Armorum Fidei Chapter 44

Down the ramp of Currens Ecclesia poured the faithful. They came in rags and tattered shoes, many scarred and burned by ritual displays of piety. Old hands who had spent a lifetime in service to the God-Emperor strode next to new converts, their brands fresh and weeping but their fervour unmatched in the ardour of the recent convert. They clutched their guns in unfamiliar grips but what they lacked in discipline they more than made up in zeal. Every soul amongst them desperate to meet the foe in battle, their burning faith craving release.

At their head Justini strode in her Paragon suit, freshly restored and consecrated. Her weapons were ready and the wounds made good, now the suit's Machine Spirit growled in eagerness to engage. At her flanks the wave of faithful advanced but at the fore were the Sisters of Battle. Each of them had seen miracles first hand and their faith reached a fever pitch as they sang hymns of glorification to the God-Emperor. Among them Praxi, Resita and Heleyna strode proudly, sure and certain that this day would see the Imperium resurgent. It was good their faith was inviolate, for the enemy set against them could not be counted.

Racing up the ramp came a swathe of inhuman foes. Xenos in all their multitudinous forms, and perversions. Claws and hooves and fangs were displayed, while those able to hold guns bore twisted blister-rifles. Races from across the galaxy brought together under the lash of the Psybrid. They were in their own way victims themselves, enslaved by the psychic yokes of the true enemy, but that bought no clemency. No matter the species aliens were the enemy of all good and true men, so taught the God-Emperor. Their mere existence was Heresy and the only answer was extermination.

"Flamers!" Justini cried as she lifted the left handle of her suit. The Paragon warsuit responded by hefting the Heavy Flamer and with a squeeze it shot forth burning Promethium. The front ranks added their fury and the nearest Xenos were bathed in incendiary gels, flailing wildly as their skin sloughed off and muscles burned off the bone. Blackened corpses fell off the ramp in swathes of ash, falling upon those clamouring to set foot on the slope.

"Bolters!" Justini cried and a hundred barrels were presented. A moment passed as the Sisters presented their volley, then they let fly. A solid wall of mass-reactives cleaved through the reeling Xenos, exploding torsos and ripping away limbs. More bodies dropped, scythed apart as the way to the ground was made clear. Justini added her own firepower, double-blinking over and over to spit bolts into the crowd. She barely had to aim, so tightly packed were the aliens and every shot was a kill. With furious volleys the Imperials cleared the way and Justini cried, "For Holy Terra, charge!"

Down the ramp the faithful ran, screaming righteous ire all the while. Justini was at the very front, charging as fast as the loping gait of her suit could carry her and she was the first to touch ground. She was met by a wave of gnashing foes, tearing at her mechanical legs with spiked knives and sharp claws. Justini's contempt grew ever greater, her loathing of the Xenos reaching new heights. She swept her axe about and cleaved a half-dozen Xenos to the ground, truncated parts of aliens falling under her feet.

"Imperator Excelsior!" she cried, devoting her kills to the God-Emperor, "Unto your glory I commit these deeds!" The aliens were not dismay and pressed on, trying to overwhelm her. They pressed their bulk against her legs, attempting to topple her over even as spines ricocheted off her armoured torso. Justini swayed as her unsteady balance was tested to the limit but her distress was brief, for she did not fight alone.

Down the ramp the rest of her army came, throwing themselves into the fray without hesitation or doubt. Bolters blazed, autoguns yammered, knives flashed and bayonets stabbed. A ragged wave of men and women, heroes all, met the Xenos face to face and cut them down. Justini saw her sisters among them. Praxi swept her Storm Bolter about, reducing foes to gore as her weapon juddered, great arcs of blood described with every volley, reaping a fearful tally. At her shoulder Resita marched calmly, picking off targets with lethal accuracy. Any Xenos that failed to die to Praxi's onslaught was felled by pinpoint shots, blowing out eyes and hearts with chilling disdain. Heleyna for her part was in her element, charging headlong into the fray, mace and shield smashing all she found. A knot of Galg dared to challenge her and she charged into them, knocking two over with her bulk and then driving her mace into guts and knees, toppling them over like a hewn tree.

With fire and fury the faithful cleared the edge of the ramp and spread out. Above them the ramp withdrew as Currens Ecclesia pressed on, marching still deeper into the horde. Its guns never ceased to fire and its artillery made a constant thunder, punching craters into the seething mass of foes pressing in on all sides. Justini fought in shadow as the Walking Church passed over, giving her attention wholly to the enemies trying to drown her. She met them with axe sweeps and bursts of bolter fire, holding the line as she sang praises to her God-Emperor.

The noise and the fury were deafening so it took her a moment to realise her vox was squawking in her ears. Even as she hewed left and right she called, "Justini here, repeat!"

Toran's voice came back, "We are at risk of bogging down, we must link up and form a speartip. Reaching that tower is all that matters!"

"I can't even see you!"

"Head between the Train-cities, where the fighting is thickest you shall find us!"

Justini drew in a breath and called, "Follow me!" She turned left and forced a path through the milling foes, cleaving a road for her followers to tread. Her axe described arcs of ruin as she strode on, culling anything and everything that dared to stand against her. In her wake she heard screaming, the faithful being killed by unworthy hands and she knew her follower's numbers were diminishing but she could spare no time to mourn, the fight was all.

Against overwhelming odds the faithful forged a path but then she was confronted by a sterner foe. From the crowds stepped three bulkier foes, Borlac, the blubbery aliens setting themselves in her path. They nearly equalled her in height and were far broader than her warsuit, swathed in thick skin and fat, with beady eyes that betrayed no sign of intelligence. The Psybrids had reduced them to living battering rams, but unfortunately very effective ones. Justini lifted her Heavy Flamer but before she could target them they charged. Her head snapped forward and back as immense weight slammed into her, rocking her Paragon Suit like a sapling in a storm. For a heart-stopping moment she thought she would topple over, but the Machine Spirit was cunning and angled the boots, so the feet carved grooves into the dirt as it gave ground.

Justini snarled as she tried to swing her axe but the Borlac grappled her tightly and the arc of the mechanical arm was too great to bring the weapon to bear. She lowered her helm as far as it could go but the angle was too steep for her bolters. A Borlac drew back a fist and slammed it into her chest, hard enough to crack Ceramite and Justini's ribs ached with vibration. Had that been conventional armour her chest would have been stoved in. Another blow rocked her and another and Justini knew her protection was on the verge of failing. Their strength was phenomenal, their blubber thick and the stench of their greasy hides penetrated her respirator, making her gag. Death was moments away and yet she was not afraid, the God-Emperor was with her, this she knew and no Xenos scum would lay her low so long as He smiled upon her.

A Borlac reared back, mouth yawning wide to reveal blunted teeth. Justini thought it intended to eat her alive but her hands were already moving. Knowing it was too close for the mechanical arms of her warsuit she let go the handles and lashed out with her fist. Power armoured digits struck for the head, intending to break its jaw. As it turned out her aim was off, unable to see her hands with the high gorget of the suit her fist struck low and caught the Borlac in the neck, the one spot not swathed in layers of blubber, crushing its windpipe utterly.

The Borlac reared back, clutching its neck as it fought to breathe. Eyes flickered as a hint of intelligence broke through Psybrid mind control but it was too late, death was coming and nothing could prevent that. It collapsed to the ground and went motionless, but that still left two others grappling with her. Justini was rocked wildly with every blow and could not reach them, leaving her vulnerable to a final blow.

One Borlac drew back for a finishing blow but as it did so her Sisters intervened. From behind Praxi emerged from the fray, Storm Bolter blazing. Bolts slammed into the back of one Borlac, blowing craters into its flesh. The alien barely seemed to notice but one stray bolt caught the back of a knee and blew through, shattering the joint to leave it sprawling in the dirt. From nowhere Heleyna emerged, mace swinging high to land upon its skull and explode brains across the churned mud. The other Borlac spun about and roared as it turned on these new foes, but a pinpoint shot from Resita went through its mouth, blowing the back of its skull out and leaving the head hanging by a tatter of flesh.

Justini gasped as her lungs throbbed. She felt like her insides had been rearranged by repeated impacts but pain was nothing compared to the sweet joy of living through incalculable danger. She nodded wearily and breathed, "The God-Emperor steers your hands this day my Sisters."

"For his glory," Resita declared.

Justini wanted to lie down for an hour or two but wheezed, "We're not done yet, come on there's more to be done!"

She grabbed the loose handles and resumed her march, wading into the pressing throng with unbreakable determination. At every step fresh foes presented themselves but she met them with axe, flame and bolt, clearing a path. In her wake the faithful followed, many of them falling to shot and claw but they would not be turned from their path. The goal was in sight and nothing would stop them.

Justini lost all sense of time as the rush of combat took her but soon she saw the crowds part and a flash of blue armour appeared. Storm Heralds, battling tooth and nail under the shadow of the Train-cities' guns. Bolters punched into alien flesh, chainswords reaped limbs and power weapons slashed everything to shreds as the Space Marines met the Xenos horror with unbreakable determination. They were pressing forward in lines of disciplined fury, a stark testament to the ragged fervour of the faithful. Tanks grumbled along in their wake, many of them firing over the Astartes' heads, but Justini was shocked to note many of them had fallen silent, expending all ammo already. As hard as it was to fathom her force had only been fighting the dregs, the true heart of the battle lay here.

She spied Toran's battered form in the midst of the fray, hacking and stabbing with a magnificent longsword. His armour was chipped and gouged and his red cloak nothing but a wisp of torn fabric but in the midst of calamity he was undaunted. He met every charge with mighty swings of his sword and in his footsteps were left sundered foes, dying unmourned as he led his Marines on. Justini angled to meet him, bathing a swathe of enemies in promethium and driving into the midst of the flailing Xenos. Her axe swept thrice and suddenly she was at Toran's side.

The Captain didn't relent in his killing as he called, "We are killing them as they come but their numbers do not diminish!"

"Truly we are blessed!" Justini cried, "He lays a banquet of enemies for us to enjoy."

"But only their slaves," Toran barked, "Where are the Psybrid themselves?!"

As if in response the numbers set against them surged, hundreds of Xenos pressing in from ahead. A tidal wave of grappling hands and sharp claws trying to wash over them. The Space Marines and faithful stood shoulder to shoulder as they met the rush, blasting and hacking away for all they were worth. From on high the Train-cities rained down death, every emplacement blazing away. It was not enough, the Xenos forced their way through torrents of firepower to reach the line and then the killing began in earnest. Men fell to vicious claws, Sisters were crushed and even Space Marines went down with spikes rammed through eyesockets.

Justini lashed about wildly as she cried, "We're being overrun!"

"Fight on!" Toran barked, "We must reach the tower."

"We're bogged down, we can't move."

Suddenly Praxi cut in, "Someone is, look!"

Justini's head rose and she saw Currens Ecclesia breaking off, marching onwards despite the ocean of aliens washing over its feet. They climbed its legs, being crushed in pistons and gears, but rising all the while. Torrents of gunfire swept the flanks, knocking them clear but more rose every time, threatening to swarm over the lintel and rush the defenders. Yet despite that the walking Church strode on, closing on the dark tower with inexorable inertia.

"Furion!" Toran called, "Where are you going?!"

"He's intending to finish the mission," Justini growled, "Currens Ecclesia will not stop until that monstrosity comes crashing down."

"They won't get that far," Praxi spat.

Indeed over Currens Ecclesia's tower flashes of light heralded portals opening, dropping Psybrid forces directly onto its roof. They fell like rain, many of them breaking upon the spires and gables but more landed safely, deploying an army straight onto its spine. The Walking Church was beset by foes, from above and below and Justini could not see how they could possibly survive long enough to reach the tower. Yet she had problems of her own to deal with.

The horde washing over them paused for a moment then parted, revealing gangly Xenos in fleshy armour. A score of them, bearing lashes and spiked staves and recurved blades. Psybrids, showing themselves at last, coming to finish this fight once and for all. They faced the humans with evil hisses of challenge, then lowered their heads and charged. Justini saw them coming and lifted her axe to the heavens as she cried, "The ordained hour is upon us and we know that He is with us. In his name, charge!"