Chapter XI
Part 2
The impact shook the entire vessel, and knocked it off course, sending them spiraling downwards. Warning lights started blinking frantically, alarms cried out for attention, as Jane fought with the controls, her heart beating against her chest, said alarms beeping into her ears painfully loud. They were so close, already she could see the plateau at the mountain's top where she was supposed to land. She snarled, trying to stabilize their flight, and finally managed to stop the ship to spiral, though they were still going downwards. Fast.
Still wrestling with the controls, Jane brought their vessel around. If they were falling, they could at least fall down the right direction. Thanks to the Tyranids, the flat mountaintop was covered with trees, and desperately Jane searched for something like a clearing, but spotted none; they would crash into the trees. Even if Taylor hid them all with his aura, the surrounding Tyranids would no doubt take notice of their arrival. They kept flying at an inclined angle, leaving a trail of smoke behind them. Fuel was leaking, Jane could smell it, her face still lit by the red and orange lamps of the various alarms and warnings, the light reflected by the pearls of sweat running down her face.
"Brace for impact!" The medicae shouted over the noise, seconds before the ship scratched the top of the trees.
Another second later the tops broke, cracking like bones as tons of steel hit them. The impact shook the ship as well, and Jane could hear the metal groaning. She was already trying to slow them down but gravity was working against her. They fell further and hit the trees, which trunks offered more resistance. Many logs broke, yet they slowed the Lander's decent abruptly, leaving it to crash to the ground, entire trees and branches collapsing upon it. At this point Jane was already unconscious, her head having met the dashboard mere moments ago.
…
"…Jane…Jane?" The voice seemed to come to her from very far away, reaching her in the darkness. Only slowly did her senses return and she slowly regained sensations in her limbs. Her fingers and toes tingled, and she moved her head, feeling the cool dashboard and the buttons on her face, wet, warm blood, running from her forehead. "Jane." It was Taylor; only now could she identify his voice and she groaned in response.
Slowly she lifted her head, just a few centimeters and opened her eyes. Beyond the cockpit she could see only branches, some having pierced through the glass, which had cracked upon impact no doubt. "What happened?" How long had she been out?
"Easy there, you took quite a hit." Taylor told her soothingly, though she already felt a headache coming, his presence growing more and more irritating.
Carefully Jane sat up in her seat, feeling a little dizzy. "I suppose we've landed?"
"Yes, even on the right spot; it would seem you have paid attention to your lessons." He grinned. "Your landing needs practice though."
She snorted mildly amused. "Agreed." Jane replied, rubbing her forehead, wiping away some of the blood. "Good thing the trees caught us, otherwise I think we would have crashed right into the ground."
Taylor nodded. "We cut quite the aisle into the forest; the young trees were no match for our bird."
"Everyone else is alright?" She asked worriedly. If her mistakes had cost someone's life…
"Pericles and I have gained a few bruises but the Astartes are all unharmed. They are waiting just outside."
Relived Jane sighed and nodded. "We shouldn't keep them waiting." She got up, the world spinning for a moment, her steps unsteady at first before she followed Taylor out of the cockpit, brushing away the still sizzling cables that were hanging in her way like twines. Before she left the cockpit however, she grabbed Seth's Hellgun Taylor had given to her only a few hours earlier.
Cyrus kept his wary eyes on the forest surrounding them. The Aquila Lander had cut an aisle through the trees, their broken trunks creating a roof over their heads. The Untouchable had gone to see after their pilot, and the Astartes were cautious to remain within the aura he created. He wondered if someone else should have been flying them, but as he regarded the spore-shower that was only slowly lessening in intensity, he had the feeling that no one could have brought them through unscathed. At least they were all alive and their equipment functional, except for the Lander itself.
Well, he hadn't expected to survive this day anyway.
Footsteps announced the Untouchable's return, the medicae right behind him, a few lines of blood crossing her face, having run down from her right temple and gathered at the top of her breathing mask, which was now covering her nose and mouth.
"Medicae Pravin." Nadim spoke to her. "Are you alright?"
"I am well enough, Milord." She assured the Salamander, who nodded in response.
"Good; we've wasted enough time." Apothecary Seneca noted. "If the maps were accurate, there should be a slope, leading to another plateau further down the mountain where the Inquisitor has located the Hive Tyrant's psychic presence. Stay close together and keep your eyes sharp. Even though most Tyranids will be heading to the citadel, there will be aliens protecting the Tyrant. Move out!"
They followed the Apothecary into the forest, forming a spear tip, Cyrus right of and behind Seneca, as well as Quintus, while the Guard Captain Pericles was left between Seneca and Nadim. The medicae and Untouchable walked in their center, relatively well protected. Nothing stirred in the forest, the young trees having grown thin and tall here. Flowers were sprouting everywhere, colorful, their stems covered with thorns. It was dark, but such conditions didn't bother the Astartes as they marched through the undergrowth, crushing the vegetation beneath their heavy boots. The mountain top was not too broad and it took them mere minutes to reach its edge. There the steep side was covered with twines, their roots clawing into the stone. They followed the edge, until they reached a slope, broad enough for maybe two Astartes to walk side by side, except for maybe Nadim, who was holding his heavy Plasma Cannon. Noises from below reached them. The Kill Team was no longer alone.
"Tyranids?" Quintus asked, already aiming down the slope with his bolter.
"Even if they can't sense us, they must have heard the crash, perhaps smelled us." The Ultramarine Apothecary answered him.
Nadim walked up and readied his weapon. "In any case, this narrow is the ideal place to face them."
"I agree with our brother." Cyrus spoke. "Down there in the forest it would be too simple for the xenos to ambush us; I'd rather have them in front of our barrels."
Seneca nodded. "Take positions and fire on sight. Let none fight us wanting."
"Suffer not the alien to live." The other three Astartes answered him with the Deathwatch's own motto, before Cyrus turned to the three humans. "Remain behind us and out of our way."
The medicae and the Captain nodded, while the Untouchable answered for them with a dry tone. "With pleasure, Milord."
The Astartes took position, this time with Nadim in their center. Snarls and hisses could be heard from the forest below, but the vegetation was too thick for them to see the enemy. The Kill Team itself was equally covered by shrubbery and lush fronds; their enemies would not spot them right away. Cyrus himself was leaning against the trunk of a tree, with his sniper rifle aiming down the slope. Something moved down there, branches broke. Then he saw it. A Tyranid Warrior walked to the foot of the acclivity, its elongated head raised as it sniffed the air. Two more appeared, their yellow eyes searching the coppice, all three carrying what Cyrus knew from records to be deathspitters, known to fire large, maggot-like organisms with highly corrosive innards. When fired, these creatures would then eat their way through their unfortunate victim. The Blood Raven had seen many horrible things, repulsive aliens and horrible, twisted things the warp could do to anything it touched. But the Tyranids…the Tyranids seemed to top it all.
Just as the three Warriors had appeared, Nadim fired his cannon, a bright plasma bolt flying towards the aliens. They saw it, one trying to leap out of the way, but the bolt hit the one in the center, the following explosion swallowing the other two as well. The nearby plants were evaporated or burned to ash, while a few trees broke and fell, blue flames crawling over their trunks. Screams from below answered them, revealing more Tyranids that were now most likely closing in. Indeed, mere moments after the explosion, more Warriors, Hormagaunts and a few Termagants began to flock to the newly formed crater, and Nadim seized the opportunity to fire anew. Cyrus however was faster and slayed a Warrior with a headshot, the decapitated body flying backwards. It was after the second plasma bolt that the xenos realized where their enemies were.
The Gants stormed upwards, screeching, claws raised, while the handful of remaining Warriors fired. Acid burned the tree Cyrus used as cover, and as soon as the volley had ended, he shot another two Warriors, before they returned fire anew. He snarled, when a shot of acid burned a fist-sized hole in the ground next to his foot and a shot of a deathspitter scratched his left arm. Cyrus saw the gray, maggot-like creature, how it was first crawled up into a ball, but quickly stretched out. Swiftly, and disgusted, the Blood Raven grabbed it with his other fist and crushed it, before it could eat its way into his arms, though the acid burned his glove, letting bubbles grow from the ceramite.
Nadim and Quintus meanwhile were keeping the Termagants and Hormagaunts at bay, slaying them until the slope was covered with alien bodies. With another two rounds from his sniper, Cyrus finished off the last Warriors, clearing the path and it was once more silent in the forest. Seneca was the first to head down the acclivity, his Power Sword glowing with a dim blue light, humming peacefully. The Salamander and Red Scorpion followed him, the Inquisitor's operatives behind them, with Cyrus himself forming the rear. They stepped over the corpses, or whatever was left of them, as the plasma had left little to nothing behind, and they reached the lower plateau, which was about twenty meters below the top, and went almost completely around the mountain, though it was not too broad, ten meters at most, usually even more narrow. Slowly the Kill Team moved through the forest, careful not to make too much noise. None of them could see very far, and they relied more on their ears, but for the time being only the wind seemed to be with them in the coppice.
They walked for about fifteen minutes undisturbed through the woods when it got lighter. Seneca lifted his hand, and they stopped, waiting for his orders. He called Cyrus over the vox. "Brother Cyrus, I have need of your eyes." The Apothecary told him. "The Tyrant will certainly be on the clearing ahead; scout the area and report back."
"Understood."
Silently Cyrus moved forward, his footsteps making barely a sound; Maccius, his brother, who had belonged to their Kill-Team before the Lictor had slain him a few days ago, had come from the Raven Guard, the chapter that had perfected the art of silent and stealthy movement, calling it wraith-slipping. During their long training sessions between each deployment, the Raven Guard had shown Cyrus another trick or two, which the Scout Sergeant had sworn to take to his own initiates, should he ever return to them.
He snuck passed his brothers, towards the edge of the forest. Sickly light welcomed him as he reached the large clearing, the plateau broadening immensely, possible the same dimensions as the mountaintop itself, now bordered at three sides by a steep gradient and to one side by the woods, which was still only the ten meters wide path they were coming from, but the wind blew into his direction; good, at least their scent would not be carried over to the Tyranids. Said clearing was covered with small shrubbery and several large rocks, the only cover there was. It would be impossible to approach the Tyranids any further without revealing oneself. There were a few craters with the remains of Mycetic Spores, likely those that had brought the Tyrant and his guard to the planet, and they were not too far away.
Cyrus was still close enough to be hidden by the Untouchable's aura, though it would only take him another step or two to leave it. The Tyrant stood close to brink, seemingly overseeing the attack on Seraphim Citadel, the stronghold visible in the distance at the horizon. The Scout Sergeant could see small explosions, evidence of the battle that had finally begun. Time was against them, his expression turning into a frown. Quickly he turned his attention back to the Tyranids on the clearing; aside from the Tyrant, a two-legged hulking monster, with a sword growing from one hand that looked as if it was made of bone, a whip made of muscle and two scything talons, there were three Tyrant Guards and two Zoanthropes. The Guards were colossal living shields for the Tyrant, with bulky bodies, protected by interlocking layers of chitinous plates, having to walk on four limbs to carry their massive weight. Their small heads were eyeless, and even their other two limbs, were only cooperatively small scything talons; these creatures most likely simply ran over and trampled their enemies. The Zoanthropes were stranger creatures still, with huge bloated heads atop of their atrophied, snake-like bodies, seemingly too frail to offer support, only held upright by their own psychic powers, levitating above the ground.
Cyrus spoke quietly into his vox. "I've located the Hive Tyrant. With him are three Tyrant Guards and two Zoanthropes."
"Understood." Seneca answered him. "Moving up to your position."
The Blood Raven could hear them approaching, the Astartes in their Power Armor far too loud for his liking, but the Tyranids didn't seem to notice them. Then again the aliens in the forest around the mountain were making quiet some noise as they headed for the citadel, screams, snarls and hissing coming from millions of throats. Cyrus turned his head a little as the Ultramarine crouched next to him.
"Less opposition than I expected." He noted as he regarded the clearing for himself. "I don't believe the Zoanthropes will pose much of a threat once they are within the Untouchable's aura."
"The Tyrant itself will still give us a fight." Cyrus reminded him. "And once the link is cut, the Guards will go berserk." They needed to be removed from the battlefield, so that the Kill Team could directly engage the Tyrant, but a shot from his sniper rifle would either cause the Tyranids to attack them all in the woods, as Cyrus could not move far away enough to either side in the forest, which was still bordered by the steep gradient to one and the flank of the mountain top at the other side, or would cause Tyrant to flee, something that they could not risk.
"What are you suggesting, brother?" The Apothecary knew that Cyrus had gotten the attention of the Deathwatch for his unusual, yet efficient tactics and after a few missions together, and Seneca knew better than to ignore the Blood Raven's council.
"I will get the attention of the Guards and lead them away from you; once I step out of the aura and fire on them, I'm certain the Tyrant will send his Guards after me. It won't risk having its location compromised." The Tyrant couldn't know that its whereabouts were already known, and certainly wouldn't want an enemy scout to report back to a potential enemy force. Besides, for all it knew he could have been the one killing the Warriors and Gants back in the forest; he wouldn't be the first Astartes to kill an entire brood, and the Team had been visually well hidden by the vegetation. "Then you must quickly begin your attack, cut the link between them and the Tyrant. That way the Guards will continue to go after me, following their last instruction of their master, and you must only face the Tyrant itself." Cyrus feared that if he was to use his sniper rifle, the Tyrant would retreat, disappear into the swarm, but a lone enemy with a weapon that could do little more than scratch its Guards? In such a case the Tyrant was more likely to stand and fight, and that was exactly what they wanted.
Even without seeing his expression, Cyrus knew that Seneca had his concerns, and he couldn't blame him. "You think you can handle them?" The Ultramarine asked quietly.
"They are blind and once the link is cut will turn into mindless, wild beast; I should be fine." The ghost of a smile showed itself on his lips, hidden by his breathing mask. "Regardless, I would be very appreciative for any assistance you can provide, should I be wrong, given that the Tyrant has already been slain."
Finally Seneca nodded. "I will trust you, brother. Still, such folly isn't like you."
"It was folly coming here, Brother Apothecary." He himself wasn't too happy about his plan, but they couldn't afford to waste time; each minute that beast was alive, more defenders at the citadel died. As cool and detached as Cyrus presented himself, he was certainly not indifferent about the citizens of the Imperium; and perhaps Cyrene's recent destruction was swaying him as well.
Seneca chuckled briefly. "True enough. Emperor be with you." The Apothecary addressed the others over the vox while Cyrus made the last preparations, most notably exchanging his sniper rifle for a Bolt Pistol and the Plasma Pistol, Hate of the Xenos, he carried with him. "We are ready."
The Blood Raven nodded, a last deep breath to ease his own concern, and suddenly he dashed out of the undergrowth, directly towards the Tyrant Guards. Immediately after getting in range he started to fire, the Hellfire rounds exploding within the chitin but doing comparatively little damaged, the plasma bolts leaving burns and dents; the armor was simply too thick for either. Roaring the Tyrant turned around, its bone-like sword pointed at Cyrus, who swiftly changed direction halfway between the great synapse creature, as well as the Kill Team. Relief caused him to smile briefly when the Tyrant Guards came after him, seeing them running as he looked over his shoulder. What troubled him however was the electricity dancing over the Zoanthropes' heads; he couldn't be certain, but it seemed they were charging for an attack. It was time for Seneca and the others to move in or he would be turned to ash.
Cyrus however had not the time to watch the Team's approach, the Tyrant Guards proving faster than their bulky appearance led on, two splitting up, apparently trying to cut him off. The first was closing in quickly, and stormed towards him like a battering ram. When Cyrus reached one of the large rocks that were scattered across the clearing, he used it to abruptly change direction by pushing himself off it with a powerful kick. The Tyranid could do nothing of the sorts, and while it tried to slow down, it crashed with great speed into the rock. By that time Cyrus had turned around, and taken a cylindrical object from his belt. It was a relatively new type of explosives, originally designed to stick to heavy armored vehicles or infantry, or in the case of the Ordo Xenos, large beasts, with sharp barbs, which would hold on to its target like meat hooks. With well-aimed throw, Cyrus launched it at the Guard, the charge burying itself into the muscles of its hind leg. The beast snarled, though more likely from the pain caused by the stone rather than the small cylinder. Swiftly Cyrus ran anew this time to put some distance between him and the Tyranid in order to escape the coming blast wave.
It was then that all three Guards held in for a moment. They lifted their heads, throwing them around, snarling in what seemed to be confusion. Cyrus risked a glance over to the Tyrant and saw how the rest of the Kill Team had begun their attack. Even the Tyrant seemed to stagger when he entered the Untouchable's aura, and with that the link was cut. It also meant that the Tyrant Guards were about to go berserk, a natural instinct to ensure that everything was slain that could spread word of a Tyrant's defeat, and more importantly the means. Such information was not supposed to be spread. Blind as they were, as mindless as they had now become, the Guards would trust their other senses, hack and trample everything in their path.
Cyrus however had not wasted the moment of confusion, and taken cover behind another rock, which could have easily provided cover for two Astartes in full armor. He pulled a small device from a pouch and pressed the red button on it.
The explosion shook the earth, a bright light momentarily lightening the area, throwing long shadows. Cyrus saw pieces of chitin scales and plates fly passed his cover, many of them smoking and burned black, great chunks of the rock he'd been hiding behind breaking off as well. He was admittedly surprised at the power; the Techpriest had understated it, and he would have to be more careful, if he didn't want to kill himself. Pulling out the second charge, Cyrus looked around the remains of his cover, seeing the other two Guards rushing to the newly created crater, their small scything talons hacking wildly. They searched the crater sniffing the air, snarling and growling. Unfortunately they were moving further and further away from each other again. Knowing he needed to be quick, he threw the next charge, which flew in a great arch, and Cyrus, having the detonator already ready in his hand, had left his cover, not only to aim his throw but in order to time the explosion. The cylindrical object hit one of the Tyrant Guards, yet to his frustration only scratched the chitin, the hooks leaving marks in the plates. Swiftly, far too swiftly for a thing of such statue and weight, the Guard turned around screaming, hacking anew with its talons and started to storm away, searching for whatever had attacked it.
Cyrus hadn't hesitated and already pressed the button, however there was a delay. Within the next two seconds the metal container blinked three times, before its contains exploded, giving the Guard enough time to take a few steps away from it. The explosion hit it from behind, breaking bones and chitin, burning flesh. The beast survived horribly crippled, the hind legs gone, blood spewing from its body. It was crying out in agony, lying there on its side, trying to move with only its front legs, one of which was broken.
The blast wave almost threw Cyrus, who had been trying to get back into cover, the previous rock being no longer sufficient, off his feet as well, but he managed to catch himself, having been pushed back though, shielding his face with his armored forearms, as sharp pieces of Tyranid chitin were launched at him. A few cut over his legs, but the Larraman Cells closed these comparatively minor wounds quickly again, though two pieces got stuck in his thigh. Each piece was as long as his hand, though thankfully had not completely dug into his flesh and he tore them out, blood spraying briefly before the wounds closed as well, at least superficially.
Such things however were not his concerns in that moment. No, the last of the Tyrant Guards had found him. The beast stormed towards him, and Cyrus took the third of his four charges from his belt, smiling grimly. This could work to his advantage. He waited for the alien to come to him, and readied himself, feeling the earth vibrating beneath the Guards steps. Three seconds; he checked his grip. Two seconds; he bent his knees slightly. One second.
He performed a quick roll away from the Tyranid, which ran past him and just as his upper body came up again, turned it around, the charge in his fist, and with all his strength, Cyrus punched the object into the Tyrant Guard's leg, the metal container digging deeply into the muscle. Just as the Blood Raven was getting back on his feet, the Tyranid tried to slow down and turn around, however it slid over the ground a few meters further. It was difficult to get that much weight to a complete stop. By that time, Cyrus had already thrown himself into a nearby crater. He landed on the strangely soft, but also mucilaginous insides of a Mycetic Spore, and pressed the button just as the beast turned around to come after him.
The blast wave washed over him, throwing his hair into his face, and he felt the heat once more upon his skin. Flames licked at the edges of the crater in a bluish color, setting the mucus aflame. Cyrus rose back to his feet, the sticky substance creating long threats, which he dragged along for a while. Slightly disgusted he wiped them off as best he could from his black armor, as he walked out of the crater again, and much was probably still clinging to his back.
Calmly Cyrus walked over to the crippled Tyrant Guard, still throwing its head around, still crying out. The Blood Raven did not care if it cried for its ilk, or simply in pain. With two Hellfire rounds in its head, he ended its misery. Immediately he felt himself calming again, but it didn't last, apprehension clawing at his thoughts. It was time to see how well his brothers had fared with the Tyrant itself.
Nadim saw his brother run, the Tyrant Guards following him. He gritted his teeth, his finger crooked, but not pulling the trigger just yet. No, he had to wait for the Apothecary to give the order, and his gaze turned back to the Tyrant. The large creature was towered higher than any other Tyranid Nadim had seen so far, its skin dark red, almost the color of human blood, its chitin plates black and blue, while its sword looked as if it was made of grey bone. Next to it were the Zoanthropes, levitating above the ground, their snake-like bodies upright, as if they were merely a spine carrying an oversized head. As soon as the Tyrant had sent out his Guards to deal with the only intruder it knew about, blue lighting began to dance over the Zoanthropes' heads, first only a few flashes, growing quickly into a storm. If they hit, they could turn Cyrus to ash.
The Salamander felt relief when Seneca finally gave the order, likely seeing the danger as well. The three Astartes were the first to exit the woods, storming the clearing. Quintus was shouting the loudest, putting all his hate for the xenos into his voice. The Tyrant heard them and turned around, its head a little tilted; it almost seemed that it was confused by their sudden appearance, their psychic presents still hidden to it and its Zoanthropes, which thoroughly relied on sensing their enemies. They had turned as well, the lighting on their heads flaring up and dying again, a process that continued while the Kill Team approached. Nadim was guessing that the Tyrant told its psykers to attack them, but thanks to Taylor, the beast had no idea what to aim their attacks at. The Salamander knew that the Acolytes were running behind him, trying to keep up as best as possible.
Then it happened.
The aura reached the Tyranids, both Tyrant and Zoanthropes, and the effects could be seen immediately. The Zoanthropes' lighting completely died, their bodies swayed for a few moment in the air, before collapsing to the ground. The snake-like creatures were withering, hissing it agony, as far as their animalistic sounds could be interpreted by human ears. Their tails swayed over the earth, knocking upon it time and time again. The Tyrant however remained standing. It too swayed and took a couple of steps back, as if suddenly hit by a great force, but then it snarled defiantly, shook it head once, and greeted them with a deafening roar. This one would give them a fight.
"Acolytes." Nadim had stopped, being close enough to fire his weapon accurately at the beast, and spoke to the operatives, who had now caught up with him. "Stay behind me at all times." He didn't want any of them in harm's way, even less in front of his weapon.
"With pleasure, Milord." The medicae answered him, a little out of breath, and from the corner of his eyes he saw her and Captain Pericles taking cover behind a rock, though it was hardly necessary at the moment. At least this way the Tyrant wouldn't spot them. The Untouchable took similar actions only taking a rock a little closer to the Zoanthropes. Still neither of them was in danger of getting into Nadim's line of fire.
In front of him Seneca and Quintus were splitting up, the Apothecary moving to the Tyrant's left, the Red Scorpion to its right. Even if they were only three, this beast could not escape them. There would never be an opportunity like this again.
The Tyrant glared at them all with its yellow eyes, full with malice and even intelligence. Swiftly, swifter than Nadim had expected from the creature, it turned to Seneca and charged at the Apothecary, who was closest to the path leading down into the forest. Quickly the Salamander fired, releasing two bolts of hot plasma, careful not to overheat his weapon too early, hoping to wound the beast before it reached Seneca. Quintus had fired at the same time, his faster Hellfire rounds hitting earlier. Those that hit, blew pieces of flesh and chitin from the Tyranids legs, evidence of the Red Scorpion's attempt to cripple the beast. Nadim on the other hand had aimed at two of its four arms in order to disarray it. The first blue bolt only hit above the shoulder, but tore off a great plate from it back, while the second actually hit its mark. One arm with a scything talon was degraded to bits, the one holding the sword injured.
Once more the Hive Tyrant roared, this time in pain, as what was left of its talon fell to the ground, and it staggered, a gushing hole where the arm used to be, black and smoking. Neither of the three Astartes hesitated. Nadim fired again, determined to tear off the sword arm as well, Quintus kept firing at the lesser protected leg to make it fall and Seneca made his first move, his power Sword aiming at the Tyrants comparatively small, well covered head. Yes, indeed there was little chance of getting to its head other than from the front.
But the Tyrant was not defeated. It brought its other scything talon down, Seneca protecting his body with his sword. Sparks flew upon impact and the Apothecary was shoved to the side, his feet digging into the earth. At that time the whip came around as well, wrapping itself around his waist. The Apothecary growled when the muscle began to crush him, and then the bone sword came from the other side. The beast turned its body at the same time, Nadim's next bolts only hitting its back, once more vaporizing several of the thick chitin plates, the shield-like outgrowths on its back reduced to smoking stumps. However the Salamander's attempt to help his brother, free him if possible, had failed, and he snarled with frustration.
As the sword came down on Seneca, the Ultramarine swung his sword around as well, enforced by the pressure the scything talon had kept upon it. With this combined strength he met the bone sword, the Tyranid weapon cracking but not yet breaking under the impact. However the scything talon was now no longer meeting any opposition, and finally came down. Seneca roared when the talon cut deeply into his right, upper arm, the power armor breaking, pieces flying off. With one fitful pull with its whip, the Tyrant threw the Apothecary away like a ragdoll.
"Seneca!" Nadim moved closer with slow, steady steps, firing again, determined to exact revenge, a fresh wave hate fueling him. Quintus seemed to share the sentiment, and after reloading his weapon continued his efforts to cripple the beast. In the meantime Seneca had hit the ground, his body dragging over the earth. He had landed on his heavily injured arm, and now left a trail of blood behind, the sword leaving his grip. Finally his arm couldn't take the stress and was pulled off along the cut. Blood leaked from it as the Apothecary continued to slide two meters further, before coming to a stop. At least his Narthecium was still intact, as far as the Salamander could judge, but it did little to ease his mind.
Because nevertheless, it was up to him and Quintus now to finish the beast, the plasma and Hellgun fire from the Acolytes being little effective against the thick Tyranid armor. Fortunately a handful of Quintus' rounds punched through one of the beast's knees. It howled loudly, as it sunk down, trying to support its weight with its remaining, if wounded leg. The one the Red Scorpion had shot through was now bend in an unnatural angle, only connected to the rest by a few fibers. Its talon came down again, not as an attack, but was rammed into the ground to keep the Tyrant as upright as possible. Nadim smiled grimly but satisfied beneath his helmet, his latest bolt hitting the other leg by the hip. There was another bright explosion a new howl, and even before the light was gone, the Salamander could hear the massive body fall.
The light disappeared, the dust settled, revealing the downed Hive Tyrant. Its head swayed around, its spiteful yellow eyes searching for anyone foolish enough to approach it; after all the tail and most of its arms could still tear its opponents apart. Nadim however didn't need to get close to it. Keeping a respectful distance he walked around it, until he faced its front. He charged a single powerful shot, feeling the cannon growing warm, the chamber brightening up like a miniature sun. The Tyrant spotted this, and glared at Nadim with fierce defiance, fletching its sharp fangs, as it snarled.
When the Salamander released the bolt the Tyranid roared at him one final time.
The plasma claimed not only its head, but the thick chitin plates around it, as well as the upper parts of both its back and chest. The corpse collapsed still smoking, first the arms, and then the body tilted over to its right side. It was done, and the Salamander breathed deeply.
Nadim looked over to the other creatures, feeling himself notably calming, the tension leaving his body. One of the Zoanthropes was lying motionless by now, dead as it seemed, while the other was still twitching, hissing pitifully. Quintus walked over to them, he raised his bolter and ended their misery, though it was no act of mercy, only one of hate, shooting both into their oversized brains. The twitching stopped and the aliens did no longer move, dark blood gathering in a pool around their heads.
The Acolytes left their cover, their eyes wary on the slain Tyrant; the sheer size of the beast was still impressive. Nadim and Quintus however paid no more heed to it, instead they rushed to Seneca. By now he had propped himself up against a rock, and injected several drugs into his body with the Narthecium. The stump was hardly bleeding anymore, but with only one hand, which was operating the Apothecaries iconic tool, there was little else he could do.
"Brother, how fare your wounds?" Nadim asked worriedly.
The Apothecary's breathing was labored, but his voice remained surprisingly calm. "I can survive them, Nadim. Fear not for me, but I could use the assistance of another pair of hands."
"Tell me what you need me to do, Brother Apothecary." Quintus spoke, holstering his bolter.
Seneca nodded. "Please get me the medicae as well; I will need her finer hands and expertise to seal the blood vessels properly."
"Medicae Pravin!" The young woman tore her attention from the dead xenos, when Nadim called her. "Your aid is needed!"
Without hesitation she ran over to the Astartes, the two men following her, but merely walking. She kneeled down next to Seneca, as he began to talk her through the procedure immediately. Before Nadim turned around, he saw her take some tools from her own equipment, while the Apothecary still explained. As the Salamander looked back to the Tyrant he spotted Cyrus, rejoining them. The Blood Raven had only suffered scratches as it seemed, some on his armor, a few cuts in the fabric of his clothes, dried blood around them. Some grey mucilage was still clinging to his arms and legs. Beneath his helmet, Nadim smiled relieved. "Cyrus; good to see you're alright."
"Likewise, brother." His brother replied, his voice as neutral as ever, when he stopped next to Nadim.
"How was your fight with the Guards?"
"Mindless beast without their leader, dangerous nonetheless; still I was able to outmaneuver them." The Blood Raven saw Seneca, as he was treating his own injury with Quintus' and the medicae's help, a concerned frown changing his expression. "The Tyrant?"
The Salamander looked back to the Apothecary as well and sighed. "Yes, just before we managed to bring it down, its talon took his arm. We are lucky that this is the only injury we've suffered."
"We can thank our Untouchable for that." Cyrus noted, giving Taylor and appreciative nod, a gesture that surprised the young man, if his widening eyes were anything to go by. "I suppose that without him, the Tyrant would have called its ilk to aid it, and this place would be crawling now with Tyranid beasts."
"Undoubtedly. Still, how are to return to the citadel; with the Lander crippled we're stranded."
"Sir, may I make a suggestion?"
Both Astartes turned around to the Captain of the Governor's Guard. "Speak, Captain Pericles." Nadim encouraged him, though the friendly tone of his voice was hardly recognizable due to his helmet.
The man took a deep breath through his mask, and began to explain. "Many of the noble families of this Sector have built private retreats in this area. I believe one or two are even in walking distance to this mountain."
"How is that helping?" Taylor asked, looking around as if he was trying to spot a building somewhere in the jungle.
"Let's just say, collecting vehicles was something of a widespread pastime on this world, aside from hunting. If we make it to one of these mansions, we might find sufficient means of transportation to choose from."
Cyrus and Nadim looked at each other, before the latter nodded slowly. "It is likely our best bet. Can you lead us straight to one of them?"
"I will only need a few minutes to orientate myself, but I'm certain I can find the way." Captain Pericles assured them.
There was a frown on the Untouchable's face. "How do you know these places so well?"
"The late Governor often visited these mansions for parties or on excursions. As head of his security I had to study everyplace we went to in order to ensure his safety."
Taylor put his hand on Pericles' shoulder and Nadim could imagine the usual smirk beneath the man's breathing mask as he spoke. "Well, good thing you came along then."
Bellum omnium contra omnes
War of all against all
...Despite the enemies faced in this chapter, the finale is due for the next one, as both Nicomedo and the Kill Team will face greater challenges yet...