Ancra Mortis Chapter 10
Across the infinite depths of space two ships moved, the first was a ramshackle collection of scrap and gunz. It was built upon a far older frame but none who looked upon it would have recognised it, for it was an ugly assortment of parts and bodged plates that would have horrified any Tech-Priest with its lack of sanctity. She was the Bighamma and she was fleeing on a comet tail of plasma wash, putting the world of Glaeba behind and not looking back.
In close pursuit followed a far smaller vessel, it was a torn and bloodied sight with long rips across its spine that revealed the ruptured compartments within. Spetsai, and the crippled Dauntless was chasing the fleeing Orks with all that she had. Occasionally flashes of lance fire would leap from her bow to rake the Greenskin's shields, but alone the vessel lacked the power to do any real harm. Despite all the heroism the Imperial ship could not stop the Orks escaping. Had the situation remained as it was then the outcome of this conflict could never have been doubted, but a new force was about to enter the fray. From far behind the pair of combatants a flash of reflected light heralded the arrival of a half-dozen metal cylinders, moving far faster than either ship could hope to achieve. They were boarding torpedoes, filled with the deadliest warriors humanity possessed and they were on the hunt.
Bighamma saw the threat approaching and greeted them with sprays of fire from grids of point defence turrets. Lines of tracers shot out into the dark, threading the darkness with tiny motes of light but the defence was sporadic and mostly ineffectual. Only one Torpedo was caught by the blasts and was rendered into a bloom of fire, but fortune smiled upon the attacker for it was a mere decoy, only two torpedoes actually held living souls. In moments the spread of missiles closed with the Ork ship and began their final assault run, spears of melta blasts shooting ahead to gouge away at the ship's thick armour. They impacted with force enough to shatter mortal spines as massive drill heads began chewing away at the weakened metal, the torpedoes clawing their way inside. Finally they came to rest before spraying quick setting foam all around, sealing off the escaping air.
Inside Bighamma the torpedoes clinked as they cooled and then the drill heads lifted away to reveal the interiors, they were filled with darkness but quickly armoured warriors poured forth. They spread out with bolters raised, looking for threats, but found themselves in a deserted hold, bereft of enemies. Among the group was a Tactical squad under Sergeant Mylos along with Captain Toran's command squad as well as Apothecary Memnos. Toran surveyed their surroundings for a moment then opened his vox and said, "Group Two, report."
Over the vox came a voice, "Sergeant Priyar reporting, I have Lorath and Zeax's squads with me, we have arrived with no causalities. Auspex says we are only two decks beneath you."
Toran was relieved to hear that and said, "Excellent, rendezvous with us as soon as possible, we need to link up and hit the Orks hard."
"Yes Brother-Captain," said Priyar, "Do we go forwards or backwards?"
Toran paused for half a heartbeat, the Codex Astartes dictated that the most vital areas on any ship were the bridge and the Enginarium, but they lacked the forces to hit both simultaneously. The Captain made an instant decision and declared to all, "Forwards, we hit the bridge and kill the Warboss, Ork discipline shatters without their leader-beast."
Instantly the squads broke up and moved out, advancing in staggered waves, each group dashing under the cover of their brother's bolters before dropping to a knee and doing the same for their kin. Swiftly the assault group moved forwards, penetrating ever deeper into the ship and as they progressed Toran turned to Persion, "Have you managed to decode their vox net yet?"
Persion was a communication specialist and he replied, "Wasn't much to decode really, mostly it's just grunts and shouting. They know we are here, Ork Boyz are sweeping the ship looking for us."
From beside him Jediah growled, "Good, I thought my blade would taste no blood on this mission."
Barely had the words left his mouth when the group barrelled into a party of Orks racing the other way. They were a motley collection of filthy brutes, covered in scraps of plate armour, spare pistols and trophy teeth, shorn hands and shiny bits. The Orks were grotesquely over muscled and everything about them screamed their savage nature, they were offensive parodies of the noble Astartes form but there were hundreds of them and they were charging right at the boarding party.
Immediately Toran yelled, "Overwatch, rapid fire!" and thunder erupted as every bolter let fly. A hurricane of mass reactive shells met the Orks head-on as they charged, blowing off limbs and opening chests in sprays of gore. Dozens of greenskins fell in the first salvo but the rest pressed on into the teeth of the incoming fire, stepping upon their dead and wounded with total disregard, even crushing to death some who may have lived. The corridor ahead filled wall to wall with green bodies and then with cleavers raised the Orks charged into combat crying, "Waaagh!" Instantly the Space Marines drew combat blades and leapt to meet them, hacking and slashing with furious abandon. It was a test of savagery, to determine which side could be the most brutal and ferocious, exactly the kind of fight at which Astartes excelled.
Toran was charged by a trio of Orks bearing gore-stained cleavers. They came at him in a frenzy of blows but the Captain was faster, drawing his relic blade to meet them with a wide slash. The legendary Sword of Thiel parted armour effortlessly and carved through metal plates, muscles and bone like damp parchment, leaving the Orks to collapse in piles of offal. Toran was stunned by his own feat and almost overbalanced, the last time he had fought Orks he had not been armed with so mighty a weapon and the ancient electromagnetic longsword surpassed anything he had wielded previously.
With a proud shout the Captain leapt into the fray, hacking left and right and every blow took down an Ork as he waded through the fight like a man forcing a passage through a swift river. As he fought Toran could see his brothers hacking and stabbing the Orks with all their might, crushing the foe with relentless fury. He spied Furion wrestling an Ork with a long scar over one of its eyes, their hands struggling over a rusty cleaver as they fought for supremacy. Furion would not be denied and between his own strength, and the might of his Mark III plate, he gained the edge and forced the blade backwards. Slowly he overpowered the Greenskin before driving its own blade into its heart.
In the heart of the melee Bylan was hacking left and right with a combat blade while blasting away with a bolt pistol, it was strange to see him without the Company Standard in hand, but on this mission such an encumbrance would be more hindrance than a help. Elsewhere Persion had drawn a red-hot friction axe and was cleaving Orks apart, they tried to stop him but he shattered their crude weapons with his axe before smiting them with savage barks of rage. Beside him Jediah fought with a fractal edged short sword. His style was completely different, parrying expertly as he waited for an opening then stabbing opportunistically to tear out throats and pierce eyesockets.
As he fought on Toran heard a cry and saw Brother Kandar of Mylos' squad fall with a blade through his throat, he was avenged by Apothecary Memnos who leapt to stab his attacker in the back before the Ork could pull its blade back. Memnos turned his back on the foe and knelt to harvest Kandar's gene-seed, performing his sacred duty even in the thick of combat. It fell to Novak to stand over him and guard the Apothecary as he worked, tearing apart any Ork with his Master-crafted sword 'Honour's Edge'. There was a sublime grace to the Company Champion's movements, a smooth elegance to his kills that was completely at odds with the brutality of the Orks.
Toran saw that despite their overwhelming numbers the Orks were falling fast and the battle was slowly turning in the Astartes' favour but then another force came into play. From behind the Orks came righteous cries and the unmistakable sound of chainswords as a second party of marines barrelled into the fray. The horde parted and Toran saw Sergeant Priyar's forces entering the battle. With him were the Assault Marines of Sergeant Lorath, who fell upon the Ork's rearguard with lightning speed and Zeax's Devastators, bringing up the rear.
Toran seized the moment to cry, "Forwards brothers, for Terra and the memory of Roboute Guilliman!" as he hacked at the wall of green flesh.
Furion followed him shouting, "No hesitation, no respite, no mercy!"
As one the Space Marines threw themselves forwards while the second group closed in, catching the Orks between them. Beset on both sides the Orks fell in droves and their courage shattered, they turned to flee but there was nowhere to run and not a single Greenskin survived the retribution of the Storm Heralds. As silence fell Toran stood gasping for air as his genhanced body fought to restore equilibrium. The Captain nodded in gratitude to the newly arrived Sergeants but then gathered himself up, he refused to show weakness before his Marines and said, "Onward brothers, the bridge is beyond the next hatch."
Instantly the squads formed up, focussed and ready, all trace of banter was gone now war was upon them and each marine thirsted for the next fight. Toran held his sword tight and led them down the corridor, passing through several hatches as they closed on the bridge. A handful of Orks confronted them en-route but these were gunned down in short order. The combined force soon approached the bridge and as expected they saw it was the most heavily defended part of the ship. A long nave stretched away from them, bare and bereft of cover, before abruptly ending in a massively reinforced hatch. Before the hatch were lines of fearsome Greenskins, dug in behind piles of debris and shorn metal spars. Scores upon scores of gunz pointed down the corridor, along with rokkets and Zzap guns, behind those were mobs of Boyz with Choppa's and serrated knives, waiting eagerly for the Space Marines to appear.
Persion saw the emplacement as they ran and shouted, "This is going to cost us!"
Toran realised that he was right and decided the time had come to play his trump card, he held up a clenched fist and every paused as he ordered, "Hold here Brothers and make way... Zeax, bring up your squad!" There was a few seconds delay and before the crump of heavy feet ringing on the deck plates rang out, a shadow falling over the waiting squads as truly massive forms loomed.
Toran saw the Devastator squad advancing in massively augmented exoskeleton frames that wrapped their normal gear with thick ablative plates. Their arms bore the heaviest of weapons and upon their chests were multiple lines of bolters and grenade launchers. Their legs had been reinforced with pistons to support the additional weight and their mass made the deck plates sag under the strain. These were the most ferocious of line breakers available to Astartes, offering protection and firepower that rivalled Terminator armour, but was far more brutal in its application. Used only for the breaking of sieges or charging directly into the teeth of an embedded enemy position, this was the armour Astartes called upon when they intended not merely to break a foe but to shatter them utterly. Centurions, nine of them.