EIGHT
Having soaked up enough water to almost double my body weight, an opportunity to dry off inside the armoured womb of a chimera was a welcomed relief. Being inside Sulla's command chimera, though, I had to be careful where I wrung my hair out and extra careful when moving my arms around, as I flung water in every direction whenever I moved. Even though we were part of a convoy spearheading a push through potentially Tau-controlled city streets, I figured I had time to hang my coat and hat near a heat exhaust to let them dry out a little bit. Even though there was still a lot of fighting left, I was still a bit dazed and shook up from my close brushes with death (and explosions) so I assumed, rightly or wrongly. Probably both that I wasn't going to be in the thick of it for the time being. With the adrenaline wearing out from my system, all the aches and pains of having been flung from the top of a Leman Russ were settling in and I realized shortly after sitting down that my shoulders were killing me. Combat also had a strange habit of working up a huge appetite so I fished a ration bar out of my pocket. It was a good thing that the wrapping kept the bar dry because it turned out to be the only thing in my possession still dry. It should be noted that the only thing less palatable than a military ration bar was a soggy military ration bar as they had a tendency to turn into a mushy sludge if allowed to soak up water (though when taken to an extreme and mixed with a bit of spice and warm powdered milk ration, it can be a semi-decent porridge).
"Any word from Cain?" I asked after munching on a mouthful.
"The occasional rallying call and indecipherable battle cry but so far not much in terms of tactical appraisals," the vox operator answered, handing me his headphones for a moment to hear what he was referring to. Were it not for his cemented reputation as a stalwart hero, I would likely have mistook those battle cries for incoherent shrieks of fear and panic-induced ramblings but the thought of Cain fleeing like a little child was difficult to fathom, though a little amusing if you were imaginative enough.
"Who's in command over there?"
"Captain Detoi."
"Maybe he's a bit more talkative," I muttered as I patched myself through to his vox channel. Since the good captain was still busy barking out orders to his lieutenants, I waited a few minutes as I didn't wish to interrupt him. From what I could gather from his orders, the situation did not sound good (then again, that had quickly become the norm for the day). Once things appeared to have settled down, I stepped into the conversation. "Captain Detoi, how's the situation over there?"
"Delicate," he replied tactfully. "Whom am I speaking to exactly?"
"It's Commissar Abel," I answered.
"Oh, my apologies commissar, I didn't recognize your voice." That was understandable as even the most stable conversation over a vox channel was like talking in a blizzard. "It looks like we've landed right into the middle of an enemy spearhead. We've got multiple Tau and PDF armour units across the north-western front as well as encircling PDF units to the south. We were lucky, though, I think we caught them a bit by surprise. We've formed a defensive parameter around the transport but enemy reinforcements seem to keep pushing in. It's like this whole Emperor-forsaken city wants us dead."
"Do you know where the commissar is?"
"Sorry but I'm afraid I lost sight of him and I haven't had much luck raising him on the vox. Not to sound impatient but when are you getting here?"
"Barring anything disastrous, I'd say about ten minutes." It was a generous estimate but Sulla had given orders to the whole convoy to keep advancing. Whether it was a coincidence or the city really was gunning for Detoi's men, resistance on route was very light. Most scattered pockets of infantry we ran into were easily torn apart by our heavy bolters and multilasers. The fact that at the very front was a rolling house of death probably deterred anybody from sticking their heads up. Our convoy lurched to a sudden halt with a shout from one of the driver's alerting us to krak rocket teams up ahead in one of the buildings. I can still remember Waffans boisterous laugh in response.
"Let's get rid of the problem then, shall we?" he mused and even from within the confines of a chimera some five vehicles back I could hear the roar of his tank's plasma cannon and the resonating 'boom' that it brought forth. At the time I wasn't too concerned with getting wet again just to see the result but days later when I strolled by the area I noticed that there was a massive pile of bricks and rubble where an apartment building used to be. I thought momentarily of the displaced citizenry but if its architecture was the same as the rest of the city, I'm pretty sure it had offended the Emperor somehow. If the Kriegans knew one thing, it was how to make a huge crater in the Emperor's name.
Gauging our progress by the increasing frequency of pings and clangs off our hull, I deduced we had entered the fray when it sounded as though there was a storm of raining bullets. When we lurched to a halt once more, we were officially in position and the other chimeras began to unload their troopers into the field. After grabbing my coat and hat, I popped the top hatch to take a cautious peak outside. I emerged just in time to get my retina stabbed by the flash of another plasma blast from the stormblade, which caught a PDF Leman Russ and its accompanying troopers completely by surprise. The term 'overkill' flashed through my mind briefly but as Cain had taught me over our years together, there really was no such thing. The Traitor's Lament continued pushing forward, bolters and lascannon lighting up anything that dared to oppose it and making good of its namesake. Sulla's chimera followed a Leman Russ tank as we continued our way through the narrowing streets of Vertens, which was, unfortunately forcing us to take an alternate route from Waffans. Even divided, though, our forces were making good speed as the lowly PDF forces were not only outmatched but unprepared for our assault. I got the impression that nobody had taken the liberty to inform them that the starport had fallen.
A flash of movement ahead drew my attention to newly arriving threats and a familiar sense of dread that I had only just gotten over. An infernal Tau battlesuit landed in the streets up ahead but before the tank could fire its payload we noticed something, or more specifically someone, falling from the rooftops. For a moment, I could hardly belief what I was witnessing but my eyes were not deceiving me and I had just watched Commissar Cain jump from a rooftop and land square on the back of a Tau battlesuit.
Even before my attachment to the 597th I had heard a fair bit about the exploits of Ciaphas Cain and had taken much of them with a grain of salt. I was sceptical to believe that a single man could achieve so much so quickly and against such impossible odds but those doubts soon departed when I witnessed what Cain was truly capable of in a fight. Now to be fair, having known and fought alongside the man for so many years I can say with little doubt that much of what a person hears is embellished to a slight degree. That isn't to say that Cain is not a hero of the Imperium and I would be the first to step to his defence against those who would venture such wild supposition – I merely state that all stories tend to get embellished, including his. However, to complain about such a small point is like complaining about receiving a baneblade and discovering that it only had ten barrels instead of the advertised eleven. Sure you didn't get what you were told but it's a baneblade for Emperor's sake and it'll be better than anything you'll likely come across.
That day I got my first real taste of what Cain the Hero was truly capable of. With no regards to his own safety he had leapt headlong onto a battlesuit. I also noticed that the rooftop that he had leapt from erupted from a hail of rockets seconds later though I doubt that he had ever taken notice of them. Somebody must have shouted to the tank commander ahead to hold his fire because the tank did nothing but watch as Cain clung with all his strength to the back of the machine. It appeared the machine failed to realize Cain's presence immediately but soon began to swing wildly in an attempt to buck him loose. All the technology in the galaxy, though, failed to help the Tau battlesuit. Though I could not see it from my vantage point, Cain wedged a primed grenade at the base of the battlesuit's neck. However, when Cain dropped down, the resulting blast failed to significantly damage the machine, leading me to suspect that it had only been a frag grenade (though a krak grenade would probably have killed him too if that had been the case). It didn't matter, though, as the pilot must have been disorientated as Cain ran from the machine unopposed, allowing our Leman Russ to finish it off with a close-range shot to the chest.
I like to think that Cain was both surprised and relieved to see my head poking from the top of the chimera as we came to a halt next to him. Despite being covered in a bit of rockrete dust and looking a tad winded, Cain seemed to be doing fine even without our timely intervention, not that he turned it down.
"Swing those turrets up high!" Cain shouted over the vox as he raced over to our chimera, clambering up the loading ramp. "There's still two more up there."
Almost as if on cue, two more battlesuits came into view at the top of the low buildings, energy cannons trained on the chimera. Almost everybody in the chimera started shouting 'back up' as the driver switched it into the reverse gear. I don't know why but the battlesuits seemed equally concerned with the fleeing chimera as the battle tank that was lining up its turret. While one engaged the tank, the other battlesuit continued on the rooftops in pursuit of us. The multilaser turret shredded the lining of the rooftops as it kept the machine at bay, scoring few hits as the lithe opponent kept jumping across the street. Though I knew there was no chance my laspistol would prove to be any deterrence to the battlesuit, I fired at it regardless, if only to give myself the small comfort of falsely believing I had any control in my survival at this point. Several plasma bolts scored the hull plating and only the advantage of my biotic eye allowed me to keep firing accurately despite the near-blinding flashes around me.
"We're going to need something a bit heavier," I shouted to the people below.
"Move aside commissar, I've got this," one of the guardsmen volunteered, opening small weapons crate and pulling out a single-shot missile launcher. Taking position in the top hatch, he readied his weapon, though the battlesuit was making itself a difficult target to track. "Come on you xeno bastard, hold still!"
Cain instructed the driver to move into a clearing to prevent the battlesuit from continuing to use the rooftops as cover. Dutifully, the chimera swung the vehicle sharply about face and drove down a narrow alley, crushing waste bins and dumpsters along the way, and into a sizeable clearing that would force the battlesuit to the ground if it wanted to continue its pursuit. Either by hubris or stupidity (probably both), the battlesuit landed a few meters behind us, its pilot probably confident in his victory. I like to imagine the smug look on his face quickly vanishing along with the rest of his head as the krak rocket punched straight through the frontal armour and blew apart the chest cavity. There were cheers and whoops of joy from the crew, except for Cain and I as we were supposed to remain calm and collected regardless of the outcome (though I was probably grinning like an idiot juvie).
"Okay, I think that's enough excitement for one day," Cain said with a relieved sigh, which was a sentiment we all felt. The universe, however, had other plans for us and our cheers were cut short when we heard an unfamiliar bestial roar cut through the storm. It was so heavy I felt my organs reverberate and it left an unpleasant feeling in my gut, the kind of feeling that told you that trouble was about to drop onto your lap.
"What in the warp was that?" Cain shouted into his comm bead. "Anybody got eyes on the source?"
"Golden Throne!" shouted the guardsman from the top hatch before letting out a blood-curdling cry as something massive chomped down on the soldier. From inside we couldn't tell at first what had happened; only that something just caused a shower of the guardsman's blood to dump onto our laps and then he was just as suddenly hoisted out from the chimera. We heard a loud chomping sound followed by an even louder roar, then the reassuring crackle of our multilaser firing. That, however, only lasted about a second before there was a loud bang and the turret gunner, with a large hole through his head, dropped into chimera's interior.
"Not to be redundant but what the frak was that?" I whispered, as if a loud noise would prompt another assault. Everyone else must have shared similar feelings because nobody moved and Cain's response was equally as hushed.
"I think it's kroot," he explained, realizing that the hole in the turret gunner didn't match any standard Tau or PDF weapon. Slowly, Cain and I leaned forward to try and peer through the top hatch and we gazed upon for the first time in our lives the giant beast known as a great knarloc. These massive beasts of war are apparently used by the kroot to tackle the most difficult of opponents, which left me wondering what we had done to earn so much attention. Its beady eyes gazed down through the open hatch and Cain and I realized we had exposed our presence. The beast dove in for another attack, its jagged, beak-like like jaw punching through the top hatch even though it was obviously too small to fit through. Everybody hugged the walls as tightly as they could as the beast's jaws thrashed inside the chimera in hopes of snagging a victim.
That victim, alas, was me. When any prospect of snagging a victim seemed lost, the knarloc pulled out, at which point we all realized (or at least I did and my panicked shout alerted the others) that my coat had somehow become ensnared upon the beast's jaw. Before I could shout 'merciful Emperor' I was hoisted out from the chimera and several meters into the air, held in place only by a handful of brass buttons and one hand clutching it tightly to my chest.
"Abel!" Cain shouted when he realized I hadn't yet become a knarloc snack.
"A little help! Right now!" I yelled back. It must have taken a moment or two for the creature to realize that it had actually snared a victim but when it did it flung its head back with enough force that I was practically ripped from my coat and hurled into the air. Whether by a genuine desire to save me despite the slim hope or simply seeing an opportunity to attack the beast, Cain lunged forward and plunged his chainsword into the creature's belly. Though its thick hide hindered his attack, the sudden attack caused the beast to flinch in rage and agony, causing its open maw to jerk away. Instead of dropping down its gullet, I struck it on the forehead and tumbled down its head and neck until hitting something solid on its upper back. Sharp clicks and whistles alerted me to my new situation; apparently a couple of kroot were riding upon the creature's back with the front one operating a primitive turret, which I happened to be resting against. They were probably as surprised as I was but not half as surprised when I levelled my laspistol and blew the first one's brains out. A sudden spasm from the beast jerked us to the side, sending my next shots horribly off-target. When I was finally able to right myself, I was staring down the barrel of a kroot rifle. I thought for certain I was going to need a new pair of undergarments, not to mention a new face, when a gloved hand suddenly reached up from the side, grabbed the kroot by the leg, and pulled it off the side. It let out an amusing little screech as it fell, hitting the rockrete with a reassuring thump before being shot to ribbons by our guardsmen in the chimera.
"Cain?" I asked rhetorically when I realized that he had managed to scale the side of the beast and had just pulled himself up into the saddle.
"Where's your hat?" Cain asked in response. He probably didn't expect a response nor did I give one since it was asinine to expect a person to hold onto their hat after being hurled into the air in preparation for becoming a tasty commissarial snack. Without a coat or a hat I was feeling rather…exposed, almost naked as it were, since those two items were the clearest symbols of my position as a commissar, not to mention they kept the bulk of the rain's chill at bay. Carefully, I swung around Cain and settled into the rear seat of the saddle – a move that might seem insane at first but it was arguably the safest place to hide from the creature. Unless it could do somersaults it wasn't going to dismount us by force
"Heh, kind of like riding the horses at the schola," I joked, still in disbelief at where I was sitting.
"I don't expect we'll be doing any show jumping any time soon," Cain replied as he examined the riggings that we were seated in however we initially saw no means of controlling the beast. I have no idea how but he did mange to figure out the controls for the crude turret in front of him and put it to use upon a group of PDF troopers that were attempting to join the fray. Though only a step above ork weaponry in terms of appearance, it operated quite effectively, unleashing a torrent of explosive shots into the squad of traitors. Though our guardsmen held their fire against the beast in order to avoid hitting us (or more likely, to avoid hitting Cain), the PDF had no qualms about opening fire on the creature that had been fighting for them seconds earlier. Whether it was a response to the lasfire, or by the direction of Cain's turret fire, the knarloc turned its rage against the PDF traitors and stomped its way over to their ranks. With neither the discipline nor the resolve of true guardsmen, the PDF troops broke rank when they realized the creature had turned against them (though why they should be so surprised is beyond me). A tank tried to hold its ground against the knarloc but its jaw clamped down onto its barrel, twisting it as though it were nothing more than a coat hanger. Using its head for a battering ram, it then proceeded to pound on the side of the tank until it overpowered it and knocked it onto its side. From there it started tearing at the vehicle's underbelly like it was an overstuffed grox, ripping off treads and plating as though they were entrails. It was all kind of amusing in a terrifying 'that could have been us' kind of way.
Of course, then came the obvious problem of what to do with our gigantic can opener now that the immediate threat had been eviscerated. The PDF were running like scared little juvies now that it seemed we were in control of the creature but I wouldn't have been surprised if our own troops did similar when it became obvious the beast was simply attacking whoever was close by.
"I think a lobotomy is in order," I suggested, which Cain was likely already thinking since he was drawing his chainsword as I spoke. First hacking off the turret in front of him so he wouldn't have to climb around it, Cain carefully made it way up the neck of the beast using the quills at the base of its head for leverage. A few times the knarloc tried to shake the commissar loose but to no avail and once Cain was in position, he drove his chainsword down with all his might. The beast let out a near-deafening roar of pain as blood, bone, and bits of pulped grey matter sprayed into the air like a sort of grotesque confetti. The creature snarled and thrashed about as though it were having a seizure, its movement erratic and jerky. Cain tried to keep a grip but the spastic flailing eventually flung the commissar off, though in hindsight he probably got off easy. I remained clinging for dear life upon the monster as it continued stomping about in a fatal stupor, chainsword still protruding from its skull. After slamming into a few rockrete walls, the knarloc finally ran out of steam and collapsed into a storage crate, crushing it beneath its massive girth and tossing me into the pile of twisted metal.
"Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time," I groaned to myself. From my spot beneath old boxes and pieces of scrap metal, I could see Cain staggering to the creature's head, pulling his chainsword free in a somewhat dramatic fashion just as guardsmen began to emerge from cover. Had I not witnessed it myself I would scarcely believe that Cain had bested such an opponent. It wouldn't take very long for rumours of Cain's triumph over the giant beast to circulate through all the regiments on the planet, though I don't recall ever hearing any mention of my participation in the event. From what I could gather, Cain had 'saved a helpless citizen' from the terrible creature. Without my coat and hat, I doubt anybody could have recognized me from a distance and with Cain's reputation as a hero it just seemed to make sense to people that I was merely some damsel in distress. I wasn't too bothered to be honest – it was probably better if people didn't know what really happened to me during the ordeal.
With Cain's triumph serving as a tremendous rallying call to the guardsmen, officers and soldiers began pushing even harder against the Tau adversaries. Only after the crowds had dispersed did Cain trudge his way over to the scrap pile I was within and began sifting through it.
"You in there Abel?"
"Down here," I groaned, pushing my hand through the debris for him to take.
"Fine work you did there," Cain complimented once he pulled me free. Honestly, I didn't see why he was complimenting me as I had served as little more than a decoy but I suppose in that respect I did do an admirable job. Of course, being a decoy is easy; it's surviving that's a challenge. Being a gentleman, or perhaps because I was battered and bruised at this point, Cain helped me back down to the rockrete where I promptly collapsed to my knees. With the adrenaline gone, exhaustion took over and I could barely even will myself to get back to my feet, which I think Cain understood as he didn't try to force me up. First battlesuits, then tanks, and now a knarloc…if this is what being a frontline commissar entailed well then I was definitely going to regret my career choice.
"Um…thanks for saving me," I spoke after a long silence, only then realizing that I hadn't thanked the commissar for saving my life.
"All in a day's work," he said modestly, which made me realize that it probably was for him. He had charged in without batting an eye when I was just about ready to fold up my tent and call it a life. If I wanted to be anything even remotely close to him, I had to stop accepting death when it seems to come along. My train of thought was interrupted when I felt something drop onto my head and realized that somebody had just placed my commissarial cap back into place. "Ah Jurgen, glad to see you're okay."
"My apologies commissar, I got a little separated when the tanks started firing," Cain's ever-dutiful aide replied. I thanked him for returning my hat, to which he suggested that I take better care not to lose it in the future. I thought he was being sarcastic at first but as I learned over the years the man appeared to be incapable of giving or receiving it. "Would you care for some tanna commissar?" he asked, taking a thermos from his webbing that I could swear wasn't there a few seconds ago.
"I would love some actually," Cain accepted graciously before turning to me. "Would you care for some as well?"
I stared blankly at the commissar for a few moments, trying to wrap my mind how he could remain so poised before I gave up and let the issue drop before it melted my brain. "Sure…why not?"
Somewhere Jurgen managed to produce a second mug and filled it for me and even though drinking was actually the furthest thing on my mind, I hoped the act alone would be enough to bring my senses back in order. Plus, all the rain and now missing my coat I was bloody cold and treasured the warmth the tanna brought. I was almost finished when somebody started calling for Cain over the vox.
"This is Major Currae of the Cadian 87th Armoured Regiment," he introduced himself. "Now when I heard that the famous Commissar Cain was coming to our aid I wasn't quite sure what to expect. I honestly thought the stories were all a bit over-the-top to be fair. After this, though, I can see why they give you the credit you so rightly deserve. I just have to thank you personally for such a spectacular job you've just done. Really, you've saved us all!"
"We what?" I asked.
"I'm sorry, I think we're not quite on the same page here," Cain added.
"Oh dear, I thought somebody would've told you already," the major apologized. "Well, if it hadn't been for your landing force touching down right on top of that Tau advance we would've have been caught completely off-guard here at the command centre. Thanks to you we were able to bring our guns to bear against the enemy before they could do any damage. Not to mention once they saw you taking down their horrid creature those PDF traitors all turned tail and ran for the hills! You may very well have saved the entire city."
Cain looked about as surprised as I was, though in hindsight I should have realized sooner that I had inadvertently directed Cain's transport to the parks located less than a block away from the PDF garrison that the Cadians had turned into a command centre. Since the major couldn't actually see our expression, Cain's carried on as though he had planned it the entire time.
"Well we knew that securing the command centre would be one of the main objectives for retaking the city, though we hadn't expected to cut it so close," Cain said, not exactly lying but not correcting the major on his inaccurate presumption. I probably would've done the same thing, to be honest.
"If you have a minute, perhaps you and the rest of the senior officers can join me and we can figure out how to kick the rest of these blasted xenos and heretics from our city."
"An excellent idea, what's your position?"
"Oh, about thirty feet to your left and ten feet straight up."
The major probably got a chuckle, standing at a balcony where he could watch as the two of us twisted our heads in the aforementioned direction and saw the Cadian officer waving to us. In all the confusion and 'strategically withdrawing' for our lives, I hadn't noticed that we had made our way right into the garrison's front yard. It would definitely explain why there were so many Cadians surrounding us now.
After Cain offered Jurgen's assistance in helping me back to my feet, I became all the more motivated to get up under my own strength. Even with the rain soaking everything I didn't want to take the chance of having to be in prolonged physical contact with the commissar's aide. I turned, momentarily, back to the corpse of the beast that Cain had fallen and wondered briefly if things were going to get better or worse from there on end.
I should've known better, though, that things had already gotten worse and I just didn't know it yet.