Prologue
The orks of Clan Blackjawz charged screaming through the streets. Not one payed heed to the incoming fire more than a river would heed one small rock thrown in. The streets turned to rivers of green, and like a powerful river breaking through a dam, they smashed through all barricades. The unstoppable tide of death and destruction was enough to shake the bravest. And yet in one place the foul xeno were held back.
Like a mountain rising up from the sea they stood and fought their desperate battle. Flamers poured out steady gouts of flame, bolters and heavy bolters kept up their staccato chatter whilst the red streaks from lasguns also took their toll on the greenskins.
Wave after wave was thrown back and yet like a rising tide they retreated later and later. Grenades were thrown and heavy weapons fired, creating small pockets of emptiness, like bubbles of air in water.
And yet the xeno fire took its toll on the defenders as well. Here and there men crumpled while still firing and yelling battle cries. And when they crumpled the others stepped back to fill the empty space once more.
The transport ships were weaving to and fro, evacuating people while avoiding the deadly spray of the sea. Naught was safe from the raging sea. Buildings cracked and fell, temporarily stopping the flow, but seconds later the obstruction was under the sea level. People ran screaming from the deadly tide but were caught as the sea flowed through doors and windows of the buildings ahead and to the side of them.
The sea had now reached the summit of the mountain and for a few seconds the tide was stalled. The line buckled, then the tide broke through and the last resistance swept away.
I turned away from the window and studied the other occupants of the ship. Raynor, a large man with finely chiselled features and huge muscles had a bandage wrapped around his head and a deep gash in his arm that he affected not to notice.
Rimat, a small man seemed the exact opposite of Raynor. Where he was dark and black haired Raynor was light and fair haired, his constant prattle an often unwelcome contrast to Raynor's stoic silence. Rimat had been hit in the leg by a stray bullet.
Sitting in another chair was Caelix. An average appearing man he had surprised many who opposed him. His calm exterior hid a raging beast within and his boyish looks had lured many an enemy to its death. He was deadly accurate at range and in hand to hand he was a master. He had somehow managed to escape from the battle unscathed.
In the last seat was Kaju. Bereft of the usual second skin of dirt that a veteran soldier wore he was almost clean. His blue eyes saw everything and his quick reflexes had saved him many times in the past few days. He had been a champion runner on his home world and he was clearly built for it. Thin and small he had long, lanky, legs that helped him attain the place of champion on his home world. A new recruit he had been put in this war torn area by the worst type of bad luck. Today he had lost his brother in the urban warfare.
I closed my eyes and settled back into my seat. The past few days had been exhausting both physically and mentally. Seven members of my squad had been lost and the city we were defending had been compromised. For now I was glad just to be able to finally get some proper sleep.