Ancra Mortis Chapter 11
With a thunder that shook the ship the Centurions began their run, heavy footfalls rattling deck plates and their looming forms eclipsing the flickering lights. Their force and bulk were irresistible, their mass exceeding the largest of Orks. They were like an avalanche already in motion or an oncoming train bearing down on a trapped animal. Return fire pinged off their plates but Centurions had been designed to march into the fiercest of sieges and they brushed off the salvo with contemptuous disdain.
The Orks bellowed in bestial rage to see the Centurion's inexorable advance and redoubled their fire, flinging torrents of rokkets and bullets at the oncoming juggernauts. The ablative plates over the Space Marines' chest and legs were quickly cratered by impacts but the armour served its purpose and preserved the warriors beneath. On the barricades the Orks saw the futility of their efforts and resorted to a more drastic measure, parting to reveal a bulky Zzap gun mounted on a two-wheeled trailer. Under the direction of a shouting Mekboy the gun was dragged about before a Gretchin was kicked to pull the firing lever. It proved a wise precaution because poor insulation fed electricity right back into the handle and fried the Grot alive, but then the gun fired a sparking arc of green lighting.
Energy leapt the intervening distance and engulfed an oncoming Centurion, covering him in coruscating electrical bonds that bored into the plate, chewing away ceramite and plasteel in seconds. The Centurion staggered as his exoskeleton failed and the Orks swiftly concentrated their fire, inundating him in bullets. A hundred rounds found their way into his flesh and the Space Marine fell, hitting the deck with a resounding clang. The Astartes were enraged to see one of their own fall and they responded in kind, three of the Centurions bore under-slung heavy bolters and hurricane bolters mounted to their chests, and they opened fire with a snap of thunder to spray the Ork defences with a torrent of mass reactive shells. The Orks were forced to duck as their barricades fell apart and the returning fire slackened off.
Instantly the Centurions redoubled their pace, closing with unstoppable might and as they closed in the five other Centurions raised their arms. They unleashed pairs of flamers, sweeping the barricades with plumes of incinerating heat. Ork flesh broiled and Grots were set alight, flailing wildly before falling down. The Greenskins wailed in horror but the Centurions were not done yet, at the last second frag grenades on their chest exploded outwards, spraying the Orks with shrapnel at the exact moment the Centurions hit home.
The juggernauts ripped right through the barricades as if they weighed nothing and then huge, spinning siege drills were carving into green flesh, eviscerating everything within reach. Any other foe would have been shattered instantly but Orks responded with bestial fury, throwing themselves at the Astartes in a frenzy of stabbing hatchets and cleaving choppas. Their attacks were savage and brutal, backed by inhuman strength, ferocity and an insane stubborn refusal to admit defeat. It didn't matter.
The Centurions slaughtered everything they hit, slamming their siege drills into the surrounding Orks to rip and tear and gouge. Nothing could stand against them, nothing could deny their advance and all they targeted fell in steaming chunks of offal. Showers of gore and blood sprayed everywhere and the Centurions' noble colours were swiftly obscured by filthy Xenos entrails. Meanwhile the rest of the boarding party had not been idle, racing forwards the second they saw the Ork's defensive fire slacken off. Toran was at their head, holding his relic blade aloft as he cried, "Follow me brothers, show them your fury!"
With a righteous cry the Space Marines fell upon the broken Ork formation, massacring the Greenskins left and right. Caught between two foes the fight should have been one-sided and ended in moments but the moment the first blade fell there was an earth-shaking rumble and the great hatch to the bridge split down the middle to create a wide aperture. From the gap poured an immense wave of fresh Orks, racing into the melee screaming at the top of their lungs. Toran saw the reinforcements cascading out of the bridge and knew the pivotal moment had come: the Orks were throwing everything they had at the Space Marines so surely the Warboss must be here. Even as he fended off a crude Choppa he scanned the crowd, then he spotted one Ork bigger than all the rest. It was a massive dark-skinned brute, clad in what looked like a shattered suit of Cataphratii Terminator armour and holding a vicious hook in each hand that crackled with coruscating energy.
Toran shouted, "The warboss is here!" as he began hacking a path to the towering monster. His command squad followed in his wake, forming an arrowhead of blue in a sea of green. The Ork leader saw them coming and bellowed an ear-splitting roar that sprayed spittle over its fellows, it held out one sparking hook at Toran as a challenge and shouted, "Dat one's Mine!"
Instantly the crowd of Orks parted, instinctively recognising the right of Challenge between two leaders, it was a creed that went beyond species barrier, a rite that was universal in its application. Toran saw the path open to the beast and strode forwards, waving his command squad back. Novak twitched, for as Company Champion he could stand in the Captain's place, but Toran had been held back from battle too long and he wanted the kill himself, so he stilled his brother with a shake of the head. The Ork roared furiously and clashed its hooks together over its head to spray green sparks of energy into the air. Toran for his part raised the Sword of Thiel upright before his eyes, not honouring his foe but the spirit of his weapon and praying it would prove true once more. Then the pair of combatants leapt at each other.
The Ork came at Toran with a flurry of attacks from its pair of hooks, Toran parried with the long blade of his sword, keeping it at bay with a series of deft deflections. The strength of the Ork numbed his arm and its speed was remarkable but Toran had duelled Chaos Lords and Archons and knew well how to fight a better opponent. He angled his blade so that the next blow glanced past, pulling the Ork off balance and then he swept around to tear the tip of his blade across its shoulder. Plates parted and Toran saw gunmetal grey armour, doubtlessly torn from a traitorous Iron Warrior, stained by thick Xenos blood.
The Ork bellowed in anger and pain from the wound, in a flash it barrelled forwards, using its bulk as a weapon. Toran was caught off guard by the unexpected move and was thrown backwards. Even as he stumbled the Ork's hooks swept low and carved into his belly armour. Toran's Iron Halo flared but only slowed the blow and the hook tore into his belly, armour parted and blood flowed freely leaving his insides bleeding profusely and his intestines an inch from falling out. The Captain fell back desperately as his guts burned, waves of heat building within his torso as Toran's genhanced physique flooded his wound with Larraman's cells to form thick scabs. The Ork laughed to see his injury and raised its hooks in triumph, glorying in the bloodshed and that was when Toran saw its weakness.
Slowly the Captain lowered his blade until the tip touched the floor, the Ork frowned in confusion at the move but then its thirst for bloodshed overcame its caution and it charged forwards, hooks extended for the kill. Toran let it come, not even trying to parry but then at the last second he spun to the right. Agony flared within his guts as his wound pulled but he mastered it, riding the torment and using the fire to dodge the Ork and as he did so he kicked out at the back of the beast's exposed knee.
The blow would have shattered human bone, it would have caved in plasteel and dented ceramite, but all it did to the Ork was make it stumble, yet that was enough. The Ork was off balance for a heartbeat and as it tried to turn about to face the Captain, Toran's blade was coming right at it, stabbing the point into its face and penetrating right out the other side. The Ork stood still for a moment as its body registered that it was dead, then Toran withdrew his blade and the beast fell backwards to clang loudly off the deck. With their leader dead the courage of the Orks snapped and they turned to run. They did not get far for the Space marines chased them with sweeps of bolter fire, gunning them down from behind as they fled.
Toran was bent over almost double, leaning upon his sword even as his implanted organs sought to close his wounds and restore vitality. Yet the Captain knew he could not let his Marines see any weakness and forced himself upright, even though he felt like death warmed up. He swayed a little but held himself upright and looked upon the battlefield, seeing Greenskin corpses everywhere and a pair of blue armoured bodies that he had not seen fall.
Toran was about to order his Marines onto the bridge but Persion suddenly interrupted saying "Captain, there is a signal, I think you will want to hear this."
The Vox crackled and a distant tinny voice came through saying, "Damn it all, can you hear me? I repeat, this is Chaplain Wrethan calling boarding party, can you hear me?"
Toran opened his link and said, "Chaplain Wrethan this is Captain Toran, we hear you."
Wrethan's voice came back, "Thank the Divine Emperor, Captain you are in grave peril, you must evacuate the ship at once!"
Toran was shocked for he had never thought to hear those words from Wrethan and said, "Evacuate, but victory is within our grasp!"
Wrethan replied, "Toran you do not understand, we are detecting massive power surges, the Orks have activated their Warp engines, that ship is about to plunge into the Immaterium."
It was a stunning revelation and Persion butted in to say, "This far inside a stellar system, are they mad, the ship will be torn asunder!"
Toran declared, "We will seize the bridge and stop it."
Wrethan sadly replied, "You can't, the sequence has already begun, that ship is entering the Warp regardless. Remember the holy Codex, the blessed Primarch repeatedly warned against vainglorious last stands and bloody charges to no purpose. To press on now would serve nothing but hollow pride. Captain I know you don't want to leave but you yourself said a commander must make the hard calls, you have done all you can, now you must preserve your forces for the next battle."
Toran was torn, to retreat went against every instinct and all his training but the truth was undeniable, to press on now would be to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. He looked at his Marines and saw the determination and ambition in their eyes, they wanted the fight to continue, to claim the glory. Toran understood that urge all too well but he could not afford such luxuries, this was why a Captain could not be a friend to his men for he had to make the choice between the correct course of action, or the popular one.
Toran drew in a breath and said between gritted teeth, "Fall back to the boarding torpedoes, we are evacuating."
The squads gasped and Jediah said in shock, "Retreat, with victory within our grasp?!"
Toran rebuked him by saying, "The warboss is dead and Orks are beaten, I will not throw away the Emperor's warriors for hollow pride. Fall back by squads and collect our dead, I will not see them left for greenskin looters, that is an order."
The Space Marines were far too disciplined to protest outwardly but to another Transhuman their stiffness and the tightness of their grips spoke volumes. Toran knew he had lost much of the affection of his Marines but that was the price of his authority. To set a good example Toran was the first to turn his back upon the Orks and set off back to the boarding Torpedoes, his squads lifting their dead upon their shoulders and falling back. The Orks were beaten and that would have to be enough for one day.