Author's Note:
Did you think I'd forgotten about this fanfic? Hell no, just had a lot of work to do. I'll try and complete the third chapter as soon as possible. Enjoy.
The smell of tobacco and sweat filled out the small room as the score of officers and planetary officials attempted to squeeze inside. Being the only bunker not damaged by the enemy's sneak attacks and pin-point strikes, it would have to make do as the War Room for Governor Petro Poete. He snorted upon smelling the foul mixes of various stenches in the air, but made no complaint. The governor was once an officer of the Imperial Guard and before that a mere grunt. Even now he wore the carapace torso of his old Storm Trooper armour, his years of working out and keeping fit even while in office now working in his advantage. His career had lasted almost forty years, a respectable length that was proudly talked about by the people who served him, usually in tandem while complimenting him on his various battle-scars and war wounds.
When the rest of the officers finally gathered inside the War Room, the governor stood and stared at each man in the room, etching their appearance into his memory. Many of them were new faces having replaced those men who had died in the war against the Eldar and who were likely to die before the governor could learn their names. Each of these men saw the governor' s grimace as he surveyed the room, each of them understanding what it meant. A member of the Adeptus Astartes Chapter known as the Black Templars walked last into the room, his sheer bulk and height filling out an entire corner of the crowded chamber.
"Sergeant Faiqus, I am pleased you could join us. How goes the testing of the young men from the western plains?" Poete grunted, pulling up a screen of quickly-flashing data on his datapad. For almost a standard Terran year the Space Marine had been stationed on the planet, thoroughly combing the planet for anyone strong enough to have the honour of being inducted into the Chapter. Being a planet with a gravity field slightly higher then Terra's, the population tended to be tougher and more physically powerful then regular human stock. Even though they were tougher then the average human, from the millions of people put through the insanely dangerous proving arenas, it was likely only a handful would be accepted and brought into the Chapter.
"Dorn's praise be upon you, Lord Poete. I have found two such hardy men who I shall be honoured to train as Astartes but otherwise the rest are either dead or useless to me." Faiqus' voice was inhumanely deep, a low rumble of thunder against the shrill human squeals.
"Excellent, your brethren would not risk these recruits falling to the blades of the xenos, would they? When does the Crusade Fleet reach us?"
"Captain Brand sends his regards; the fleet is currently engaged the pirates coming out of the Maelstrom. They won't be arriving until my mission is complete."
"No!" General Ulren slammed a fist onto the table. A tall, thickly-set man with a quivering moustache, Ulren had only become General due to his predecessor's death at the front-lines. Completely unsuited to the job as he was, no one was willing to take his place. "We can't face these creatures without back-up! We've had far too many casualties; this war of attrition will end us all!"
"Don't be so foolish, Ulren," admonished the governor. "Eldar do not wage war as we do. They raid, strike and conduct hit-and-run attacks. It is the Gate that causes them to fight us; their species relies on these gates and the ancient technology that binds them together."
"So we destroy the Gate then? That'll win us the war?" One of the junior officers sitting opposite the governor asked meekly, the young man looking barely old enough to shave. A few of his fellows nodded their heads, agreeing with him.
"No, we need to rout their forces first and only then destroy the Gate. If we do not do this in the right order, it will potentially leave many Eldar stranded on the planet. They will scatter and hunt us like wolves in our own forests."
"We must purge them," Faiqus stated simply. "They are xenos and cannot be allowed to live. We should leave them all dead and their Gate in ruins."
Governor Poete had experienced the nature of the Astartes once before meeting Faiqus. Back in his soldiering days, he had fought an Ork invasion of Valhalla. The green-skins had come in force, leaded by the mighty Warboss Snogrut. War gutted large sections of the planet, reducing many cities to rubble and flame but still the defenders fought, each day taking one more step backwards. The Blood Angels Chapter had sent a detachment of one-hundred Astartes to pacify the Ork threat and they had succeeded spectacularly. The Astartes had annihilated the Orks for being xenos and a threat to the Imperium but at least they did not let their hatred cloud their mind and restrict their tactical ability, like the Templar did.
"Sergeant, we cannot spare the men do destroy so many of the Eldar! We barely have enough to repel them and you talk of a direct assault? I am in charge of this planet and I owe a protection to the people of Quisto'Rol; I will not squander our resources on such a plan."
Faiqus didn't say anything, staring at the governor through his helmet's green lens. Patting the sword at his side, the Templar beat his fist against his chest. "Then I swear to you, in the name of Dorn and his father the Emperor I shall eradicate this threat myself! I shall requisition no men nor armour, only asking my own Chapter's prospects whether they will fight alongside me."
His pledge made, Sergeant Faiqus left the War Room to ready himself. Only once his giant frame had ducked and exited through the door did General Ulren let out an audible sigh and turned his sad gaze onto the governor. "So what now what do we do?"
"You sound like you've got no idea, Ulren. Several key objectives must be fulfilled in order for this war to end and several of these are now in progress. A Basilisk was on its way to Zal-Omega, where it was to be led to the hill at reference point HY-Forty-Seven." Poete keyed a few buttons on the wall behind him. Part of the wall dropped down, revealing a large data-screen with a map that detailed the surroundings of the Gate. "As we've learnt, the Gate's systems corrupt our long-range targeting so our efforts to bombard it have always failed but we're hoping that a direct line-of-sight will enable the Basilisk's crew to fire accurately enough. The Second Regiment's Light Division were supposed to be the ones to escort the Basilisk to its destination but the Basilisk was lost somewhere in the forest. Major Anderson and his men went out in search of it at oh-eight-hundred hours. This Basilisk is our key; it will destroy the Gate when the time is right.
Secondly, as I said earlier the xenos must be routed through the Gate. I was originally going to call this meeting so that we may plan exactly how we would do this but Sergeant Faiqus has already solved this problem for us. He will launch his attack straight at the enemy's heart, providing enough of a distraction for us to move our men closer to the Gate. An Armoured Company accompanied by as many sentinels as we can must should move to support the Templar once battle has commenced and not a second earlier. The Eldar lying in ambush points should all be recalled back to defend the Gate, leaving the forest safe for our forces to move through.
Lastly, measures must be taken to ensure that the Eldar will all be routed or destroyed and not scattered in the forests. Once the Gate is destroyed our orbital platforms will be able to fire again, so we must ready them to fire on the forest when the time is right. We will level the mountains and burn the forest and that will be the end."
The junior officers looked to one another, worry in their eyes. One of them stood up, saluting the governor smartly. "My lord, what of the Armoured Company, the Second's Light Division and Lord Faiqus? They will all be caught within the explosion if we fire at the moment of victory."
Lord-Commissar Felus stood up from the table and walked around each of the officers, his intimidating stalk immediately laying a shroud of silence upon the junior officers. Quiet until this point of the discussion, the Lord-Commissar was the governor's most trusted advisor. Older then Poete himself, Felus had seen untold horrors stretched across a hundred battlefields, losing a piece of his humanity in each war. More machine then man, the Lord-Commissar boasted a wide array of bionic implants and mechanical prosthetics. It was his mechanical hand that now gripped the shoulder of the junior officer that spoke out.
"Boy, what's your name?" The Lord-Commissar spoke slowly but not because of any intention to; his throat had been sliced open by a Necron's warscythe years before and had left his voice slow and rasping.
"Malcax, sir. Captain Malcax Benjahman."
"Malcax. It's a good name. Named after one of Quisto'Rol's most beloved leaders, you must be proud to have such a honourable name." The Lord-Commissar offered his mechanical hand in the old Terran-style, which Captain Benjahman stood up and shook awkwardly. "Now, Malcax, you respect your superiors, don't you?"
Benjahman nodded dumbly, completely in awe of the war hero standing before him. "Of course I do sir, utmost respect."
"Good. Sit down and don't make me execute you for heresy, only the brave may be named after Lord Malcax the Absolute. The Emperor protects and Lord Poete is the voice of the Emperor, so do not question him. The men and women who engage the enemy would gladly sacrifice their lives for their friends and family, so all we are doing is allowing them to do so."
Benjahman's mouth gaped for a moment but he shook his head, refusing to be cowed. "Sir, can't we just destroy the Gate with the Basilisk then destroy them with orbital bombardment? We wouldn't have to worry about any survivors if we proceed that way."
The Lord-Commissar glared at the young captain with his single remaining eye and tapped the barrel of his gun with his hand. Poete shook his head, standing up and gesturing his old friend back to his seat before turning to Captain Benjahman. "Impossible. That Basilisk has one of the last Earthshaker cannons on the entire planet and we cannot afford to lose it; the ground assault will distract the enemy so they cannot strike at the Basilisk the moment it enters the fray. You need to understand the significance of this one cannon, son. Normally it would be absolutely absurd to rely on something as simple as a single Basilisk but the enemy won't be able to fire it's payload out of the sky as they have with our orbital strikes. If there are no other complaints then this meeting is adjourned; my aide, Sergeant Vaycourt will brief you all on your individual assignments. Gentlemen."
Governor Poete walked up the stairs to the surface floor, his ochre cape collecting dust off the walls behind him while Lord-Commissar Felus followed. Pushing open the door to the administration building that they had occupied once the original HQ had been struck by Warp Spiders, Poete ran a hand through the little hair that remained on his head.
"The Emperor knows what the Black Templars are going to do once they find out we allowed Faiqus to become a distraction and a sacrifice."
The pair stood at a window that looked across the courtyard of the tower. Faiqus had not yet left and was loading his personal Rhino APC with supplies before heading out to the Cathedral of the Champion just outside the city of Taluun. The Cathedral was one of the world's oldest at close to three-thousand years old and had immediately caught the attention of Faiqus who then requisitioned it as a training base.
"We didn't 'allow' him, Petro. He is of a stubborn, ferocious stock of Astartes. As long as he dies an honourable death then the Chapter will be pleased. He will do his duty by his primarch and the Emperor; what more can an Astartes ask for? No, I am far more interested in Anderson and his mission. What was that you said of the Basilisk? That it would be so absurd to rely on something so simple? We're to do so twice it seems; a Basilisk and a single company of guardsmen are to herald peace to our planet. Does Anderson know?"
"Perhaps. I did not tell him the full plan over vox, who knows if the Eldar are listening in. He knows his orders and the importance of the Basilisk but that is all. He's a smart man so he may have figured out about the orbital strike but then again, what's he going to do about it? He knows that if he doesn't get that Basilisk up there then we'll end up taking unacceptable losses so he'll do his job."
"Is there a Commissar attached to the company?"
The old governor turned to his friend. The Commissar-General's face was as grim as ever, but there was a strange look in his eyes. "You can't be serious, Felus! I'm not going to let you go out there just to die, I need your aid; the men look up to you, they want to please you! You're indispensable; they call you 'the Indestructible."
Felus clasped Petro's wrist with his own. "It''s been a good run, my friend. Once this war is over you'll have new heroes; men and women young enough to serve you for decades to come. I am old and no matter how many bionics I use or serums I have prescribed I can still feel every one of my one-hundred-and-forty years. It is time for this old body to die, but at least I can do my duty this one last time. I'll find Anderson and his boys and make sure they do their duty. May the Emperor watch over you, old friend."
"And may He protect and preserve you, Lord-Commissar Anton Felus."
"Sarge, why do they call them Hellguns?"
"Shut the hell up and watch your points, boy."
"But Sarge, it's a good one."
Sergeant Kellok butted the younger man in the side with the end of his rifle, knocking him away. The rest of the men tittered, knowing full well that the sergeant had been monitoring their immediate surroundings using his auspex scanner so they had nothing to fear. Regardless of who they were and what company and regiment they belonged to, no Imperial Guardsman would ever want to be out in the forest while there were Eldar present in that same forest. They'd been marching for close to two hours now into the forest, hunting for the remains of Echo Company and the lost Basilisk artillery battery with it's Earthshaker Canon and after clearing away large nests of stingerbees and a pack of felhounds, the men were getting restless. They were becoming more talkative and while the sergeant didn't mind if the men's footsteps were silent or not, he did mind if they talked their mouths off. The Major's sentinels were barely a minute away, stomping through the forest ahead of them; clearing away large logs in their path and cutting away at the shrubbery to speed their progress and Anderson would not appreciate some smart-arse in the company betraying their position away so stupidly.
It was almost dusk and the men were jumping at every shadow; a conditioned response after one has been fighting the treacherous Eldar for so long. Kellok knew they wouldn't stop for the night as the men would be too relaxed so instead they would press on, facing the Eldar with their light-enhancer goggles on.
"Auspex scans have located something, Major," the mechanical voice of Private Giller broadcast through the vox headset that Kellok wore. "Looks like the xenos but they keep flashing out."
"Keep track of the blips, they could be them. Has your sentinel been serviced lately, Giller?" Anderson barked back. The Major was at the front of the formation, very typical of him. Any other officer would have gone on foot or deployed in a Chimera armoured carrier with their aids and medic but Anderson wasn't any other officer. He ploughed on ahead in his own sentinel, fighting away the xenos with his own heavy bolter; each shot blowing away a warrior in a storm of blood and rage. From amongst the entire company, the Major was the one with the highest kill count so far; both his hellgun and sentinel covered with skull markings.
"Affirmative sir, just got the auspex and targeting array fixed up yesterday."
"I was kidding, Giller. I swear that xenos took out some of your brain matter with that shot. Shut up and keep driving. Lohan, Darik and Erik, you all still with us?"
"Still kicking, sir," came Corporal Lohan's reply.
"The Emperor be praised," Darik's answer was as unenthusiastic as one can sound.
"Standing by," signalled Erik.
"Lohan, Giller, mark the blips and see if you can flank them. They're probably just some Blinkers trying to get the drop on us so just go and 'discourage' them."
Kellok signalled to the men to adjust their light-enhancers as the sentinels of the eastern flank began to turn away from the rest of the formation. They would be temporarily vulnerable to attack while they were gone but all it meant was that Kellok's men would have adapt. That was the nature of Wraith Company, the reason for their continued existence; unlike the rest of the army which was being overrun and overwhelmed constantly, Anderson's men would adapt and combat the Eldar using their own methods. Of course they were losing men to this war of attrition but at least they were making a difference with each loss they took.
"Sir, I think that skirmish we had with that Wave Serpent left my goggles screwed up," complained the lanky Simsan, knocking his light-enhancers against his hellgun's stock.
"Simsan, trade places with Raure. Raure, move on up front," Kellok ordered, scanning the trees at the eastern flank while his men made the swap.
"Blips stationary, approaching targets. Engage?"
An explosion propelling a jet of fire twenty feet into the air interrupted whatever reply Anderson was going to give. The sounds of screeching metal accompanied it, the mechanical screams ripping through the short-range vox transmissions. A secondary explosion rocked the ground beneath the soldier's feet causing more then one of them to lose their balance and tumble to the ground but Kellok stayed upright. After a millisecond of indecision the soldier's conditioning kicked in; Kellok gestured to Yehannik and Derec who popped a krak grenade into their launchers. The other men fanned out, not giving their attackers an opportunity to surround them. That had been the mistake of too many officers in the past; ordering their men to form into a circle or line where they would be conveniently outflanked and promptly defeated.
"Lohan is bzzzzzzt down. Back-up requ-bzzzzzt." Giller droned into Kellok's ears, immediately accompanied by a multitude of others.
"Lohan's gone and Giller's sentinel is damaged, multiple contacts!" Leary reported from his sentinel, the closest to the contact area. The sound of his multi-laser discharging in rapid succession amplified the noise of the skirmish in Kellok's ears. "Blinkers took out Lohan with a charge and hopped but we've got at least five, six contacts firing at us. Shuriken fire isn't denting the armour but my servos are exposed."
Kellok flipped the safety off on his pistol and revved his chainsword; the whirring teeth capable of fully punching through a man with ease leaving nothing but blood and pieces strewn everywhere. This chainsword had seen the inside of countless bellies and chopped off the limbs of a score of men and xenos alike, an heirloom that was passed down from father to son. Kellok had no child yet to the pass the eviscerating blade onto so he gripped the chainsword, letting all the rage and frustration that this xenos threat brought him seethe in the very metal itself. He would cut down as many of the Eldar as he had to in order to go back to his gutted home and father a son.
He caught his first glimpse of the enemy as he rushed through the brush, the smell of burning metal searing his nostrils and lungs. A sentinel lay in a twisted heap of slag in a small clearing, circuits exposed and sparking in the black smoke that hung about the wreckage. Giller's sentinel stood nearby, cycling its multi-laser and sending lances of red light at the smallest shadow; puncturing tree trunks and setting shrubbery alight. One of the Eldar had been caught by the lasfire and was lying dead by the hole-ridden trunk of one tree opposite Kellok; white and blue armour had been blown off in chunks, an orange ridge of straightened hair graced his helmet.
"We've got ridge-heads," reported Kellok into his headset even as one of the Avengers shot at him from an absurdly-close position. Immediately Giller's sentinel fired into the bush where the shot came from, revealing the smoking body of an Eldar.
Feeling his hellgun begin to vibrate in his hands, Kellok chanted a short litany to the Machine-Spirit within the gun as he pulled the trigger, sending a powerful red laser into the trees opposite. The rifle kicked into his shoulder but the stock stopped it from breaking the bones. It was an old friend of Kellok's, the one he could trust on in his times of need the most. Shuriken fire erupted in response as the Eldar popped out of hiding for a split-second, allowing Kellok to memorise their positions before diving behind the nearest tree. Several of the men under his command had joined him, charging their hellguns while waiting for the cascade of \shuriken fire to die down. Not particularly powerful when compared to a Space Marine's Bolter or the penetrating beam of a hellgun, the Eldar weapons still packed a decent punch and could easily take a man out of commission even from a stray hit.
Derec peeked his grenade launcher out of cover and angled it high. One of the Eldar's shuriken's cut into the barrel, jarring the weapon in his hands but Derec merely grimaced and waited. Kellok's ears were filled with the noise of the Eldar's weapons discharging and the rest of the company's loud but organised orders and responses to one another. The moment the hail of fire slowed down Kellok's men peered from out of cover, gloved fingers pressing firmly on well-used weapons. As one the storm of lasfire blew into the Eldar's side of the clearing, the concentrated fire setting the very trees alight as they punched through wood, armour then the flesh of those behind the trees. Derec's frag grenade blew from the Eldar's position, showering shrapnel and blood across a small radius. Kellok swung out an arm, ordering the men to hold their fire.
Only the sound of flames crackling could be heard against the panting rhythm from the men. Every skirmish with the Eldar sent the blood pumping and the men's senses would be heightened by the effects of adrenaline for a while longer. Kellok was the first to take a step out of cover, peering curiously at the remains of the Eldar. A total of five Eldar lay dead by their hands; armour smoking from where the hellguns caught them, the flesh underneath still sizzling. It was the smell of victory to Kellok. Turning to his cheering men, he was horrified to hear a new noise; the cacaphony of meltaguns all firing. Giller's sentinel almost fell to the floor as he hurried to move the damaged walker, a melta beam would surely mean the end of him. Fire Dragons had closed in on them, using typical Eldar trickery. Kellok snorted, listening to the orders pouring through the vox while his men twirled around, listening to the fire coming from Wraith Company's formation.
They'd been fooled into breaking the wedge; chasing a small force of Eldar spread out as far as Wraith Company's formation was long. The entire left flank of the formation had disintegrated, allowing a larger Eldar force of Fire Dragons and Striking Scorpions to attack the sentinels on the right flank and the rearguard. Unsupported by infantry, four sentinels had been melted to slag by the fierce meltaguns of the Fire Dragons while the cloaked Scorpions had hid in the trees high above the formation, dropping down and disembowelling the rearguard, cutting off any hope of escape.
"Malfur, get your men over to my position, quick now man! Kellok, form your men in a circle around Giller. He's damaged but his sentinel is the only one equipped with a missile pod," Anderson ordered over the comms, the sound of lasfire in the background. "Erik, get yourself over to the rear with Darik and take out those Scorpions!"
"Can't sir, Darik's gone. Dragon got-" Darik's reply was cut short, the vox buzzing furiously at the lost signal.
"Well, boys, we've got quite the battle on our hands now! Get into position around Giller over there!" Kellok pointed over at Giller's sentinel that was now lying in wait in the centre of the bloody remnants of the Avengers. "We know how these tricky buggers think, we've fought them for a year now and it's time we pay them back!"