CHAPTER THREE

When the first ship deaths were reported, they turned from a stream to a cascade. Lance-beams and macro cannons opened fire, splitting the black-hulled craft of the city-fleets. A frigate died the opening volley, it had been making for the main body of the Expeditionary Fleet, a fireship. Its deadly payload had become a handicap in place of advantage.
Holtec watched it all from the command centre, noting the number of ships dwindling from the dozens to the tens. He was sacrificing the one unifying force the city-masters possessed, all for a matter of moments. It was worth every life lost.
The command centre was deadly silent, despite the crowds of officers, city-priests and scribes that occupied it. A squad of his household guard stood in the alcoves of the chamber, their solid-jaw features locked like death.
'They are focusing on Torghun,' he observed, directing the statement at no one in particular.
'Of course they are,' said his master-at-arms. 'You were right - they know an easy target when it presents itself. Then again, it takes little skill to do so.'
'They will begin a bombing run soon,' my lord,' said another attendant.
The atmosphere screamed as clouds were torn and split. River banks followed soon after. Bulwarks ruptured, the outer city walls crumbled.
'Get to the bunker, my lord.' The master-at-arms said. It was not a request. And Holtec was in no state to resist.

The Blood Angels came down on Hyhad. Tens of dozens of drop-craft at a time burned through the atmosphere. They were a hail of iron, the sky falling upon the land in one storm after the other.
The Thunderhawk Litany of Sanguinius left the Consort and plunged towards the burning city. Now that he finally saw it with his own eyes, the destruction of what must have been a beautiful city saddened Solun greatly. Seated opposite him in the troop compartment, accompanied by the nine warriors in his squad, the Techmarine, Skaran said, 'The city is collapsing. It was never intended to stand against anything like this.'
'Truly brother,' Solun replied, dragging his chainsword from his hip. 'Your an expert in the emphyric and the rational.'
The Techmarine laughed, it was a harsh sound, but a welcome one. 'It is an insult to the purity of the machine.'
'What, dragging it out?'
'No, wasting it on such an enemy. I would see them yield, not butchered.'
'Where we so fortunate.'
'Brother-Seregant, Techmarine Skaran. We have arrived at ut destination. Dropping ramp now.' The pilot of the craft said, voice cutting out as the gunship ramp slammed down.
The hollowed thumb was followed by the flat-bang of bolt-round detonations.

The drop pod's retro-thrusters fired. The grav-harness strained around Castern's broad-shoulders with the sudden deceleration. He grinned fervently, this was what he lived for. He anticipated the bone-rattling impact, something which would turn a mortal to pulp. It came, and the pod's petal-flow body bloomed as the doors slammed down. Castern stormed out of the pod with the rest of the squad, behind his sergeant, joining the muster of their battlegroup.
Overhead, the contrails of drop pods and lifters clawed the sky, scarring it with white lacerations. East and south of where Castern stoid, the city trembled with the landings and the gathering forces of the Blood Angels. There were far fewer craft coming down in the north and west. The brothers of Castern's squad were in the vanguard. The enemy where near, it would not be a long journey to reach them.
Rhinos rumbled forwards over broken masonry and towards the battlegroup. Smokestacks humming contently. Castern followed Sergeant Ralor into the Baalfora Resplendent. The armour arriving with a continuous rumble.
Next to Castern, Mendrion muttered, 'More sitting. No fighting.' His disapproval was shared. The warriors under Ralor were still young, testing themselves.
'There will be plenty of fighting later,' Ralor said, turning to the young-blood. 'But first we have to reach the enemy.'
'Of course, Sergeant Ralor. Consider me happy to this short wait.'
'So noted,' he turned to face the driver. 'Siten, the order is given. Forwards.'

The armoured column roared across the broken city, painting the wide streets red with their bodies. Ralor raised the copula to look out over the city streets, taking in the destruction. The vehicles in red-and-gold filled the air around him with choking clouds of exhaust. The air of Hyhed was cold, now warm with the flames of its destruction.
At the head of the column, to Ralor's left, the Spartan Sanguine Heart increased its speed to lead the charge. It was the Warden's command vehicle, and Gorn rode in a similar manner to the sergeant, his power maul aimed forwards. Ralor's heart swelled as he watched the Warden, starting to list great deeds of the Legion.
The Warden raised his hand, then lowered it.
Charge.

Solun's united clambered over the parapets of the city-masters mansion, using the small recesses in the wall and the gear they had requisitioned from the Reconnaissance Squads.
The plan was going well, the mansions most competent defenders had been drawn up into the kill-line that the armoured column under Gorn had targeted. Solun and his squadmates accompanied by Skaran, had made their way through the bombed-out northern limits, and successfully avoided any of the city defenders barricades and combat-patrols. Though the threat of the still present defenders was still there.
Six mortals against eleven Blood Angels. The city-master's household guard all died barely aware of what killed them. A simple butt-bash from Solun's boltgun snapped the neck of a guard with a wet crack.
The Blood Angels victims had barely hit the cold stone of the parapet before they broke into a run for the command centre. A transmitter spike protruded from an old ferrocrete building, the main communication network no doubt.
Solun was first into the command centre complex. A sterile iron column ended in a set of blast doors, sealed prior the Blood Angels arrival. An engineer in orange overalls came out of a side door, he was casually bisected by Skaran as he approached the door.
'Faster this way,' the Techmarine said, priming a mag-locking elta charge as he went. He paused as he examined the door. 'Structural weakness upper left, and lower right. Faulty craftsmanship.'
The Techmarine clamped the melta charge to the upper left quarter and stepped to the side.
'Breaching,' he said, and triggered the detonator device built into his vambrace. The melta blast, channelled directly into the heavy door, bored a hole in the armoured plating. The whole frame shuddered, and the upper left was turned to molten slag.
'Kratoz,' Solun said, the largest member of his squad slammed shoulder-first into the blast door. Once, twice, thrice. With the door already damaged, it took little to make it slam into the marble floor beyond.
Beyond them, from behind communications and city maps, engineers, communication and military officers stared wide-eyed at the red giants.
'Officers of the Hyhad military, we ask only for your immediate surrender. Yield now and you and your people shall go unharmed. We want only city-'
The bark of a autogun cut into Solun's words. The sergeant was peppered by a hail of light-arms weapon-fire. A dozen guards and officers were firing at him and his brothers, shots going wide with panic. 'Kill those you have to,' he said, chainsword revving.
Many of those present hid behind their system screens. Filed-outposts throughout the city would hear the killing and sobbing, it made Solun feel discussed, like he was a mad-man of the Night Lords.
The last of the resistance died down, his defiant roar cut of by Kratoz.
'Skaran, make sure everything is as it should be.' Solun ordered him. 'You there,' he pointed to an officer. 'Where does you city-master hide himself?'
'Bunker, just below this chamber. Please don't kill me.'
Solun nodded. 'I have no intention to mirder you. Ulgi, Ekarun, go and secure the city-master.' The named legionaries departed.
The Techmarine removed his helm, letting his calm voice fills the chamber. 'Everything is as it needs to be, now we need only Holtec.'

The cities defenders were suicidal, or so Castern had concluded. A landcar, with the city-emblem emblazoned on its bonnet, raced up from the main boulevard into the Regal Square, tyres squealing. Its occupants seeming to only notice the red giants as they decelerated, it turned about far faster than its small form would suggest.
Two more cars followed it not long after, each one strapped with explosive devices. The first detonated short of the Rhino, but took brothers Arrian and Deon with it. The second died as fast as it appeared.
The brothers of Squad Ralor had been assigned guard duty of the Square, they were to prevent a counter-attack from any troops left alive. Evidently, there were more of them than anticipated
The Sergeant, Castern and Mendrion occupied the steps of a cathedral of marble, whilst the other five brothers were spread across the Square, the Rhino driver, Siten, manned the storm bolter.
'Sergeant Ralor,' the voice of Warden Gorn crackled over the vox-link. 'We are seeing a large number of enemy bodies moving on your position. I am re-tasking Litany of Sanguinius to strafing runs of the enemy.'
Ralor acknowledged with a blink-click.
'The enemy are upon us, brother's. It is time to do our duty. For Sanguinius and the Emperor!'

Holtec was dragged from his bunker, covered in the blood of his household guard. It did not take long for him to arrive in the command centre of his forces. He was forced to his knees by one of the red brutes. He stifled a cry at the pain.
One of the giants went unhelmed. An auburn haired barbarian, his armour decorated in riches the like Holtec had never seen before. Even now, in fear for his life, he felt a pang of jealousy.
'You were wrong,' the barbarian said. 'You believed that Torghun was the easier target. You were wrong.' It was a fact. Or that was how the barbarian was presenting it.
'You may yet survive this,' he continued. 'All I ask is for your surrender, then you and your citizens shall he welcomed into the fold of humanity's restoration.'
Holtec nodded.
'Skaran, ready the communication systems. City-master Holtec has a few words to say.'

'All Blood Angels, fire at will.'
The sergeant issued the order over the squad vox-net to those facing down the horde of mortal soldiers facing down the defenders of the Regal Square. The open space resounded with the thunderclap of massed bolter fire as his warriors opened fire. The leading edge of the horde, - for that was the best description of the press of bodies - flooding the Square, shuddered as they were cut to ribbons.
Ralor scanned the initial salvo, auto-senses logging estimated damage and casualty ratios. The horde had been checked, but the pause would not last. Numbers were still pouring in from the surrounding streets, choking the passages with bodies. Litany of Sanguinius had also nosed down to strafe the long, congested roads, but it's bolters and battle cannons had soon dried up, and the amount of fire the troopers brought to bare was enough to send the Thunderhawk running.
The enemy charge was truly suicicial. Many would die, but they knew one thing for certain. They could kill these red giants, a smaller measure of revenge, if nothing else.
'Ready for the next wave,' Ralor said, changing magazine. 'I doubt it will end as easily.'

Raphaen had left Fenarix to watch over Leptkul. The last of the resistance had been dying down as the captain had boarded Red Sorrow. With him came the survivors of Hykrion's squad and the Dreadnought Vorn. Agermen was still clutching his blade tightly.
'Brother-Captain,' came Gorn's harsh voice. 'I see you have finished the pacification of Leptkul.'
'Indeed we have, Gorn. I also see that Holtec has been taken alive. But I doubt this is a social call between old friends.'
'Indeed. Currently the enemy are threatening to break through out rear-guard. I am requesting you move into aid Squad Ralor.'
Raphaen saw the coordinates of the squad appear on his map of the city. 'Very well, brother. I shall leave the heavy lifting to you then. But I would like for their to be as few casualties taken as possible.'
He spoke now to the pilot and brothers in the hold. 'We go to the Regal Square, out friend Ralor has gotten himself into a spot of bother.'

The fighting in Regal Square was no longed one-sided. Troops had occupied rooftops and balconies on the flanking sides of the Blood Angels. Small-arms fire gave way to flechette-rounds, followed by the hard thumps of primitive autocannons. The fire was inaccurate chewing up the stone around the Angels, but the sheer volley of it had already taken legionary Thomaticus. Ralor knew that he was unable to divert sufficient firepower to the rooftop attackers, for fear of the horde pushing closer.
Armour was moving up now, landcars with autocannons bolted to them, to armoured carriers sporting flamers. They raced down the narrow streets towards the Angels, and were met by a hunter-missile from the Rhino. But the burning wreck provided more cover than a roadblock. In less than twenty minutes, fire was being poured into Ralor's squad, as their numbers began to wither. Ralor called a retreat into the cathedral. Trusting that Siten could close the Resplendent against the horde of soldiers. He blink-clicked a message to Gorn, informing him to the current situation.
Ralor barred the steps at the doors with his brothers - Castern and Mendrion. The mortals weapons clattered in a heavy tattoo calling for the Angels deaths. The legionaries met them with chainsword and bolt pistol. Blood ran in a thick river down the cathedral steps, the chainblades rending everything they touched.
'Into the cathedral,' Ralor commanded. He took a step back, still killing the mortals. Castern fired at point-blank range to let the sergeant enter without the mortals forcing themselves inside.
Mendrion, for all his overconfidence and boastfulness, was a giant and skilled warrior. He was as tall and broad as a warrior in Tartaros-pattern Terminator Armour. As Ralor stepped into the cathedral, it was Mendrion that pushed the giant locking bolts into place, barring entry for now.
'Gorn,' Ralor voxed. 'Gorn!'
'I hear you sergeant,' the Warden replied. 'Reinforcement is on its way. What is your current status.'
'Five of us, including Siten, are still alive. If only just. Brother Vulan is missing an arm, he took an autocannon round to the chest. His pharmaceutica is nearly empty.' He said, placing some of his own vials into the young warriors own. 'We are low on ammunition. Currently, we have barricaded the doors to the cathedral. Though I don't see them lasting much longer.' He finished, inclining for Castern to move Vulan towards the back of the cathedral.
'Understood, Ralor. Tell me, is the roof glass, and if so how large.'
Ralor looked up. 'Confirmed. Its big enough to get two Mastodons in line.'
'Good. Now hold out for as long as possible, the call for surrender has just gone out. With fortune, your assailants will listen to reason.'
'Affirmative, I shall hold out as long as possible. For Sanguinius and the Emperor.'
Castern took the right flank, Mendrion the left, that left the centre of the cathedral to Ralor. 'We do not leave this place unless we have a carpet of bodies.' Ralor said, receiving a snort from Mendrion.
The great doors came crashing down, and an army flooded the cathedral with solid-round ammunitions. As one, the three Blood Angels returned fire.

Mendrion had been rushed, a dozen mortals had clambered over him, slowing his movements with the press of their bodies. They stabbed at him with fixed bayonets. They stabbed at his fibre bundles and soft-seals. Finally one pressed a flechette-rifle to his throat and fired. He was skewered on it like a boar. Castern killed them with his last frag grenade.
He had failed.
That was when the sound of the glass roof shattering filled the cathedral.
Reinforcements had arrived.
Vorn's arrival had shattered the glass roof. The Contemptor himself landed in the centre of the enemy body, turning them to a gory pulp. Yet more were wounded by the lacerations of the glass fragments, eyes, calves, joints, all cut deep.
Vorn took two steps towards the great doors, great metal feet cracking the floor. He swivelled his body as he went, examining the mortals fear as he went. The denders surge had been checked by the arrival of the ancient.
Vorn raised his might lascannon, and fired.
More Blood Angels appeared from the roof, Assault Marines of Squad Hykrion. With newfound vigour, Ralor and Castern lept into action.
'Lad,' Vorn said, turning his body to Ralor. 'Stand aside for the moment, you glory dog. Get you and your charges to the Sorrow. Captain Raphaen would see you three live this through.'
With a nod, the sergeant and younger warrior went to collect Vulan.
'Look at the log,' Castern said. 'The surrender signal went out earlier. Damned whoresons.'
Ralor nodded. 'Don't let anger get you down yet. Not with Vulan like this.'

Wow, so that is the biggest chapter I have written in either of my two stories. I mean wow, that was a real challenge. Especially with what I wanted to do with it, couldn't just go all drop pod assault like last time. I really think this will be my new goal for this story. Till next time, please enjoy and review if willing.