Chapter II
Stephen cleaved the first greenskin in half, its blood staining his surcoat. Another lunged at him from the side, but its life was quickly ended as its head was separated from its body, the Black Sword trailing viscera. In less than the space of a breath, Stephen shifted the blade into a one-handed grip, drew his bolt pistol and fired into the chest of an onrushing Ork. The beast exploded and the many, meaty segments of its torso flew in all directions.
Eva stabbed her blade one-handed into a bull-charging greenskin, skewering it through its thick skull. She then blasted the on coming up behind it with a plasma shot, roasting its brain and filling the air with the scent of rancid, burning meat. She withdrew her blade and slashed off the next xenos' arm off. While it didn't seem to notice at first, it certainly did when it attempted to swing the axe it had been holding. It roared at her angrily only to be split from shoulder to hip by the crackling power blade.
One of the greenskins, armed with a crude power claw, tried to fell both of them with a single stroke. The claw passed between them, so closely that they both heard the whining fizz of the pistons brought on by years of use and rust. It was the creature's last mistake. Its eyes bulged in surprise as two gun barrels appeared on either side of its face. Less than a second later, one eye was blown out by a plasma shot, the other by a bolter round. Blood splattered across Stephen and Eva's faceplates, briefly blinding both of them.
Eva wiped away the blood from her visor and split another greenskin from hip to shoulder. While Stephen knocked another charging creature off of its feet and brought his right foot down on its misshapen head, crushing it to a bloody pulp.
More and more Orks charged them, and more and more ended their lives as heaps of bloody green meat, some burned and some merely sliced. However, after five hours of fighting, Eva was slowly beginning to grow exhausted.
Her arms ached from all the sword blows, plasma shots and power cell changes. She had only one power cell left and the one in her pistol was nearly spent. The power field on her sword was beginning to falter, and needed recharging. Stephen was a similar story.
While the power field of the Black Sword was far more robust, it would certainly need recharging after this. However, it was fortunate that the blade still had a charge, as his supply of bolter rounds had dried up by now. While Marshal Henrich always chided him for not conserving ammunition, it had never been a problem before. But worse than all of this, the ground was disappearing beneath them.
Not literally as it had when Stephen had fought on lost Cadia, but with the same urgency. When the greenskins had first charged, there had been more than ample space for the duo to counter them. However, as the fight had progressed, the creatures had encircled them and slowly began to tighten the noose. It didn't help that both Stephen and Eva wearing read on their armor and weapons. Eva's cloak had a red inner lining, while Stephen's bolter pistol possessed a red frame.
"Dat coatz mine!" shouted several greenskins, before their lives ended.
"Dat snazzy shoota's mine!" shouted several others, before they too, perished.
As the circle closed in, it appeared that very soon both items would be treasures in an Orkish hoard. Fortunately, salvation was fast approaching, bourn on metallic wings built by the hands of the Martian Priesthood.
The trio of Thunderhawks shrieked past with a subsonic boom. The craft made a sharp U-turn and returned, strafing the greenskins with heavy bolter and missile fire. As they passed overhead, Stephen and Eva spotted the unmistakable livery of the Black Templars. While this brought both of them great joy, it also confused Stephen.
The Chapter had committed five Companies to this campaign, only five. And each Thunderhawk could carry at least thirty Battle-Brothers at once. If that were so, then almost an entire company would soon disembark to aide them. But why would the Marshal send a fifth of their forces to aide them? His answer came as the Thunderhawks made a second strafing run and lowered their landing gear.
Before the first gunship touched down, its ramp opened and twenty fully armed and armored Astartes leapt out. However, only half were Black Templars, the other half were Imperial Fists, who had committed four companies to the campaign.
When the greenskins spotted the firstborn sons of Dorn, one shouted, "Um gonna be rich!" And scores of its kin followed it in a headlong charge against the Fists. All were met by the crack of bolter fire and the roar of chainswords, as blood and green flesh were thrown in all directions.
The second Thunderhawk hovered closer to the ground before disgorging its contents. Twenty Sisters Repentia charged out hefting their Eviscerator chainswords and rushing the green line. The Mistress of Repentance followed close behind, though she did not need to prod them forward and quickly joined them. Behind her came Canoness Selina Alexius and thirty Sisters of the Ebon Chalice. The women quickly joined the sons of Dorn and began to dismantle the xenos filth.
Of all of them, it was the contents of the third gunship that truly raised Stephen's eyebrows.
It hovered in midair, at the same height as the first gunship, but when its passengers disembarked it was not a squad of Astartes that leapt from the boxy transport. Instead, it was two dozen spindly, lithe creatures with round, domed heads. Each had glowing blue bulbs for eyes and long, ribbed metallic tubes where their mouths were supposed to be. One, who appeared to be the leader, wore a hooded mantle that went to their shins. The mantle was the same shade of red as the head and upper body of both the Leader and the Followers. All were armed with two swords that thrummed with transonic energy. Stephen could make out a skull and cog emblem on the Leader's mantle and there was no mistaking them, Sicarian Rustwalkers! Warriors of the Skitarii Legions. And not just any legion, but the ones from Mars itself. It seemed that the Priesthood of Mars had taken an interest in the campaign. Though, what that might entail, Stephen would have to ask later.
After the Rustwalkers, another group of humanoids exited the Thunderhawk. Unlike their compatriots, these had more substance. They retained most of their humanity, if only barely. Each of them wore a long red robe, the same color as the Sicarian Princep's mantle, battleplate armor and helmets. Most were armed with radium carbines while a few carried Arc rifles and Plasma Calivers. The Alpha of the group carried a Radium pistol in either hand, with a power sword sheathed at her hip. In all, twenty Skitarii Vanguard disembarked. The last to emerge was a tall humanoid figure, though what humanity he had once had once had was now caste in metal and servos. We wore a long robe the same shade of red as his compatriots, but he carried a massive axe whose head was in the shape of a cog. From his spine sprouted two large servo arms and a collection of mechadindrites. On his right shoulder rested a small servo skull, whose eyes glowed red and whose skeletal jaw hung slack and a rotary gun barrel extended from his mouth. Stephen had seen enough of them to know a Tech-Priest when he saw one. As the Martian cleric hit the ground, he pressed a tune at his wrist and the servo skull took to the air.
It floated several meters upwards and pirouetted in midair. Its eyes blinked as beams of scanner light swept over the battlefield. As the skull's eyes settled on Eva and Stephen, who had killed an additional two dozen greenskins, each, it broke its vigil and flew straight for them. Several Orks were foolish enough to try and stop it. Each of them was struck down by a mass reactive shot from the skull's rotary cannon. It took it mere moments to reach them.
"Brother Stephen of the Black Templars?" asked the skull, in a deep static-laced voice that belied its skeletal appearance. "Sister Eva of the Ebon Chalice?"
"Yes?" they replied as one.
"I am Daylic-191 of the 85th Martian cohort, Tech-Thrall to his holiness, Tech-Priest Enginseer Heinrich Alpha-Sigma. We are here to reinforce and rescue you. Your survival is paramount to the success of this campaign."
"Paramount?" asked Stephen. "What do you mean?"
"It is best that our commander tell you himself. Come, we must reach. I will guide you there."
"I have no ammunition left, just my blade. And Eva has only a few shots left."
"You will not need many, I assure you. The distance is not great, now follow." Daylic-191 fired his rotary cannon into the greenskinned wall punching a deep, bloodstained pilot hole. Eva and Stephen followed the skull into the gap, Eva firing her plasma pistol, until the Orks were on either side of them and they were forced to draw their blades. Both slashed at any xenos foolish enough to attack them, leaving only blood-soaked piles of meat and innards. They rushed through the wall of flesh, Daylic-191 leading the way while Eva and Stephen followed close, and always heading towards the thunder of bolter fire and fume of radium shots.
A short distance away, Eva could see Astartes and Sororitas blasting greenskins to meat and blood. They were almost to safety, but her joy was quickly crushed.
A massive object came plummeting from the heavens with an earthshaking roar and crash of metal and hydraulics. The impact knocked Eva and Stephen several feet through the air and sent Daylic-191 spiraling away. It also knocked scores of greenskins off their feet. As Eva struggled to stand, the dust settled and the bulk of the object came into view.
It was the size of a Dreadnought, but unlike the symmetrical design of the Imperial war machines, this thing was a jagged, slapped together imitation. One arm ended in a crude power claw, the other in a boxy, tubular copy of a bolter. There legs were little more than two hinged support beams actuated by old hydraulic pistons. The body was a steel shell in the shape of a barrel. For a head, it had only a fanged jaw shaped out of metal. However, peaking over the top was the grizzled face of a greenskin, its right eye replaced with a crude cybernetic, little more than a large ruby attached to circuitry.
Eva had seen many of these before and each time brought the same dread. After all an Ork warboss was nothing to scoff at.
"Prepare ta die, humies!" roared the beast. It raised its crude firearm and opened fire. The shots were wild and went in all directions, except forward. Stephen threw himself across Eva in a defensive posture. A few shots pinged of the ceramite of his armor. Most of the fire cut down other greenskins, but it seemed to matter little to the warboss. That was how it was with orks. After all, they would fight one another when there was no one else to fight, caring little for the consequences.
When the salvo ended, Stephen and Eva hurried to their feet and rushed the gargant. Both held their swords two-handed, striking the foe's armor with powerful blows. But for all their fury, the strikes made little impact. Eva's blade pinged off harmlessly while Stephen's hung in the plating. The warboss swatted both of them away with a single swing of its massive arms.
The bolter arm knocked Eva several meters. Her sword was knocked from her hand, landing several feet from her. Stephen was thrown across the dirt by the claw arm. The impact loosened his sword, which he managed to keep hold of. Both ripped off their helmets and coughed up a spray of blood. Stephen grunted as he felt his rib plates fuse back together aided by his Astartes Larraman cells. Eva struggled to her feet, scrambling for her sword and using it as crutch. Once upright, she activated the blade and charged at the Warboss. The agony was blinding and she was so focused on suppressing it and reaching the target, that she didn't hear the blade's power field shut off.
It wasn't until her blade struck the greenskin's armor with a clank of steel on steel did she notice the now deactivated blade. The beast let out a raucous laugh and pummeled her with its massive foot. Eva tumbled end-over-end before coming to a stop several meters away. She laid there, flat of her back, trying to determine which of her organs had been destroyed this time.
Her third death had been caused by a ruptured kidney. Her twenty-second by a heart aneurism. Her eighty-fifth and ninety-eighth were caused by strokes, of which she had had over one hundred since. And her two hundredth twenty-ninth had been caused by liver failure, which she believed had been caused by cirrhosis, though no proof existed.
She felt a sharp pain in her chest, as if a long, jagged needle were piercing through it. The ragged wheeze of her breath and taste of blood in her mouth told her precisely what the injury was.
"Lung puncture," she gurgled to herself. This was not the first one she had experienced. She had punctured her lungs at least two hundred ninety-one times in her life, though none had yet proven fatal. If this wound was as bad as she thought, it would be the first time. And, she thought, if she was lucky it would be her last. Loud clanking drew her attention. The warboss stood over her, leering down at her with its organic eye while the ruby implant burned with a techno-esoteric light that seemed to be burning directly into her soul, she laughed.
Eva had no idea what a person's soul actually looked like, but she pictured her own appearing much like a Mistress of Repentance, with her neural whip in one hand, a chain sword in the other and three or four servo-arms each holding a weapon, sprouting from her back. The thought made her laugh. She wasn't sure if it would have frightened the greenskin, most likely not, but it would certainly have made it second-guess attacking her. The warboss clearly did not see the humor.
The greenskin stepped back, glaring down at Eva, both eyes, organic and not, burning with hatred. It raised its massive, armored foot and the smile on Eva's face dissolved into exasperated disappointment. So this was how her four hundred and twelfth death was to occur? How pitiful. She had been stomped to death by orks nine times and it was by far one of her least favored ways to perish. Though she really had no "preferred" way. Yet there it was. She folded her arms in across her chest in a funerary pose, waiting for the inevitable.
"No!" cried a voice and Eva's eyes flashed open as a loud, crackling thwang sounded.
She looked and was shocked to see Stephen holding the warboss's foot back with his Black Sword. While she appreciated the sentiment and felt her long buried affection for the Templar awaken even more, it also annoyed her. While getting stamped to death wasn't the most glorious way to die, nor the most interesting, it was very much less painful than a damaged organ. Despite her years of experience, Eva wasn't a lover of pain. However, she couldn't fault Stephen for protecting her.
Stephen roared his fury. He had often faced warbosses, though always with a team at his side. This was his first one-on-one duel with one and, he hoped, it would not be his last. The pistons of the ork's mechanical leg whined in protest as Stephen began to shove it back. With another roar and a mighty heave, Stephen pushed the warboss off balance and the monstrosity toppled to the ground with an earsplitting clang.
Once the creature was down, Stephen rushed to Eva's side. "Eva? Eva!" he shouted, his voice quieter without the vox and laced with panic.
"I'm still here," rasped Eva, followed by a blood-soaked cough.
"I'll get you to the healers." Stephen placed one hand behind her back and the other behind her knees. He lifted her as though she weighed nothing and a week smile crossed her face.
Stephen remembered the last time he had seen that look. He had been thirteen and a young lady his own age had given it to him. Now, that same young lady was giving him that look again and it meant the exact same thing.
However, the moment was rudely interrupted as something struck Stephen in the center of his back. The force of the blow caused Stephen to drop Eva, who thudded to the ground, painfully winded. Stephen staggered momentarily, then regained his footing and turned about, drawing his blade in one motion. In the time he had been seeing to Eva, the warboss had risen to its feet. Now, the beast leered at him, its eyes burning with rage.
Stephen having no idea why, said, "Prepare to die! You gretchin lovin' git!"
Fugging hell! thought Stephen, knowing he had likely signed his own death certificate.
"Waaagh!" roared the greenskin. "Die humie!" It charged, under a full head of steam.
Stephen circled to the side so the beast wouldn't step on the still prone Eva. It followed him, missing her by less than a meter. Once he was certain that Eva was safe, Stephen charged, his Astartes musculature closing the distance in seconds. The ork swiped with its power-claw, but Stephen ducked it and struck back. A shower of sparks erupted as steel met steel, scoring a deep gash into the reclaimed metal. The warboss roared and swung its bolter gauntlet in a low sweep. Stephen leapt over it and struck with an underhand strike, severing hydraulics and coolant lines, even digging into the green meat of the creature's arm. The ork roared in pain and threw a backhand swing. Stephen was still in midair and took the full force of the blow across his back. The plating of his power pack was ripped open, exposing the inner workings. Stephen tumbled forward in a somersault before springing to his feet. He lunged and his blade pierced through a chink in the greenskin's armor. Again the beast roared as the crackling energy field cooked the meat beneath. The creature grabbed the sword's hilt, preventing Stephen from retrieving it and batted him in the chest. Stephen groaned as the ceramite buckled under the force of the blow. Another blow cracked the armor plating and loosened Stephen's grip. A third strike broke his grip and sent him flying.
Stephen crashed onto his back and struggled to stand, the wind knocked out of him. The warboss yanked the sword from its side and cast it aside angrily. It stalked towards Stephen with a deep guttural growl. As Stephen rose to his feet, his hand on an object that Eva had dropped in her brief struggle with the warboss. His grip tightened around the handle and he whipped it around just as the beast came close.
The greenskin howled in pain and fury as the unpowered blade punctured its organic eye. It reached up and snapped the blade in half, throwing the now broken off pommel to the side. The creature's bionic burned with fury as it searched for its prey.
Using his foe's wounding to his advantage, Stephen had rushed to the spot where his sword had landed. He found the weapon half buried in the dirt and lifted from the ground at the very moment the greenskin spotted him. It rushed him again and he rushed to meet it, again.
It began to go badly with his headlong rush. He had expected the greenskin to try and strike with its fist again, but he had not counted on its feet. Stephen collided with the creature's left foot and fell flat on his back. Though he did manage to keep ahold of the sword, it did him little good. The warboss kicked him again, this time in his side. Stephen tumbled across the packed dirt like a ball, the pain in his side telling him that his fused ribs had cracked under the force. The warboss let out a gurgling noise that Stephen was convinced was laughter.
"At least one of us is having fun," grunted Stephen, painfully.
The greenskin landed another kick, this time in Stephen's backside. He sailed through the air and skidded several meters. The rocky dirt tore gashes in his face and blood obscured his vision. He wiped his eyes and looked up to get his bearings. He spotted Eva, who had pulled herself into a sitting position against a pile of dead greenskins. She looked at him with only a whisper of recognition.
"Stephen?" asked Eva, her voice weak.
"Yes," replied Stephen, his voice growling and ragged.
"Are you alright?" Her eyes began to grow more focused.
"I've been better." He tried to stand, but the ork's massive foot stamped into his back, pinning him down.
"Win I say 'Prepare to die humie'!" it roared, almost joyously. "You lissen!"
Eva could not believe what she was seeing. In its clawed hand, the creature held Stephen's Black Sword! It looked like a simple knife in its massive powered limb. The power field sputtered as the energy in the blade began to fade. The beast held it underhanded and Eva knew its intent at once.
"No!" the word roared out of her, with the force of a soul exploding as Cadia had. She struggled to unholster her plasma pistol, which held only one single shot. Once it was out, she took careful aim and squeezed the trigger. The bolt rocketed from the barrel and the coils on the weapon's back faded to a dull grey. Eva wanted to cry when the bolt struck the greenskin, but did almost nothing.
The blade appeared to descend in slow motion. Stephen writhed, trying to free himself and the greenskin pushed the weapon down towards him. Eva watched the entire event unfold, unable to move to help him.
A wet cracking sound accompanied the stab. Stephen's eyes popped open, not from surprise, but from the agony of the blow landing. The blade passed between his primary heart and mutli-lung, slashing both. His cry of pain emerged as a wet, rasping exhale.
The greenskin twisted the blade, lacerating the secondary heart and primary lung. Stephen grunted and vomited blood.
With a final shove, the creature buried the sword in Stephen's back all the way to the hilt. Stephen convulsed, blood streaming from his mouth and eyes. He tried to cry out but all that came out was a gargled rasp. Finally, his eyes landed on Eva.
The look on her face was a mixture of anger, fear and sorrow. It was the last thing he saw as the world went dark.
As Stephen's body went limp, Eva screamed her despair. Though she had died many times and always returned, this was a pain… from which she could never recover.
Stephen had held her heart and now it was shattered. How could she possibly go on? She wanted nothing more than for the punctured lung to kill her. And not just kill her, but end her permanently.
The greenskin stalked towards her, prepared to finish the job.
Eva glared at it defiantly. "Go on you filthy gretchin!" she cried. "Finish it!"
Though she still had no idea what a gretchin actually was, she did know that orks hated being called such. And high ranking ones especially, this one being no different.
The beast growled and stomped over to her. "Die humie!" it roared and lifted its foot to crush her, again. Eva straightened her back and glared at the creature defiantly as its foot fell. However, the blow never landed.
The greenskin froze mid-strike and began to wobble as though something was grabbing it from behind.
Eva spotted the fingers of two large, mechanical hands holding onto the greenskin's arms. She heard the shriek of straining metal and covered her head as the warboss's gun arm was ripped off and a cascade of blood and hydraulic fluids crashed down on her.
The creature howled in agony and sank to its knees. As it did so, Eva spotted the bulbous silhouette of a Mechanicus Kastelan Robot. She had never seen one this close in her life. The automaton was as she had heard, larger than an Astartes but smaller the a Dreadnought. Its head was a large red dome broken only by a silver vizor that served as an imitation of human eyes. Its cylindrical body was held up by two humanoid legs attached to its, small for its frame, waist. Its large, hydraulically muscled arms ended in two large power fists. On its right shoulder hung a heavy phosphor blaster, its only ranged weapon.
The warboss roared again, this time with rage and backhanded the automaton with its power-claw. The Kastelan staggered back, loosening its grip. The greenskin threw a punch at it, but the Kastelan blocked the blow and hammered a punch into the creature's chest. The beast staggered back and glared at the automaton.
"Um gonna make scrap outta ya!" roared the greenskin.
"I will feed you to your squgs," chimed the Kastelan, in its distinctive mechanical voice. "Filthy gretchin."
"Stop sighin' dat!" The beast rushed the automaton. Both collided and locked up. The ork's power-claw bit into the Kastelan's forearm, while the automaton's power-fists tore into the greenskin's exposed flesh. It seemed the two were at an impasse, until the odds changed.
A small figure appeared running up the automaton's back. It wore no armor, only a leather tunic and a bright red head covering. In its hands it carried a massive chainsword, longer than it was tall. Based on how its garments fit it, the figure was clearly female. Eva knew the silhouette anywhere, having worn it herself many years earlier… a Sister Repentia.
The small woman, without power armor and only her Eviscerator chainsword as armament, rushed at the greenskin's face. It appeared to smile at her, until the Sister's blade struck it in the side of its head. The Sister revved the blade and the teeth bit into the tissue. Chunks of mutilated green flesh and blood were sent flying.
The greenskin kicked the automaton away and tried to swat the Sororitas off. Its power-claw struck its own face as the Sister loosened her blade and spun away. The impact pushed the shard of Eva's sword through the warboss's skull and out the back, making it roar with agony again. The Repentia struck again, this time next to the ork's bionic eye. The beast aimed another punch for the Sister, but again it missed and struck its own eye as the Repentia spun around behind its head. The force of the blow shattered the eye, rendering the creature blind. Its fury exploded and it began to strike at its skull wildly. One swipe slashed the Repentia's leg. She sank to one knee, shrieking in pain. Moments later, she aimed her blade directly at the back of the greenskin's skull. She revved the chain and shoved it forward with all of her strength. The ork roared its agony, but it was quickly silenced as the chain blade emerged from inside its mouth. The Sororitas pulled the blade upwards with a massive effort and lifted it free sending minced brain and bone showering down.
The warboss's lifeless corpse staggered for a moment and then began to slowly collapse.
The Repentia braced for impact on the greenskin's back, then leapt to safety just before it struck the ground. It was the last thing Eva saw, before her vision darkened and death embraced her.