Exitus Ultima Chapter 17
Crimson Vengeance soared over the arid plains, far from the sight of any city-state. From this altitude one could be tempted to think the planet barren and empty, an endless waste of salt and scorching sun, utterly void of life. Few ventured across those wastes, it being more efficient to fly straight to orbit. Those who did were either poor or had good reason to avoid scrutiny. The drug smugglers below were such an example.
Arvael peered into the Hololith and saw a convoy of linked machines, each riding on sixteen rolling tyres. Four stories high, and bound together by chains thicker than a man's torso and sagging rubber tubes. The convoy surely contained some common goods, grains, textiles, or frozen meats, but Arvael knew it also hid shipments of narcotics in its holds. He didn't care, the minutiae of common lives had no bearing on his mission, all that mattered was someone down there knew the Alpha Legion's secrets and the Librarian was going to extract those answers by any means necessary.
"No signs they're under attack," Sergeant Gotram commented.
"Everything seems to be in order," Arvael agreed, "A good sign."
"How do we want to do this?" Brother Vuruel asked from further back in the hold.
"Aerial insertion, drop straight onto their heads," Jediah declared.
"They'll see us coming," Vuruel argued.
"It's a thousand kilometres of flat plain in all directions, there's no way they won't see us coming."
Arvael nodded, "He's right, we have to assume everyone down there is in league with the Traitors. A full assault insertion is our best option, break any resistance and tear answers out of the survivors."
"And any innocents who get caught in the way?" Vuruel asked.
"There are no innocents," Jediah stated.
A soft cough from the rear drew the eye and Arvael saw the thin slip that was Carisa hanging in the ammo webbing on the walls. The metal frames of restraint cages were too broad and spartan for mortals, they would shatter the bones of anyone who tried. So the girl had to be strapped up like a box of bolt rounds. It was undignified, but she'd live, that was enough for Arvael's purposes.
"What should I do?" she yelled over the roaring of the engines.
"Stay here," Jediah snapped, "Try not to trip over a bolter and crack your head open."
"I'm not staying here on my own!"
"We go to battle, you won't last two minutes," Arvael stated, "We will call for the Thunderhawk when we're done."
Carisa fell silent as the deck tilted. At Jediah's order Crimson Vengeance pointed its nose at the ground, going into a steep dive. Arvael's weight shifted as blood was forced into his head and his pauldrons ground along the lines of his cage. The joygirl squawked as negative-G's pressed her into the wall but the Space Marines were untroubled. Compared to an orbital insertion under fire this was gentle.
A chime rang out and the Reivers pushed their cages up, moving to the hatches. Mag-locked boots clanged on the deck as they strode to the front of the gunship, fitting half-masks as they went. Arvael fitted his own helm as he took his place by a side hatch, and the crystal cables of the psychic hood autoengaged, waiting for the moment to leap clear. The pilots pulled up with a steep curve, causing everyone to sway on their mag-locked boots. They levelled out and Arvael knew they were right over the convoy, flying metres from the roofs of the vehicles. Opening the front hatch mid-flight would halt them dead, but the side doors slid back and the Space Marines poured out.
Arvael stepped onto nothing and fell a few metres, slamming onto a rocking roof with a clang of Ceramite on metal. The Reivers fell about him, knives and pistols drawn as they swept the perimeter. No threats arose to challenge them, only the howling wind as the convoy drove along and the patter of salt off armour, as clouds of grit were kicked off the plain.
Crimson Vengeance flew off as the Reivers spread out and Gotram called, "Landing zone secured, no resistance."
"That isn't right," Jediah hissed, "We should see some guards at least. Arvael, can you scan within?"
"I sense lifeforms but no alarm," the Libarian stated, "Let me see if I can probe their thoughts."
Arvael drew on his powers and found minds scant metres below their feet. Human minds, going about their business. Thoughts of dreary tasks and long nights of inebriation, lives of toil and sordid pleasures, bought with illicit coin. A few minds dwelled on the narcotics hidden in the holds and worried about the size of the bribes required to get them into the city-state once they got there. Criminal acts a plenty, but as to the intruders stomping about their roof, there was no thought at all. That wasn't right.
"They're blocking my psychic probes," Arvael snarled, "I can scan only surface memories, their true thoughts are concealed."
"They can do that?" Gotram blinked.
"With intense training," Arvael muttered, "Most certainly not something the Vettia should have access to."
"Alpha Legion tools," Jediah spat, "This whole convoy is filled with their minions, we need to get in there."
At Jediah's waved hand the Reivers set off, moving up the convoy. The swaying roof made Arvael's tread feel loose but he moved steadily, stepping over gaps between vehicles, seeing the salt flats whisking by below. One by one they stepped over the gap, but when Vuruel came to step over, the vehicles hit something. A stray rock or a bump in the land caused the vehicles to buck at just the wrong moment, making Vuruel miss his step and half-fall into the gap between vehicles and his misstep triggered something.
A harsh whine signalled the roof opening ahead and behind. Arvael whirled to see a pair of Gun-servitors rising on a pneumatic platform from each opening. Grey faces were swollen around targeting optics and their right arms were the ominous bulk of Heavy Bolters. There was no cover, no way to avoid being shot, the heavy weapons would rake the rooftop and the Reviers would be caught in a crossfire.
Bolt pistols came up but they would not be enough to stop gun-servitors from opening fire. Arvael reached for his powers but knew he couldn't stop them all, maybe one pair, but not both. Yet Jediah was moving. The Lieutenant grabbed the falling Vuruel by the back of the neck and heaved him up, holding him aloft like a shield. Arvael's eyes widened as he saw Jediah's intent, but there was no time to intervene. The gun-servitors opened fire with a hail of rounds, hammering fat bolts along the length of the convoy. Frantically he threw up a kine shield to stop those ahead, leaving rounds hanging in the air, but the rear ones had free shots and they hammered Vuruel mercilessly.
Blood and armour shards flew everywhere as Jediah held up the living shield, absorbing the onslaught, then hurled the bleeding corpse at the nearest servitor. The mindless man-machine had no programmed response save to keep firing and was entangled in the bleeding corpse, blocking its sight. A moment later Jediah was there, ramming his short sword into the face, destroying what was left of its brain. A sweep of his sword took care of the other, parting its head from its shoulders.
Arvael pushed his powers forward and wrapped the other Servitors in a cocoon of kine-force. The mindless cyborgs continued to fire, unable to comprehend the danger. Bolt rounds were blocked from leaving the barrel of their guns and detonated in the magazine, blasting the servitors apart with their own munitions. Scorched wreckage fell off the convoy, left in the dust as they drove on.
"They certainly know we're here now," Jediah hissed as the bangs faded.
Gotram gulped, "Vuruel, you killed him."
"Yes, and?"
"He was one of my squadmates, a Brother," Gotram accused.
"He was careless and sloppy, his blunder nearly killed us all. Vuruel was weak, shed no tears for that fool."
Arvael had made some hard choices in his time, disposed of kinsmen he judged too weak for the trails an Astartes must face, but even he was chilled by this callous dismissal. He knew Jediah had fought in the Storm Herald civil war, killed those who wore the starburst spiral, but they had been on the other side. He'd never grasped how ruthless Jediah was, how lacking in morals. Jediah's nature was murderous, and he wondered how Captain Toran had never seen what a cold snake his Brother was, what a black void of a soul stood next to him day and night.
There was no time to argue though for Jediah was already moving to the open roof, dropping into the dark below. The rest followed and Arvael fell into a cramped chamber, stacked along two sides by heavy bags of grain. The interior was hot and noisy, the rumble of Promethium engines rattling the frame of the vehicle. More pressing though was crowd of mortals surrounding them, startled by the sudden appearance of Astartes in their midst.
Pistols and knives were already in hand, but it made little difference. Jediah was already on the attack. The blue blur struck into the crowd, fractal-edged short sword flashing as he opened throats and tore out hearts. Blood fountained high, spraying the walls with vitae as he moved back, killing everything in his way. Arvael faced the other direction, towards the front, and summoned his power. A man came at him with a knife in hand, Arvael crushed his skull with a sweep of his morning-star. A pair fired autopistols that bounced rounds off his plate, he snapped their necks with a gesture, Telekinetic waves twisting heads about with a thought. Arvael pressed into the fray, killing foes left and right, moving through the crowd as they fell screaming in his wake.
Moments later the rest of the Reivers joined the fray, dropping through the open roof with knives stabbing and pistols blasting. Eight more Space Marines fell upon the score of surviving foes, ripping and tearing. They were no match for the Reivers, mortal bones were frail and strength lacking when tested against Transhumans. They died in droves, and in moments the fight was over.
"Weak fools," Jediah spat as he flicked blood off his sword.
"Easier than killing our own," Gotram replied with a glare.
"Let me scan them," Arvael uttered as he knelt among the dying foes, "No, even in death they shield their thoughts. The Alpha Legion's indoctrination is strong."
"Can't you punch through?" Jediah asked.
"With time," Arvael answered, "But these die too fast, I need someone yet alive."
Jediah moved to the door and said, "Then we move up and take some alive, hurry before they…" He was surprised when the door slid open before his touch. Revealed beyond was another crowd of mortals, ready for a fight, but with them was a towering monster. Arvael's eyes widened as he beheld swollen bulk, gigantic features and a jutting jaw. Ceramite plates of azure-hue clung to its bulk on straps but the iron-hard skin was protection enough. Anger wafted off it, a sense of strength and power beyond that a mortal should own, and its intent was made clear when it sprang to attack. With a savage roar the Glykonae fell upon the surprised Reivers and battle was truly joined.