THIRTEEN
The Adeptus Astartes; His Divine Majesty's loyal Space Marines; the Living Weapons of Humanity; His Angels of Death. Regardless of what title is used, the stories about the indomitable space marines are always the same – powerful, fearless warriors that could stand against any foe, survive against any odds, and triumph when all else has failed. Like many citizens of the Imperium, I was raised on such stories that painted the marines as a mythical figure of sorts. As a cadet, I idolized them and saw in them the ultimate personification of the Kriegan principle of 'duty unto death.' Most guardsmen and commissars can go their entire career without ever catching a glimpse of the soldiers of legend. Before Viridis, I imagined that if I were to ever meet a space marine it would be on a battlefield where I would be but one of thousands 'ordinary soldiers' supporting the Astartes. There safely within the confines of my dreams, I would have given anything for the chance to be noticed by them but resigning myself to the realization that the only hope I would have of being noticed would be if one of them had to scrape me from the sole of their boot.
Instead, the Emperor's will had dropped me at the feet of one of His Angels of Death and the only thing running through my head was the hope that he would turn his attention somewhere else. Even with a cursory examination I could see the legion of scars and scorches across his armour. Pot marks from lasers, grenades, and stubber rounds covered his carapace like craters on a battlefield after a full artillery barrage.
Finally, he spoke, his voice hollow and metallic through the vox amplifier in his helmet, "Identify yourself."
It didn't surprise me that he didn't trust me even though I was wearing a commissar's uniform. After having been repelled by the governor's personal army I would not expect any of the Astartes to be in a very trusting mood. And, to be clear, Astartes didn't trust anybody save their chapter and the Emperor. As far as he was concerned, I was another potential enemy.
"I am Commissar Ariel Abel attached to the Valhallan 597th Ice Warriors and I fight in the Emperor's name," I answered with the hope that a firm, resolute tone would be sufficient to convince him of my loyalties. I never found out if my words had convinced him of the truth as more orks started to close in and the Astartes decided upon a better means to test my loyalties. He quickly grabbed me by the collar and hoisted me up to my feet.
"You fight for the Emperor? Prove it," he ordered and readied his bolter. The first ork that burst through the undergrowth was greeted with a lasbolt between the eyes. We made our stand, shoulder-to-shoulder (actually shoulder-to-hip would be more accurate), firing with unerring precision as greenskins poured forth from the jungle like a nightmare from the abyss. Though we cut them down in droves, the orks pressed on undeterred and I quickly found myself gradually taking steps back to keep a comfortable distance from them. My space marine ally, however, did not budge even when the orks were dropping right at his feet. When his bolter ran dry, he quickly grabbed a power axe that hung from his hip and swung it at the first unlucky bastard to get close to him. Power weapons are a rare sight for members of the Imperial Guard but the effects of their disruption field are not easily forgotten. Normally meant for rending through heavy armour, the effect of the disruption field on a fleshy target was…easiest way to describe would be messy. It's like using a bolt gun to open a soup can. The ork wasn't so much as cleaved in half as it was blown apart from within. He parried the strike from the second ork before hacking off its arm and then lodging his axe within the ork's chest. This freed his hand long enough to reload his bolter. He then grabbed his axe once again and fired a round through the ork's head to knock his weapon free as well as showering the vicinity in pulped brain and bone chips.
With a howl of rage, the Astartes did what few sane men would dare to even consider and charged straight for the oncoming ork mob. Red and blue flashes lit up the jungle as cleaved and blasted his way through the orks. I wish I could have had more time to enjoy the splendor of that whirlwind of blood and fury but I had orks trying to hack me apart at the same time. An ork took a swing at my head but thanks to it being so low to the ground I was able to duck under the jagged-edged blade, which became lodged in the tree behind me. Wasting no time, I swiftly drew out my shock maul, thumbed the power dial to maximum, and slammed it into the ork's gut. There was a most satisfying flash and plume of lightning arcs as the ork howled in pain. The electric-induced spasms released a torrent of bullets from the ork's shoota, spraying rounds across the jungle and into several nearby orks. A second blow to the temple put the ork down for good.
I was making good progress through the ork ranks when I heard an unsettling clang ring out from close by. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of movement and ducked just in time as the space marine crashed through the tree next to me. It was never a good sign when you saw the walking tank getting knocked around like a rag doll. What that meant was that we were now dealing with what was commonly known as a nob, or simply put, an even bigger ork. It was as big as it was angry and thick slabs of metal hung from its body in one of the most primitive (and yet still effective) displays of armour I had ever witnessed. Hanging from the slabs of metal were bleached skulls – some human, some ork, and some I didn't recognize. What caught my eye the most, and likely my Astartes ally, was the broken space marine helmet that was part of the trophy collection. The gunfire died down suddenly and when I saw the orks whooping and howling behind the nob, I realized that the marine had been drawn into a kind of duel with the nob. While counter-intuitive, some orks were capable of understanding concepts beyond 'axe goes in head' and could grasp the more subtle nuances of a duel. Or they simply understood that interrupting a duel meant getting an axe in their head, in which case I would retract my previous statement.
While the proposition of a duel with a nob would have left me scrounging for a clean pair of trousers, the space marine appeared just as eager to test his mettle. What he didn't notice, or didn't care about, was that the lull in the fighting meant that more orks were gathering along the peripheries of the undergrowth. While the Astartes was fixated on his duel I was left worrying about the growing mass or orks that would stomp all over me regardless of how the duel ended. I could have just run for it and let the Astartes deal with the mess he seemed so intent on creating but the thought did not sit well with me. A strategic withdrawal I could live with but there was no rationalizing abandoning a comrade-in-arms, even if I thought his actions were completely asinine.
"We don't have time for this!" I shouted in hopes I could reason with the Astartes. It was a long shot but there were few alternatives available.
"I am not leaving until this wretched ork is dead," he snapped back as he readied his power axe.
"And the other hundred orks?"
"They can wait their turn."
I had heard that Astartes could be stubborn but I hadn't imagined it to be quite to such an extreme degree. I needed a second opinion on the matter but when I tried to raise Cain on the vox network I got no response. Either he had his hands full or he was already dead – either way he was of no help to me. Eventually, I got Colonel Kasteen on the line who was surprised and pleased to hear when I explained that I had made contact with a member of the Astartes strike team.
"You need to get him back to headquarters as soon as possible," Kasteen advised. "The Lord General will definitely want a full debrief from him."
"There might be a slight problem with that plan," I said with a sigh.
"What's the problem?"
"He's in the middle of a duel with an ork nob at the moment." As Kasteen, like any Valhallan, had a thorough understand of ork behaviour and combat tactics, she knew immediately the gravity of the situation when I mentioned duel.
"Is he winning?"
At the moment, my space marine ally was getting knocked around the jungle like a 90-pound whelp on a scrumball pitch. The average space marine could take more punishment than a light armoured vehicle but I doubt even his power armour could take more of the nob's assault. Power weapons needed some time to fully charge, which meant every swing took slightly longer than a non-power weapon. Normally such a lapse meant nothing to a fully-armoured space marine but when the opponent swung a two-hundred pound hammer around with the speed and force of a freight train, even a fraction of a second was too long. "He's probably going to be dead in about a minute," I said plainly.
"Then I suggest you do whatever it takes to get that marine back to headquarters." The importance of the Astartes had not eluded me. As far as we were aware, the space marine was the only survivor of the failed strike force that had assaulted the governor's palace. Our battleplans were based upon orbital scans and old architectural documents drudged up from the Administratum. The tactical insight on the capital city's defenses would be invaluable and could potentially save hundreds of lives in our assault. Even when considering the immediate benefits, the mere presence of a space marine would be a huge morale boost for the soldiers. Even though I had no choice, interfering with the duel ran the risk of personally incurring the marine's wrath. It was a daunting thought considering he could squish my head like an overripe fruit with just as much afterthought.
The other problem with interfering with the duel was enraging the orks, which was a far more immediate problem for me. Searching my surroundings for an alternative, I happened upon a rather chubby tree jelly hanging from a nearby branch. Moving quickly, I snatched the furry creature by it tendrils, whipped it a few times over my head, and flung it right for the ork nob. Even the most battle-frenzied warrior is thrown off their game when a splotch of furry amoeba suddenly latches onto their face and starts dry-humping their eyeballs. The nob roared in blinded rage as he grasped for the audacious amoeba, completely defenseless before the space marine. The power axe flashed and crackled like lightning as the marine drove it into the ork's chest, cleaving through the crude plates with ease. Sparks and blood sprayed across the jungle as the ork let out a monstrous bellow. The marine used the axe as leverage to hoist himself upwards and take hold of a shoulder strap. The nob was able to pull the tree jelly loose just in time to see the space marine bring the axe down upon his head. The power field reduced the nob's noggin to an unrecognizable spray of bloody pulp. The crashing body echoed through the jungle, silencing the entire ork mob who were all left staring agape at the victorious space marine now standing on the nob's chest.
"What's the matter? I thought this was the kind of fight you liked! Any of you other degenerate curs want a piece of me?" the Astartes shouted, which left me sighing in dismay. I should have expected that he wouldn't have left well enough alone. He was a hair's breadth away from goading the entire ork mobbing into rushing us.
It took a moment for some of the orks to work up the courage to step forward but the moment that ork moved a laser bolt burnt a path straight through its skull. The shot took me by completely by surprise as I wasn't the one who shot it nor did I hear a shot. The sudden death spurred more orks to act but every time a greenskin made a move another shot found its mark. After about a half-dozen bodies, the orks began to lose their willingness to fight. The last ounce of courage was shed when a full barrage of lasfire pelted the orks and I was finally able to trace the line of fire back to its source.
"Watz!" I exclaimed when I saw my Kriegan companion, along with Kael and the rest of the squad, firing volleys into the ork mob.
"So this is where you ran off to," Kael commented with a smirk. With the nob dead and a renewed offensive by their foes, the remaining orks fled in absolute terror. For a moment, the Astartes almost looked a little disappointed that they left. The feeling, as you could expect, was his and his alone. While Watz and Kael were relieved to see me in one piece, the rest of the squad's attention was focused on the Astartes. A reaction which came as no surprise whatsoever.
"Sergeant Jydais, I'm surprised to see you here too…I didn't realize you cared," I said sarcastically when the man glanced briefly to me.
"Your lackey ran off with the luminator posts. The techrpriests would have my head on a stick if I lost them," he explained though he sounded a bit like he was deflecting the issue.
When Kael took notice of the space marine, he grinned brightly as he usually did. "So who is your lovely new friend here? Ah, I remember my first jungle rendezvous when I was your age. I would never have pictured you as the romantic type Commissar Abel."
I fought down the urge to rebuke him as that would have only encouraged him further. There were more important issues to address, specifically the space marine, who I turned to address. "Okay Astartes, I have three questions for you but I'm willing to bet you can probably already guess what I want to know." They were the obvious questions, the ones that first sprang to mind when you run into a seven-foot high iron giant in the wilderness. Right after of course, am I going to die.
"I am Battle Brother Garrick of the Black Watch chapter," he introduced himself though his tone made it seem that even this simply gesture was taxing his patience. "My squad was ordered to remove the planetary governor in order to restore this world to the Imperium. Sergeant Mercutio allowed his pride to blind his judgement and he led us straight into a killzone. His final order was to regroup in Vertens but the orks have not been making that journey easy. You will take me to your command center; I need to reestablish contact with the Enduring Vigilance."
As blunt as a thunder hammer and just as direct, his mannerisms were everything I had been taught to expect from a space marine. At least he wanted to go to the same place that I was going to insist on taking him.
"Do you know if any more of your squad is nearby?" Kael asked as he kept his eyes scanning through the undergrowth.
"Shamefully, I suspect that I am the only remaining member," Garrick answered, falling silent as he took the broken helmet from the slain ork. "I alone must shoulder the burden of the mission's honour."
"Well you're not alone anymore," I reassured him even though I doubt he thought of me any more than he thought of an automated sentry turret. I was just another tool of the Emperor, which wasn't too far from the truth but it's nice to be considered on a slightly higher pedestal than a socket wrench. "We'll take you back to command but first we're going to need your assistance with extricating the other units that were isolated by the orks outside of the city." Between a vox call and a fight, it was obvious which the Astartes was going to prefer and he was soon following in step along with the rest of the squad. Though not officially ordered to, we headed to Cain's last known position to rescue or recover. I could not reach him on the vox network but there were a number of things aside from 'being dead' that could inhibit communications. Anything from energy fields to being inside an armaplas hut could interfere with the vox signal. I prayed that he was simply too busy to talk.
I suggested using the chimera to shorten our travel but Jydais informed me that it wouldn't be possible as our chimera was having engine troubles, in that there wasn't one anymore. So we were left running through the jungle…again. Kael took point of his own volition, speeding past the entire squad with little difficulty. He ducked and weaved through the undergrowth with such speed and precision you'd swear he knew every inch of it by heart. In fact, if he hadn't needed to keep in sight of us I was certain he would've been moving even faster. The sound of gunfire began to trickle through the undergrowth, subtle thuds and tacks like light raindrops until it became a steady downpour of stubbers and lasguns.
"Contact!" Kael reported, sliding to one knee and snapping a few shots off in one fluid motion.
Our squad fell into position behind the trees, forming a firing line along the right flank of an immobilized tank. Several guardsmen had taken cover behind the tank, including a few wounded, while Cain had taken up position behind the tank's heavy stubber on top of the turret. A third patrol had arrived before us and was already positioned on the tank's left flank. The clearing around the tank was strewn with ork bodies but the charging greenskins were now being pushed back by our addition to the massed gunfire. Garrick, in typical Astartes fashion, rushed straight for the front, trumpeting his arrival with zealous battle cries and bolter fire.
"Never seen a tank like that before," Jydais commented.
"It's a Macharius battle tank, Vanquisher class," Watz explained. "It was the major's vehicle. I thought it would have been fragged like the stormblade."
The Macharius, for the uninitiated, was a heavy battle tank that sat in a weight class intermediate to the baneblade and the Leman Russ. Slightly larger than the Leman Russ but with a chassis more akin to the larger baneblades, the Macharius provided a higher degree of firepower than the former but were far easier to manufacture compared to the latter. The damage to the vehicle was rather light despite the severity of the regiment's last firefight but the left-side treads were shattered, which had led to the crew being pulled from the vehicle and slaughtered.
"Give me covering fire, I'm going over there. Watz – you come with me," I instructed to the sergeant despite my misgivings about trusting my well-being to him. To my surprise, though, his squad did actually provide a degree of suppression fire when my aide and I dashed across the clearing. In hindsight, they could have merely been firing the same as before but at the time it looked as though they had heeded my instructions.
"Commissar Abel, glad to see you could finally join us," Cain shouted from up above. I climbed up the side of the tank and took cover behind the turret just next to the commissar.
"You wouldn't believe the day I've had," I replied. "I'll tell you over a cuppa later but the short of it is I've managed to find an Astartes from the strike team."
"Excellent work; all we've managed to find is this tank."
"Well it is a nice tank, but at least my discovery still works," I teased before putting a shot through an ork that was scaling the side of the tank.
"I wouldn't be too certain of that," Cain informed me before shouting down into the turret, "Jurgen, what's your progress down there?"
"I think I've found the problem, commissar" the dutiful and foul-smelling aide replied, his voice echoing from the depths of the Macharius. "I'm giving the engine another shot." The engine coughed and sputtered a few times but eventually fell silent again followed by a few apologies from the aide. I quickly instructed Watz to lend his technical knowledge to the problem. After a quick shuffling with Cain, my aide was inside and I heard him muttering something about being thankful he was wearing a mask. A couple of minutes later, the same chugging sounds gurgled from the engine before suddenly roaring to life with a belch of black promethium exhaust. A cheer erupted from the nearby guardsmen as the weapon sponsons began spitting heavy bolter rounds into the ork mob. Cain looked quite pleased with himself at this fortunate turn of events.
"Would you care to come inside?" Cain asked.
"I…don't really know much about tanks," I half-lied. At the schola, the basic use and operation of ground vehicles was part of our lessons. It was also a lesson I just barely passed as several of the vehicles were so cramped that they grated on my claustrophobia. The threat of 'death by ork' wasn't high enough to override my apprehensions towards cramped spaces.
"Then could you be a dear and make sure the orks don't try to barge in?" Cain suggested before disappearing into the depths of the vehicle. While being inside the tank was out of the question, sitting at the top behind the heavy stubber was not so I took Cain's former position and vented my frustrations as well as a bunch of orks. Suddenly, the turret lurched to life, swinging to face the ork masses and leaving no doubt as to what was going to happen next. The first of the Macharius' double-barreled vanquisher cannon erupted, blasting a crimon-mist hole out of the ork line.
"Ork nob at 11 o'clock," I shouted to down below. The turret answered by swinging to position and firing its second payload, reducing the nob to a messy pulp across several square meters.
"Abel! Ork tankbusters ahead of you," Kael's voice blasted through my comm-bead. I spotted the aforementioned orks just as a rocket blazed towards me. The instinctive reflex to duck saved my life as the poorly-aimed explosive flew over the tank but missing it so narrowly that I was coughing on the exhaust afterwards. The ork was readying his weapon again but a well-placed shot from a cocky little sniper set off the ordinance, blowing the ork and several of his neighbors into giblets. Though the tank was designed primarily for taking on other armoured vehicles, the sight alone of such a massive vehicle blasting holes through the jungle was enough to break the back of the ork's morale. By targeting the largest ones, Cain and the others inside the tank effectively removed all leadership in the ork mob. By the seventh volley from the vanquisher cannons, the orks were in a complete rout. Most of our guns fell silent, the soldiers simply relieved to see the enemy turning tail at last, save for Garrick who was intent on fighting until there were no orks left to kill. He then proceeded to spend an extra next few minutes making sure the orks remaining were thoroughly dead.
"Splendid work out there men," Cain congratulated as we climbed out of the tank. He turned to me and flashed an equally relieved smile. "Can you believe that somebody just left this lying out here?"
With the enemy routed, we were able to tend to the injured and sent a request in for a pickup. The senior staff were very pleased to hear that Cain had located the Macharius and that it was still partially functional. Repair crews and Trojans were sent later in the day to tow it inside the walls and by the next morning we were able to field the heavy battle tank. It was no stormblade but a Macharius battle tank had the range, armour, and stopping power to go toe-to-toe with the Tau hover tanks. Cain became the hero of the day for his part in reclaiming the Macharius, completely overshadowing my rescue of the space marine.
Not that I am or ever have been bitter about it.
"I wasn't aware that Jurgen knew his way around a vehicle so well," I commented when I saw the aide emerge from the tank. He seemed surprised with the praise but much like Cain he was quite modest towards it and said little more than a quick thanks before offering Cain some tea. I was offered some too but I politely declined as Watz carried his own supply for my use. "You know, it's not too bad out here...minus the smoking craters, chunks of orks, and the smell of burnt propellant," I commented after Watz poured me a cup of recaf. While we waited for the chimeras, I recounted the events of my patrol to Cain, particularly my chance run-in with the Astartes.
"Now that the orks know there's a fight here, they're going to come back, aren't they?" I asked. The better part of me knew the answer to it already but I was reluctant to let go of the faint hope that this would be an isolated incident.
Cain, sadly, shook his head slowly with a long, drawn-out sigh. "The surviving orks will run back to their warboss, who'll then gather up all his troops, and will likely be here in a day or two. The next few days are going to be a very bloody affair."
"Then let them come," Garrick said with the usual Astartes zeal for sanctified murder. "How many regiments do you have deployed?"
"About three full regiments and four at half-strength or less," Cain answered.
"That's it?"
"We had more but even the Emperor's will can't stop the sheer firepower of massed stupidity."
"I'm going to need a lot more bolter rounds then," Garrick said calmly, as if slaughtering his way through the entire ork horde and Tau army was only a minor inconvenience for him. But for an Astartes, there wasn't any problem that couldn't be solved without the liberal application of unrepentant violence.
The arrival of several chimeras was met with much fanfare by the troops. The first two were quickly loaded with the wounded and sent off before we got organized to load into the rest. Garrick didn't enjoy having to cram into the chimera's tight passenger compartment but once he was in they opened the roof hatch for him so he could stand comfortably. We were loading the last of the troops when I noticed that Kael wasn't anywhere to be seen.
"Kael, we're leaving! Where in blazes are you?" I shouted in hopes that he hadn't wandered off. Thankfully, he had merely taken up residence in a nearby tree to keep on watch. The moment I called out he immediately dropped into view. However, as he drew closer he abruptly stopped and stepped back, his face suddenly paler and a slightly sickened look across his face.
"Sweet Emperor! What is that smell?" he exclaimed. Between the orks, the smoking craters, and the tank's engine exhaust, it took me a moment to realize the source of Kael's concern stemmed from Cain's malodourous aide.
"You get used to it," I reassured him. "You can ride in one of the other chimeras." Strangely enough, that didn't do much to help Kael who still didn't move any closer and seemed even more ill than moments before. My patience quickly ran thin. "Come on, you're holding the rest of us up. Suck it up and get moving."
"I think I'm going to be sick," Kael blurted before rushing from sight. I knew from first-hand experience that Jurgen's odour could be quite unsettling to the uninitiated but I had never seen such a violent reaction from somebody, especially at such a distance. Compared to the average person my sense of smell was a bit blunted so I had trouble understanding Kael's situation. Nonetheless, when he ran off and we heard gagging sounds seconds later, I decided to go after him. He was, in the end, my responsibility. I found him a short distance off; leaning against a tree over a pile of what I assumed was once breakfast. He seemed better off now that we was a safe distance from Jurgen but if that was going to be his reaction every time he came near Cain's aide, he was going to be a bigger nuisance than before.
"This is pathetic," I remarked with a hint of contempt. "You call yourself a soldier?"
"No…I don't actually," Kael said between long, deep breaths. "Everyone else does but I never did. I have never even liked being one. I only joined because the feral orks were threatening to overrun everything. Shooting stuff…killing people…almost getting killed…I've never wanted to be a part of that. For Emperor's sake, I make furniture and little statues for tourists! I can barely keep my stomach down when downwind from an ork."
"Is…everything okay?" I asked since his response had come as a bit of a surprise. I knew he had no desire to get involved in our campaign but I was unaware of his general antipathy towards being a soldier in general. I might have construed it as cowardice or an equally punishable offense but it would have reflected badly on me to 'recommended' somebody , then turn around the next day and order his execution.
"This is nothing that doesn't normally come with having to franticly fight for your life," he sighed in response. "I'm just…frustrated. It feels like the more I try to get away from fighting the more it tries to force its way back into my life."
"Well you have a responsibility and an obligation to serve and protect, especially when you have the capacity to do it so well." He must have taken my remarks as a compliment because he smirked initially in response. Or he thought there was something funny about what I said.
"That's exactly what she used to say," he said before shaking his head with a quiet chuckle.
"Is this the part where you make a long-winded confession about your childhood sweetheart who went off to war and died on the frontlines?" I jived since I was still feeling impatient and had little time for sob stories. Half the soldiers in the Imperial Guard had similar tales to share and almost everybody in the 597th had a relation with somebody else in the regiment at one point or another. The sentiment was universal and I disliked how some thought it made them special.
"Noooo," Kael insisted, sounding more like his usual, arrogant self. "For starters it was my wife. Secondly…I lost her to war long before she was killed. It's one thing to watch somebody you love die suddenly on the field, it's another to watch them die slowly over the years…but that's another story for another day. So yes, woe is me – I don't like being a soldier because I loved and lost one. It's not very original, I know, but it's my reason and I'm sticking to it."
"Well as long as you're not trying to win sympathy from me or anything."
"Sympathy? From a commissar? I'd have more hope of getting lucky on a first date with an orkette, or whatever they're called. You know what I mean."
By the time we returned to the chimera, Cain and his aide had already left. It was a good thing too since I had no interest in cleaning puke off my boots. My ride back into the city was quiet due my thoughts lingering on Kael. I mulled over Kael's words for a long time. It did not make sense for a man to be such a skilled soldier and yet have such a thorough distaste for it. Yes he was a good shot and scout from his years of hunting and skulking through the jungle but that didn't explain how he could handle himself so calmly in the heat of a full-blown ork attack. That level of discipline only came from intense training and a person didn't dedicate that many years of training to something they hated. He was hiding something from me, that much was obvious, but why...