-5-
Lieutenant Rigel Hauser clutched his las pistol tight to his chest. His eyes were screwed tight shut at the cacophony of war that beat about his head and his knuckles white. He was battered, bruised and covered in cuts and scrapes. His left eye was puffy and covered by a black welt and he'd lost his cap of office. They were either side of the battered gates leading into Kazon Hive, the majesty of the carved monument reduced to scraps of torn bronze and cracked adamantium. He opened his eyes, letting his bleary vision clear as tears washed grit and grime from them, leaving twin streaks in the dirt crusting his cheeks. He turned his head, aware someone was shouting at him from his left, but his eyes fixed upon the face staring at him from the other side of the gates. Directly opposite was Lieutenant Eric van Duborg, his own haunted eyes reflecting those of Hauser. Both officers gripped their las pistols and chainswords like life lines, as if they were the anchor point to keep them from slipping into madness. The shouting came again, sounding all the world like screaming under water, muffled and dull. Eric van Duborg nodded to Hauser and it seemed to bring the world back into clarity, the shouting suddenly booming right beside Rigels ear.
"Sir! Do we have the order to open the gate?"
Hauser pushed his shoulders into the reassuring bulk of the rockrete wall behind him and faced the Sergeant addressing him. He took in the mans features, reminiscent of the mastiffs kept in the officers mess, the cold eyes hard from things he'd seen. Hauser nodded and turned back to the gigantic gate before him, revving his chain blade to cycle the engine housed in the hilt. The Sergeant shouted, his voice echoing across the rubble strew courtyard the two platoons were spread across, a loud horn bleating out into the smoke in response. Giant cogs began to grind deep in the safety of the wall and the gate shuddered, a hail of dust clouding down onto the men below.
"See you back here, Hauser, you still owe me a shot of Udol!"
Hauser twitched as van Duborg called across to him over the grinding noise of the gate. He would damn the shot and just down the bottle when they returned, if, they returned. Their orders from Major Kharloff was to cover the retreat of the Space Marines until they were within the walls of the Hive city. Hauser had watched from the battlements just how effective the Emperors Finest were, each super human Marine a powerhouse of war. He had seen fire power poured into them that would have killed a man ten times over, only to shrug it off and continue on. Their engines of war were fearsome and it made the heart quiver to watch the giants in yellow armour stride amongst the enemy. They all knew the Astartes were coming to break their siege but they just didn't understand the magnitude of how it'd be broken.
It was truly inspiring to know that these Angels of the Emperor were here to save them. Hauser didn't know how much longer he could kept his humours intact. He had lost count of how many men he'd shot in the face or cloven in twain with his blade over the last few months. It haunted him and what little sleep he could manage was plagued by horrific nightmares. He was breaking, fraying around the edges and he knew it, but he had to be strong. He had to lead his men once more into the teeth of the enemy.
The gate stopped, its mechanisms forcing it into a locked position, the sound echoing like a thunder clap that reverberated around the wide plaza. There was a moment of silence before the storm began, engines, impossibly huge, rumbled into life. Grinding tracks squealed as they crushed chunks of masonry beneath their aquilla studded plates. The Astartes war machines began to advance. The Lance of Perdition consisted of three elements, but only two of the vehicles had been deployed surface side by the Thunderhawk gunship, Perdition. The two Predator pattern tanks turned into the gate, thundering through the smoke and out into the blood crusted battle beyond. Hauser was cloaked in shadow as the gargantuan tanks thundered past, his head hurt at the sheer scale of these mobile weapon platforms. He had always admired the bulk of the Leman Russ tank the Hive Manufactorums produced but the Astartes had brought an entire new level of warfare with them.
The two Predators opened fire, the sound like a battle Titan stomping its feet. The auto-cannon fired in controlled bursts sending high caliber death into the horde, exploding the ground and sending men squealing through the air. Las cannon sponsons split the air with blinding flashes of light, enemy tanks popping like over ripe fruit under the hail of hard light. Hauser raised his chain blade high above his head and swept the weapon in an arc, his voice roaring out into the press of noise and men. An echoing roar erupted from Platoon van Duborg and the Guard ran to war. Las bolts sliced the air, hammering men from their feet, grenade launchers coughed explosives high into the air. Bolters stitched through the fog of war, bright streaks of white amongst the thin beams of red, orange and green. The firing line of Astartes appeared first as the Lance of Perdition rumbled off into the smog of battle. Hauser stumbled as the behemoths casually strode backwards, firing from the hip with their utterly destructive weapons. Bright flares of blue flashed out of the end of giant muzzles, sending rippling balls of energy that looked like liquid caught into a ball. Hauser stood still as his men rushed past him and between the giant Astartes. Men fell to their deaths around him, men he'd shouted out over minor infractions had limbs shorn from their bodies. Men who were so full of smiles and laughter in the barrack mess were grim featured as they mercilessly gunned down fellow Kolstroms.
One of the giants reared up before him, the Marine encompassing his entire line of sight. A las bolt sparked off the huge shoulder plates of the Astartes and Hauser couldn't help but be held like a mouse before a Carnodon by the expressionless helm that stared at him. He knew there was a man inside that armour, but for all the world about him he couldn't fathom it in that moment. Everything seemed to slow down as the giant turned its studded helm, the red stripe down the crest of the helmet taking another las bolt on it that snapped the helm to the left. The giant lifted its weapon, blue coils glowing with blinding intensity, leaving white spots upon Hausers vision. The discharge of the weapon caused him to turn away with a yelp, the heat flashing the first layer of skin from his nose and cheeks. He opened his eyes to see the giant striding past him, the helm turned ever so slightly to stare the Lieutenant into the ground.
A bolt round struck the earth beside him and sent a shard of heated shrapnel into the side of his flak vest. Hauser stumbled under the impact and cursed, bringing his head up in time to see a crazed guardsman rush him. The man wore the Kolstrom blue uniform, but it was ripped, ragged, torn and filthy. His armour had been hastily painted red instead of its matt black finish and a red star made of a mess tin jutted up from his helm. His eyes were wild, his pupils so large there was almost no colour. They were the eyes of a man who'd seen too much and could never forget. The bayonet on his autorifle was rusted and bent but that made it no less deadly. Hauser finally snapped out of his sluggish reverie and screwed his face into a sneer of hatred. He slashed at the man with his chain blade, the sword roaring as it ground down into the enemy weapon. Sparks flew and Hauser kicked the mans shin, causing him to howl in pain. With a thrust he shoved the damned guard away from him and snapped his pistol up, gunning the man to the mud in a flurry of shots that punched searing holes into his chest. A second traitor ran at him from the right, an unintelligible scream upon his lips. Hauser raised his side arm and snapped three shots at the man, the first streaked past his head, the second seared an ear from the side of his head and the third was countered by the mans flak armour. Rigel grunted as the man collided with him, knocking him to the ground. It suddenly became a struggle as the man tried to plunge a combat knife down into Hausers face. Using his chainsword as a brace he pushed back at the man, knowing he had only seconds before he was over powered. He felt about for the activation stud and clenched it, sending the ripping teeth of the blade into a whir of action. Blood sprayed as the mans forearms were shredded. He reeled backwards, screaming to the sky above as his hands flopped uselessly before him. Hauser kicked away from the site of the struggle and scrambled to his feet. He raised his sword above his head just as the man before him exploded in a welter of gore.
Hauser blinked blood from his eyes and shuddered as he spat brain matter and hair from his lips. Sprinting out of the rolling smoke before him came seven hulking Marines, all adorned with a variet of weaponry. He watched one of them thunder a crackling fist of claws into the chest of a traitor, the man spasming as flashing arc of electricity enveloped him. The ground shuddered as from out of the smoke the legendary form of an Astartes Dreadnought came forth, flanked by the Lance of Perdition. The amount of fire power that poured forth from the heavy vehicles caused him to stop breathing for a moment, utterly awe struck by the wave of armour striding and rolling towards and past him. One of the Space Marines turned to Hauser, the black stripe down the front of his beaked helmet stark against the yellow of the armour. One giant hand came forward and grabbed Hausers flak vest and with a scream he was hauled bodily from the ground. He felt weightless as the behemoth sprinted towards the walls, clutching him in one hand, firing his immense bolter with the other. Hauser was thrust around like a rag doll but the anchoring strength of the Marine threatened to send more cracks along his already fractured psyche. Suddenly he was passing through the curtain wall, as if his charge hadn't carried him almost a hundred meters from the safety of the gates. With stark clarity he realized he had been the last of his platoon to be out there fighting, absorbed entirely by the fighting he hadn't heard Platoon van Deboug retreating. The armoured vehicles rumbled through the gate, crushing rubble and popping bodies in splatters of red across the dusty flag stones of the courtyard.
Hauser was unceremoniously dumped onto the stone, the breath knocked out of him. The Marine who had carried him turned and simply marched away, the towering warrior ignoring him. Hauser scrabbled onto his front and stared about him at the remains of the two Guard platoons and the giants that strode amongst them. A keening noise filled the air, immediately followed by a symphony of roars and he flung his head about to locate the source of the sudden noise. Armoured forms came down upon blazing pillars of fire, having leapt between the gap of the wall and the void pylons using jet packs. Hauser's jaw all but dropped as the eight marines slammed home, cracking the stone beneath them with boots and knees, one even rolling over end. His forehead creased as his jaw hardened, the sight of these Marines was intimidating in its entirety. The giants milled about, coming together in a rabble, evidently laughing inside their armour from their movements. Hands slapped shoulder guards and one even re-enacted some previous feat of bravery for his squad mates. One of them sauntered away from the group, vicious blood stained teeth curving up his beaked helm, heads hanging from chains around his waist, some of them dripping gore in staggered line behind him.
Hauser felt a hand upon his arm and snapped his head round to see Eric above him, just as pale faced as he was. He allowed van Dubourg to help him to his feet. Both of them holding eachother for reassurance as the Marines seemed to instinctively move away from the Defence forces. Hauser and van Dubourg shared a glance, their eyes locking, they studied eachothers boyish features and neither of them could help the tears that welled within their eyes. As the gates clanged shut, the thud echoing out across the courtyard, both officers knew they weren't free of the fighting, if anything with the arrival of the Astartes, it was about to get a whole lot worse. Hauser spared a glance for the men around him, some of them standing in awe of the Marines, others staring into the distance with blank looks. Others cried, a few lounged against eachother, he spied a man cleaning his weapon furiously despite being covered from head to foot in gory mud. Hauser took a shuddering breath and nodded to himself. They had survived one more day in defence of the Hive and that was enough to make his fourteen year old heart to fill with pride.