LITANY IV
"Communication with Captain Yegenov has been lost, Inquisitor. I can contact Company B; they have not been able to reach the Captain either," a brown habit-wearing Acolyte said to his superior, the stern-faced Inquisitor Feordervich.
The Inquisitor nodded, suspecting as much. From the last vid-feeds sent by the Comte's command staff he knew what their fate would be, and instantly ordered his scribe to search the records for matches of the creatures. The answer came back quickly and it was enough to make the Imperial Judgement think of Exterminatus.
But only as a last resort. If the genestealer infestation could be contained and neutralised then it would not be necessary to steralise the entire planet of Terra Feugo. The Imperium did not like loosing worlds, and then there was the paperwork.
"Can you raise Sister Superior Gloria?" the Inquisitor asked.
"I can, Sir. Do you want me to?"
"Tell them that I will speak to them shortly," he replied. First he had to formulate his plan with the limited forces that he now had at his disposal: one company of Stormtroopers, obviously no match for the inhuman killing machines that had destroyed Company A in efficient order, his own retinue that whilst experienced, he did not want to sacrifice on the front line, himself, and mad Priest Rasputin's flagellants.
Just thinking about the slathering Priest made Feordervich's skin crawl, and few things unsettled the Inquisitor at all. Rasputin was something else, much more than a holy man. Some said he was a prophet and could tell the future. Feordervich only had him on board his ship, locked in a storage hold with his servants, because Rasputin's brother had been his mother's Confessor. Feordervich believed that it was the death of Rasputin's brother at the hands of heretical traitors that sent the Priest insane. Recalling the animal ferocity of the genestealers the Inquisitor wondered which of the two was the worst.
"Have all forces assemble at the main hanger where I will address them in half an hour. I must prepare for battle."
Gloria ordered her squad to take a break, two Sisters on guard by the door at all times. They had repaired into a canteen to slake their first. The nutrient feeds from their power armour could only do so much in a high-stress environment.
Verona went over to where Gloria sat, looking at the base's schematic, and sat down beside her offering a bottle of water. "Drink this, you need it."
Gloria took the bottle. "Thanks," she said. The chilled water refreshed her throat and helped dry away the heat of the exhaust tower.
"Found a way into the Palace?" Verona asked quietly.
Gloria put the bottle down and shook her head. All the entrances they had found so far had either been barricaded too well for their explosives, or already destroyed and unpassable. There was no way in, unless the defenders opened one for them, and they had not been able to find or contact any.
Company B was also no help. Traitors and mutants had surrounded the position and were besieging the Stormtroopers. So far no monsters had made an appearance but that would change when they arrived after slaughtering the Captain's force. For now, Gloria had looked on, the Stormtroopers were holding their position and it was well fortified, but isolated. Gloria did not want that to happen to her Sisters; keep moving was the key to survival for her small band but options were running out.
"Sister Superior!" Sister Marie ran up to her superior. "It's the flagship!" The communications Sister looked relieved, as if the saviour had already come to rescue them.
"Finally!" Verona exclaimed. Gloria through her a look and she fell silent.
"Sister Gloria here," Gloria announced, patching into the channel.
"Sister Superior. The Inquisitor will speak to you shortly. Advise of your current situation, over," a safe communication's officer most likely said. Gloria related her squads encounter and was in turn told of the enemy they had faced. Genestealers, advance forces of a Tyranid invasion. Both words meant nothing to the Sister, her battles had been against heretics and a few times Orks. Her new knowledge of the genestealers was that they were fast and deadly. The short communication ended and the other Sisters crowded around her. She told them what she had been told.
"So the Inquisitor is coming down to save our butts again them is he?" Rachael said.
"You spent too much time with the Stormtroopers, Sister Rachael, to talk like that," Gloria frowned. The formal tone to her friend showed her displeasure. Chastised, and a little hurt, Rachael drifted to the back of the crowd.
"Do we wait here until they arrive?" Sister Helen asked.
"I don't know," Gloria replied, "until Inquisitor Feordervich tells me his plan. I doubt he is coming to the planet just to save us."
"It must be bad if he is. The… genestealers were tearing those Stormtroopers apart." Verona said.
"Have Faith, Sisters. Faith in the Emperor above all else, Faith in the Inquisitor, Faith in your weapons, and Faith in each other. We will survive this," Gloria said strongly. She was the leader and could show no weakness at times such as the current.
The Sisters went back to their thoughts. Some checked and cleaned their weapons using the water and towels in the canteen. Others counted the few rounds of ammunition that they had left. A few sat and waited, nervous. All moved their lips in silent prayer. Even Gloria found herself holding onto her Ikon, tied loosely around her waist.
They did not have to wait long before the Inquisitor came onto the channel personally.
"Sister Superior, I have been informed of your status. Tell me your plan?" the Inquisitor's voice was like granite over the channel, unyielding. Reassuring the Sisters who lived most of their lives within the stone walls of a Convent.
"I have tried to enter the Palace but the ways are blocked. Our ammunition is little. It was my objective to enter the Palace and either defend there or extract," Gloria replied.
"A prudent plan for the survival of your small force. However, these genestealers are a menace to the Imperium and must be eradicated completely from this world."
"Yes, Inquisitor." Gloria felt her heart sink. Was her squad to be sacrificed after all?
"But do not despair,"
"Never, Inquisitor."
"Good," Feordervich said with a trace of amusement, "I have your location marked. Ten points to the North East a barrage shall be laid down clearing the way for my assault force to land. You are to rendezvous with us there to be resupplied. Then we shall attack the heretics and their abominations and destroy them. Company B will hold its position on our flank and occupy the ordinary traitors."
"And what of the Palace Guard?" Gloria asked.
"The Palace is unreachable. Possibly all the defenders are already dead. Genestealers may have breached the defences."
Gloria asked a few more questions and then the conference was at an end. The passed on the basics of the plan to her Sisters and they got ready for the bombardment to begin. When it ended they would race as fast as they could to the drop zone.
Dressed in crimson, an Imperial Ikon hanging over his chest, Inquisitor Feordervich strode into the hanger and quickly inspected the lines of Stormtrooper Company C. All the men in their dark armour carried additional clips of ammunition and hand grenades. Flamers had been handed out to weapon specialists. The men looked confident, although many cast sideways glances to the left and Feordervich's own lip curled.
That was where the Priest Rasputin and a dozen servants stood holding bloody chainswords and cleavers. Then there were half a dozen of the flagellants, half-man half-machine mockeries of life that had once been humans that had lived a life of crime or penitentiary-devotion, and had been branded to serve the Emperor as little more than thoughtless killing machines.
"Men," the Inquisitor shouted from the head of the parade. "Soldiers. Warriors! Today is your day to show your devotion to your Emperor, and to your comrades. The planet below is a haven of traitors! And a hive of aliens. Both must be destroyed to the safety of the Imperium. This is your task, and I know that you will accomplish it, because you have never failed me, or your Emperor before. You wear the Black because of this; the best of the best the Guard can train. Whom do you serve until Death?"
"The Emperor!" a hundred Stormtroopers shouted back.
"Whom do you serve in Death?" Inquisitor Feordervich raised his Ikon above his head.
"The Emperor!"
"Let us pray!"
The bombardment shook the room.
"Okay, Sisters, lets go!" Gloria picked up her bolter and jogged to the doorway. The rest of the squad fell in behind. The corridor was empty and they rushed down it; it was a kilometre to the drop zone and would take twenty minutes to get there. By then the assault force would have landed.
Half of time passed without incident. Then Sister Beatrice bringing up the back of the Squad announced that she could hear what they all dreaded: hissing. The genestealers had caught up to them or were heading to the drop zone as well to attack the re-enforcements.
"Faster!" Gloria shouted. If she stopped that would be the end. Her small force didn't have enough firepower or ammunition to hold off a sustained attack, and she didn't want to find out how many genestealers there were behind her. Beatrice was given a mine and she armed it against a wall before covered by two Sisters before they ran back to rejoin the others.
Not long after the mine exploded with inhuman screeches. The genestealers were not far behind.
The Sisters ran into an atrium. A staircase wound up, where they had to go. A fountain, cracked and empty resided in the middle of the room. The Sisters took the stairs four at a time until they came to the landing at the top. There Rachael turned around and ignited her heavy flamer.
"Here they come," she said plainly.
And she was correct. Spilling like an ugly tide through the opening the six-limbed genestealers entered the atrium. Then flashes and bursts erupted on the lead group, exploding their purple carapace bodies apart. Thick globs of alien flesh and blood splattered the floor. Corpses piled up on each other at the entrance.
But the wave pushed through. Genestealers took to the walls, using their long and sharp claws, easily wicket enough to slice through the power armour of the Sisters, to give them climbing purchase. More fanned out drawing the Sister's wavering fire, reducing the volume directed at just the one point.
"Keep them away from the walls!" Gloria shouted over the firing. "Don't waste your ammunition."
"Bring them on!" Rachael growled and went half day down the staircase to the shock of the others who called for her to come back. The impervious Sister ignored them, a finger waiting on the trigger as a pod of genestealers rushed towards her.
They came up the stairs with fast leaping bounds almost too fast for Rachael to react. Her finger pressed down at the last possible moment; compressed gas was expelled from the nozzle of the bulky weapon, coming into contact with a hissing blue flame and there it was transformed into boiling hell and propelled in a roaring, expanding cloud, down the staircase, the heatwave of which washed back over the Sisters searing their faces with intense, righteous, heat.
The genestealers crackled and burnt, blackened charcoal bodies breaking into chunks on the stairs, rolling off to shatter below, or vapourised completely, drifted on the heated currents like dead petals.
But there were more behind. Too many and they kept swarming forward, hissing and spitting, arms stretching forward wanting to rend the Sisters apart. Rachael sent more spurts of flame into the ever-closing enemy, retiring up the stairs one at a time until she was back with the others, no more space to retreat to.
Their firing was little more than a nuisance. More than half the Sisters waited with empty bolters for the inevitable.
"I've got one more blast," Rachael said. The monsters were on the walls and the roof and about to attack them on all sides.
"At least it will be quick," Verona put in, she didn't doubt that a genestealers claw could pierce her power armour.
"Everybody get back!" Sister Marie shouted, "NOW!"
Why? Rachael was going to yell back at her when the ceiling cracked and collapsed and the temperature soared and bright yellow and orange light blinded her. The noise was deafening, like the landing of a spacecraft.
Which was literally what was happening. A dropship had smashed its way through the layers above into the atrium, its jets and weight crushing over a dozen genestealers beneath before it came to a shuddering halt, more genestealers falling from the shattered roof or walls.
The Sisters too were blown down by the unexpected impact. Gloria pulled herself up and looked over the landing's wall to see the hatch of the dropship fall open. Jets of gas and steam hissed out blocking her view of the interior of the dropship and she could hear nothing, ears ringing.
The genestealers recovered with more speed forming into a phalanx by the front of the dropship but not advancing further. They too waited for what was going to come out, confident in their number of nearly two-dozen.
Through the gas seven forms stepped. Six of them were hunched over, near-dead looking emancipated bodies. One had half of its head removed, a clear plastic dome revealing a shrivelled brain connected to wires and tubes. Another was missing the bottom half of its jaw. All of them had instead of hands at the end of their limbs, whirling saws, blades, or spiked metal balls. Red eyes swept across the mass of genestealers.
The seventh figure, standing upright behind his minions, was the Priest Rasputin, a tall, hazard-bearded dark-skinned man. In one hand he held a large volume of Imperial Writ. The other was a pistol in the shape on an Ikon, at bladed at the back. His eyes were mad, possessed. He pointed at the genestealers.
The two packs rushed at each other. One pack organic monster, the other synthetic. The arco-flagellants, arms spinning chaotically, scythed their way into the middle of the genestealers, limbs and gore flying into the air. The genestealers tore back, ripping chunks out of the flagellants; yet that did not stop them, their minds detached from all sensation except that killing enemies made them feel good. The flagellants liked to feel good, better than feeling nothing. The killing thus continued, a massacre of both sides. One flagellant, so overworked, so overjoyed, a detached leer on its lipless face, simply stopped moving and fell over, cardiac arrest. Five genestealers lay around it.
When it was over, and it was over quick, the flagellants were little more than pieces of ripped flesh and metal. Only a few genestealers remained, most a pulpy mess. Rasputin drew attention to himself by shooting one. The others ran at him only to be shot down by the last of the Sister's ammunition.
Rasputin looked up at them and growled unintelligibly. Spittle covered his beard.
"That was… insane," Sister Marie said, shocked. Adrenaline was so thick through her bloodstream that her eyes were wide and circular and she was having trouble standing still.
"Let's get out of here, we still need to rearm and this isn't over," Gloria announced.
And it wasn't. Fighting raged for the remainder of the day as C Company flamed its way down into the depths of the power facility, Gloria's Sisters at the vanguard. The arco-flagellants had destroyed most of the genestealers along with themselves leaving only scattered groups that quickly fell to the massed firepower and flamers of the Inquisitorial force. B Company counter-attacked the mutants and drove them against the walls of the Palace where they were mercilessly butchered. Thoughtless servitors and robots were used to detonate bombs inside the genestealers lower tunnels.
As the sky unseen above turned to dark red Gloria led her Sisters back to where A Company had given its last stand. There the hardened fighters could barely look as the corridors and floor were a butchers workhouse. Red coated the walls, splattered the ceiling. Bodies, scores of bodies, floated in it. Sisters knelt and prayed for the cruelly slain.
Gloria kept walking until she came to the command office. The door had been ripped off its hinges, long tears running down it. Looking inside she saw more horror.
"Half a dozen bodies were piled on the doorway, trying to stop them from getting in." Inquisitor Feordervich said. His crimson robes were stained a different red, and some purple.
"They came in through the window," Gloria replied absently. She was numb; she had never seen anything like this before on any battlefield. "We couldn't do anything."
Feordervich nodded. Medics and Aides were sorting through the pile of bodies looking for missing limbs or heads trying to put bodies back together for transportation back to the ship and cremation.
"They fought to their last, I guess." Gloria tried to sound as if that were a good thing. Seeing such death… she couldn't feel any pride for the last stand. Loss. Somewhere in there was the Comte.
"Millions die everyday," the Inquisitor said harshly. "Throughout the Imperium against enemies we have no knowledge of. Against aliens, against heretics and traitors."
"Inquisitor?"
The Inquisitor laughed a short bitter laugh. "Do not think me having doubts, Sister Superior. Without this sacrifice billions would die instead, more than worlds, star systems would fall and Chaos would reign. Mankind would fall into darkness and not emerge without the Light of the Emperor. Death is the duty of a soldier."
"Faith is our shield against all enemies," Gloria said, instantly feeling stupid for a rote saying. The Inquisitor had just shared his unguarded thoughts with her.
Feodervich's own shield returned and he looked at Gloria from the corner of his eye. "Take your squad to the Governor's Residence. B Company has occupied most of the Palace and released detainees."
"Yes, Inquisitor."
"I will meet you there when this mess has been cleaned and consecrated."