid them no mind, his eyes fixed firmly on the Patriarch.
The progenitor of the Genestealers loomed over the tank, its face warping into an evil grin due to its fangs. It was as big as a Hive Tyrant, with a maw wide enough to swallow a Space marine whole and lethal threat oozed out of every pore. The vicious talons on the ends of each of its four arms glinted in the wan light, promising inevitable death to any who came near.
That had been proven beyond doubt with the death of Reaper. The Leman Russ tank had barrelled straight at the Patriarch, firing wildly, only to be torn apart by those claws. Armour thick enough to shrug off missiles had been peeled apart like a ration pack, the crew inside screaming in terror as they were diced to pieces and set alight by a ruptured Promethium line. Now Reaper's hulk cast a fiery light over the scene, illuminating the Patriarch from below, like a Daemon from hell.
Persion had seen how easily the father of Genestealers had ended a noble tank but he was not daunted. Perison had faced real Daemons and worse in his life and he would be damned if he would cower before any monster. He gripped the turret's controls and yelled, "Tanath, as one: fire!" The two Repulsors discharged their las-talons simultaneously, hammering the Patriarch with coherent light. The Genestealer lord twisted aside but the armour-penetrating shots still punched into its shoulders, leaving cauterised craters in its flesh. Black blood sizzled in the wounds and the Patriarch screamed in pain, making Persion laugh aloud in elation.
Persion cried joyfully, "It can be hurt! Quickly, Aspa, swing about and ready the Lascannons to…" He didn't get to finish for the Patriarch threw its arms wide, and roared a challenge, then it leapt for him. Shimmering grav –fields proved useless as the giant creature pushed through them, its claws lashing out for Persion's head. The Lieutenant ducked at the last possible instant but the talons bit into the mass of the turret he was standing in and ripped the front clean off, taking the las-talon with it. Persion was left in the gaping wreckage of the turret, trying to steady himself as the Repulsor rocked madly. Then the claws lashed out again and tore the port turbine free of its housing.
Phobos' Light screamed as it went into a mad spin, careening out of control. Persion was slammed into the side of the wrecked turret, clinging on for all he was worth as the tank spun wildly. The world blurred and all he could see were sky and ground and sky again, then the corner of the tank hit the ground and dug in, flipping the tank end over end. Persion felt an all-mighty crash slam into him, shaking his genhanced bones and finally the world stopped spinning.
Phobos' Light was laying on its side, with flames pouring out of its engine block. Of the driver there was no sign, dead or trapped Persion could not tell, but he could see the Patriarch perfectly. The father of Genestealers had turned from the wreckage and was angling for Deimos' Shadow, intending to finish the final Repulsor off. Meanwhile the crowds of Hybrids closed in, determined to tear Persion limb from limb.
The lieutenant didn't give them the chance. He braced his feet and reach out, grabbing the Ironhail stubber on its pintle mounting. He heaved with all his strength and the weapon tore free. He clutched it in one arm and started climbing, waddling his bulk over the wreckage until he stood on top of the overturned tank. He set his boots firmly and then brought up the stubber, holding it like a rifle with his augmetic hand as he squeezed the trigger with his left.
The machine gun roared as a tongue of flame ejected from its barrel. Persion nearly lost hold of it, so great was the recoil, but he was transhuman and his strength was equal to the task. A torrent of bullets slammed into the Patriarch, peppering its flank with lead. The Chitin hide withstood the volley but the Patriarch certainly felt the wounds, stinging bites chewing upon its back. Persion kept the trigger down as he gritted his teeth. The barrel was red hot in his metal hand, the sensation transmitted through nerve connections to feel like real pain. Yet he did not stop firing, snarling a furious retort until the magazine ran dry.
The Patriarch turned to face him, fixing him with its black eyes as it forgot the retreating tank. A snarled hiss sent its lesser kin scurrying away and Persion knew he had got its attention. In those eyes was only alien foulness, an all-consuming urge to dominate and corrupt everything, mixed with the rage of personal affront. It saw Persion's defiance and desired to end him once and for all. It would not be content with letting its children end the Space Marine, the Patriarch wanted to do this itself.
Persion dropped the stubber and took up his Friction Axe as he shouted, "You are as stupid as you are ugly!"
It was hardly the noblest battlecry but it goaded the Patriarch into action, leaping forward as it snarled, "Gnnnnargh!"
Persion saw a talon coming at him from the right and swung his axe to deflect the blow. The impact jarred through him but even as it did so another swipe came from the left and tore through his leg. Persion almost staggered as his leg was left with gaping wounds but he refused to fall as another lashing strike came at him and another. Persion was left to fight for his life, swinging his axe about in a swirling defence that left red traces across the vision. The moment consumed Persion and he forgot the wider battle, he let go of his second-guessing and doubts. There was only the fight, only the claws and his axe. Defiance was all he had left and he clung to it, knowing the difference between life and death was measured by millimetres.
He deflected and denied blow after blow, standing his ground in the face of a vicious onslaught but for all his heroic defiance he had but one axe and the foe had four arms. A terrible pain ripped through Persion as a claw sliced his midriff, spilling rich blood and he knew the next blow would finish him. The Patriarch was too fast and too strong, it had him right where it wanted him.
Persion looked up into the grinning face of death and prepared to shout his last words but as the arms raised to end him another person intervened. From nowhere dashed a figure painted in genestealer blood, armed with a cleaver and a bar of metal. It burst from the surrounding scrum with a cry of feral anger and fell upon the Patriarch's leg, hacking and smashing with wild abandon.
"Memnos?!" Persion gasped as the duel paused. He had no idea where the Apothecary had come from and watched in awe as Memnos smote the Chitin hide with a frenzied flurry of blows Persion didn't know he was capable of. Sadly the Patriarch didn't seem impressed, it half-turned towards the annoying gnat biting on its knee, swinging at him with an uppercut that caught him across the breastplate, sending him flying away in a shower of blood. Memnos hit the ground and rolled over, momentarily out of the action and Persion took up his axe, expecting the duel to resume.
Memnos' assault had been thwarted but it had not been pointless. In the momentary respite the nearby horde parted, revealing Jediah, the Reivers and the retinue, all bounding into the fray. Persion's jaw dropped as he beheld the party fall upon the Genestealer lord, their knives and swords flashing. Jediah darted in and hacked at a sinew with his Short Sword, drawing a line of black blood. Sergeant Gotram attacked the other leg, stabbing into a joint with a cry of fury while the others closed in, nipping at its flanks with their knives. Persion saw the Sister of Silence Mortula dance underneath it, slashing upwards with a borrowed blade. More than anything Persion had done this seemed to bother the monster, her Null Aura loathsome to its psychic presence.
Persion lifted his axe and struck out for a shoulder, his elevated position letting him hit higher as he cried, "Where the hell did you come from?!"
Jediah shouted, "You wouldn't believe us!"
"Wherever it is you are welcome," Persion yelled, "Maybe together we can…"
Suddenly the Patriarch roared in anger and its limbs shot out in all directions as it swung its bulk around. Everybody was knocked back by the move, sent sprawling to the ground and Persion staggered as the wreckage under his feet was slammed back and forth. He couldn't help but stagger and in that instant a clawed hand snatched him about the waist and lifted him high. Persion was held aloft, his axe pinned to his side and his left arm uselessly beating on digits as wide as his leg. The Genestealer lifted him high and tipped its head back, opening its maw wide to reveal a black gullet. Persion's eyes widened in horror as he realised it intended to devour him whole, eating him alive. Then he was thrust downwards.
Persion fell towards that black maw but he kicked out with his boots, spreading his feet wide and managed to plant one boot on its nose and the other on the Genestealer's chin. The Patriarch hissed with fury and redoubled its efforts, grinding him down as its jaw snapped shut and opened again. Persion was helpless as he was jerked to and fro, his axe was pinned and his pistol out of reach and his boots were slipping. In another moment he would lose his stance and be forced into that mouth, swallowed alive and there was nothing he could do to stop it. All he could do was try to kick out as he shouted, "Eat me and I'll cut you apart from the inside!"
Death drew near but then there was a savage cry of anger. Memnos had returned and he bounded towards the Patriarch with savage fury, heedless of the fact that he was outmatched. The Apothecary slammed into a leg and made the Patriarch rock back as he ripped and tore with his crude weapons. His brutal assault made small impression but it did make the Patriarch's grip loosen and Persion was able to push his arms out, further weakening the grip.
Then he saw it: Sergeant Gotram, running past Memnos and reaching out to snatch something from his back. Persion saw the Reiver Sergeant heave a bulky satchel back and then lob it, straight at the Lieutenant as he shouted, "Here, use this!"
Persion caught it by the strap and was amazed to see it was a demolition charge, one that was already active and counting down. Persion reacted instantly, swinging his arm over to bring the satchel high and then send it plunging into the black maw beneath his feet as he cried, "We are the Emperor's Storm!"
The demolition charge went straight into that yawning mouth and hit the back of the throat, lodging tight in the larynx. The Patriarch squealed in agony and suddenly Persion was dropping to the ground as he was let go. He hit the ground and rolled over, coming to look straight up as the father of Genestealers thrashed and clawed at its own throat. The giant creature careened about as it choked, feet stomping everywhere as it futilely attempted to dislodge the pack in its throat. It was pointless, its claws could not touch the obstruction and then its time ran out. Persion saw its doom unfold and he drew in a breath to shout, "We are His Wrath!"
An explosion erupted from the Patriarch's mouth, a billowing ball of flame and gore that grew exponentially in a second. Hardened Chitin proved no match for power that could level a building and the Patriarch's head came apart like a balloon bursting, flinging droplets of blood and bone away in a shower of red rain. Flames consumed the upper half of the Genestealer, a blazing fireball that reduced its torso to ashes.
Persion felt the fireball wash over him, searing heat and concussive force battering his frame. Were he not a Space Marine the force of it would have ruptured his lungs and as it was he felt like he was being slammed into the ground by the hammer of a god. Then the flames dissipated and the charred legs of the father of Genestealers collapsed, leaving a sudden silence in its wake.
A momentary pause swept over the battlefield as all witnessed its death, then a wail of utter anguish arose. Persion looked up and saw the Genestealer Cult in the throes of total despair. They fell to their knees and wept, clawing at their own heads and drawing blood in their lamentation. They battered their heads into the ground or put lasguns into their own mouths and pulled the triggers, blowing their brains out. Some ran from the field while others sat and wept with their hands wrapped around their knees as they rocked back and forth. Even a few Purestrains turned on each other, clawing at their kindred in an instinctive battle for dominance. All they knew was sorrow and despair and not one of them was thinking about battling the Imperials.
Persion rose to his feet as the survivors of the confrontation gathered nearer and Sergeant Gotram asked in confusion, "What's happened to them?"
Jediah answered, "Their Broodmind is shattered. They depended on that connection to function and they can't be without it."
Gotram looked out over the weeping horde and questioned, "So what do we do?"
Persion lifted his axe and declared, "We kill them all while they can't fight back. Follow me and show no mercy. For the Imperium, leave none alive!"