Sebastian opened his eyes. But he knew immediately that something was wrong. An inexplicable feeling deep in his soul. This wasn't just another dream or nightmare. It never had been since he'd been here.
He opened his eyes to see a huge table at which he was seated. In the middle of a gigantic palace of black stone and incomparably luxurious tapestries whose violet colors reflected a strange light. On the table before him was a gigantic banquet stretching as far as the eye could see. Food that took him back to his childhood, with the same smell as his father's dishes, or those he'd eaten at the fortress, some of which had no place in Earth food and which he'd never thought he'd see again in this galaxy. Next to each dish were his favorite spirits and those he'd always wanted to try. Everywhere he looked, he could see vintage wines from the best years, barrels of the finest meads, the scent of which reached his nostrils. He could even perceive a bottle of black liquid that he could identify as mandrake liqueur.
He was free. He felt hungry and thirsty. He could have thrown himself on the banquet.
He should have done it.
But he didn't.
There was no one in the palace. And yet he spoke aloud.
Sebastian: He survived forty days and forty nights without bread or water.
He was no longer hungry or thirsty.
?: You hang on to those words... like a mantra.
The voice echoed throughout the palace. The strange dancing lights.
This voice was nothing like a voice. Like a symphony, or a siren's song, hearing it could make you think all the world's ills were soothed, and like a hook it called.
?: This god has been dead for thousands of years... And yet you cling to him like a mollusk to its rock...
Sebastian: It's not his existence that makes me strong, but my faith in spite of everything.
?: You betrayed his son.
Sebastian: And I would die with that sin.
This time he heard the voice clearly behind his back, as well as the soft sound of footsteps. Similar to those of a skilled dancer. Then he felt a breath on the back of his neck, making his skin tingle with pleasure and giving him goose bumps. Darkness invaded his eyes as he felt the person blow through his hair, before he quickly found himself elsewhere.
When his senses returned to him, he felt a gentle, almost intoxicating warmth beating down his back. And this despite the fact that he was completely naked. He was lying on an almost endless ocean of pillows, cushions and blankets of crimson silk and satin with golden embroidery. Fruity, bestial smells invaded his nostrils, intoxicating him.
The view was the most important, however. For before him stretched a veritable sea of debauchery, one naked woman after another joining in this ocean of lust, many of whom he recognized. Some he had known, some he had loved, some he had desired, some he simply enjoyed. Rare ones he'd never seen, but all of them were magnificent, compiling and displaying his most particular preferences, from the most beautiful woman mankind could conceive, to those who were anything but human. All looked at him with pleasure and a desire bordering on despair. Each putting herself forward, slightly camouflaging herself at the same time. Pleasing each other alone, or with others, kissing, tongues like paintbrushes on this carnal fresco, moaning and sweet words of pleasure like an orchestra of nature.
In the middle of all this was Captain Creed in particular, another figure he recognized, more metallic than human in texture, but still in appearance, and as the centerpiece the matriarch he barely knew, perhaps the most forward than the others in her demonstration of desire.
Sebastian: That's a cheap fucking trick...
He felt soft hands against him, a familiar, all-too-familiar yet alien presence. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, restraining all his most bestial instincts to avoid ravaging each and every one of these women. He clung again to his faith.
Sebastian: Love and passion are sweet companions. But none of them have any value if they're obtained without trial.
Her eyes reopened to the real harem at her disposal. All desire absent from them.
The hands on his skin became more and more familiar, until he recognized being embraced on the back by another naked woman. A warmth he couldn't forget, so familiar was it.
?: The more you resist me, the more I love you. But you know that resistance is useless... Everyone gives in eventually...
His throat knotted at hearing that voice, which he hadn't heard for a thousand lifetimes. Hands caressed him in a comforting but equally exciting way.
Sebastian: Well, I'll be the first not to give in.
The figure in her arms slithered along her skin with the abominable slowness of a snake, before revealing itself. It was yet another woman, with matte, sun-kissed skin, straight brown hair tied back in a ponytail, large hazel eyes, and freckles beneath them. His heart froze as he recognized her and his fingers caressed the giant's face.
Many might have found her beautiful, but not nearly as beautiful as any of the other women before him. But for him, it didn't matter, because right in front of him was the first woman he'd ever loved. She looked at him with the same smile. He spoke with the same voice.
?: You can give in today... Allow yourself a singular folly. A gift to yourself. To allow yourself a single moment of respite and joy in the midst of a cold, implacable universe.
She brought her lips to his. He'd missed her so much, through space and time, he'd never really felt the wound in his heart close.
?: I love you.
It was worse than a bullet to the heart.
Their foreheads were pressed together, their gazes drowning in each other. His heart clenched as he closed his eyes and brought his lips to hers.
Katja's voice had always soothed her in her worst moments, when he'd revealed his age to her, when they'd watched the announcement of the declaration of war together.
Sebastian: No...
He summoned all his willpower. And opened his eyes again.
His arm rose, pulling the young woman away from him.
He wouldn't give in. Not to them.
Not now, not ever.
Sebastian: Katja died that day in Grozny... I saw her get out of the armored car in first gear... I saw her take that sniper shot. I saw her die in my arms! The light leaving her eyes as I held her! She's dead, because of me, and nothing and no one can ever bring her back!
He had mourned.
His eyes burned with rage.
Sebastian: I desire neither wealth, nor sustenance, nor pulpit, nor adoration, nor fulfillment, nor even respite!
Her will was strong. Stronger than anyone else in the world.
Sebastian: I've sworn to fight for mankind for all eternity!
He looked her straight in the eye.
Sebastian: Nothing you can offer me will tempt me, demon. I deny you.
All the love that Katja's face possessed vanished, as did everything around it. Quickly revealing the true appearance of his surroundings, a palace of decadence, where all excess mingled in a cohort he began to hate as soon as he laid eyes on it.
But more importantly, the person glued to him revealed his true colors and appearance, as if he'd always had it.
Slaanesh pic.
Violet eyes stared straight into his. Eyes that would have sent civilizations and entire worlds into a frenzy. But Sebastian was looking at them, his emeralds filled with defiance. And despite the demon's divinity in front of him, despite its power enough to search every nook and cranny of his memory, and deceive his eyes and senses, he kept his curses.
The curse of conaissance. He'd understand every language, and only see what's really there.
And what he saw there was a desperate, thirsty being, knowing full well that more of these pawns would soon be eliminated. And that the best card she could get in this great game was unattainable.
Sebastian: You'll never win. And I'm going to make your dear little insect worshippers of fucking patée.
Creed: Sir!
The giant jolted awake, almost falling out of his bunk and recalling his earliest memories of the army. He was in his personal room, in the Kasr, his gaze resting on the captain who was already ready for battle, standing in the doorway.
With his head in the mist, the giant answered.
Sebastian: Captain...
Creed: You forgot to set an alarm, my lord?
She already knew the answer, which is why she didn't seem too amused.
Sebastian: I don't have any in my suitcase.
Thanks to her Psykers skills, she could feel the state of agitation in his mind, as well as the rapidly disappearing trace of chaos and the Prince of Darkness lurking beneath.
Creed: Did I get you out of the nightmare?
Sebastian: Yeah... The slut knows we're coming and is still trying to get me in her pocket... How about you?
Creed: It was last night. Better than at home.
Sebastian: Does your husband snore?
He allowed himself the joke, knowing full well that his soldiers' nightmares were linked to the proximity of the Eye of Terror, unlike his own.
Creed: Like a locomotive.
Sebastian: That's something...
Creed: The men are almost ready to leave.
Sebastian: Give me ten minutes.
She saluted and turned around, the giant rising from his bed.
The war had no end. Taking an express shower, the secret of which only the army (and freezing water) had taught him, the giant donned his armor suit, the nanofibers and hydrostatic fluids enveloping him in a comfortable cocoon. He cursed the dark gods who were after him.
Nightmares were nothing foreign to him. Anyone who had seen everything in his existence would have them too. But nightmares didn't normally appear when he had someone to hug in his sleep.
Not there. Because as soon as he closed his eyes, he had four imps ready to mess with him.
Finishing putting on his armor, the colossus took hold of his helmet, looking at the visor.
He'd kill them all. And then, at last, he could spend the night in peace.
He put on his helmet, hearing the satisfying sound of pressurization and watching his ATH come to life.
The death of gods will come. But today he had a battle to win.
The matriarch of the space wolves stepped forward through the crowd of astartes who were moving aside to let her pass. All the troops were gathered outside, on what appeared to be the fortress vehicle zone, many stormbird astartes having landed on the expanse of concrete and tar, giving the matriarch the opportunity to observe the various armored weapons of the Cajuns. Everything they flew looked far more refined, if more fragile, than the imperial machines. With graceful shapes perfected for atmospheric combat and cockpits that let you enjoy a great view.
Their terrestrial machines, on the other hand, were marvelous. The Astartes hadn't deployed any land vehicles to help her compare, but after a moment's thought, there wasn't even much to compare. She could spot four types of vehicle, all painted the same khaki and grey.
She marveled at these creations of war. She had always found her clan's longships boring in a way, knowing full well that there was something far more interesting out there.
What she imagined to be artillery platforms were the ones that most resembled real tanks, possessing four independent tracks, two on each side, but a low cab connecting the four tracks was topped by a heavy cannon that was nonetheless quite strange. It appeared to be split in two, with rings running through the weapon instead of a real cannon. The matriarch recalled having seen similar weapons on xenos platforms.
The other type of machine resembled a troop transport, yet was so narrow that she wasn't sure a single astartes could fit inside. The troop transport, though armored, was small and equipped with six large wheels and a few small weapons mounted on the sides and top. More for defense than anything else.
The lightest vehicles in their collection had four wheels and looked so light and fragile that the matriarch had no doubt that even a Cajun could have turned one around on his own. They seemed to be able to accommodate one person, a passenger and someone to operate the rear-mounted turret.
She thought it almost ridiculous to bring such a vehicle to a place of war, given that it offered no protection.
But the vehicle that caught her eye the most was unlike anything she'd ever seen, one of those walking right in front of her.
Yes, walking.
This war machine was a quadrupedal chariot, rising above her own height, more imposing than any other Cajun machine or dreadnought. The machine's heavy, sturdy appearance was almost akin to the imperial knights the matriarch had learned were glorified agricultural machines.
But these were made for war... The heavy machine had like a carapace on its back, which moved with every step and which she could see was made to move even more. A large cannon seemed to be its main weapon, along with several turrets mounted on the vehicle.
Apparently it was also a popular means of transport for the slightly lazy soldiers who sat on the machine's hull as it moved along.
The Cajun soldiers, who looked alike but had hitherto been noisy, fell silent, drawing attention to what they were all looking at. The matriarch's height enabled her to see over the soldiers to the soldier leader. He leapt to the top of one of the tracked tanks and used it as a platform. His helmet not on his head, but in his hand. He looked up at his soldiers, emerald eyes burning with ardor.
Sebastian: Listen up, everyone! Today is an important day and we have no right to make mistakes! We'll serve as bait to draw the xenos forces out of the hive and as a wall for the astartes to crush the insects against us!
He said with a big smile, deserving of his soldiers' smiles, but it wasn't enough...
Sebastian: Ten Kasrkin squads will be deployed at the same time as the astartes! And there's no way you're getting in their way!
All at once, dozens of different soldiers stiffened. These were different because they were already in formation, arranged to the millimeter, and had remained motionless in a discipline that would have reminded Freya Russ of custodes.
The armor they wore was heavier, their helmets hiding their faces.
Sebastian: Today is of the utmost importance, not for the soon to be defeat of our enemies, but because today is a demonstration ! Today we will show and prove who we are to the empress and her warriors!
He looked at Freya.
Sebastian: I want you all to give the best of what you have today! To scream, to fight, to run until your very last breath! You will not fight because I asked of you! But to show that the stars are rightfully ours! And the cadians will be there to tread the path towards them! Non cede malis !
His words and eyes kept inside of them flames that seemed ready to set the whole galaxy ablaze. As the matriarch lost herself in those eyes, she felt her whole existence shiver.
For the man who was not a primarch, the man who was but a speck of dust in the grand scheme of things,
Soldiers: Non titubare!
The soldiers screamed as if they were but one, and the matriarch found herself desiring to yell out too. For a single moment she thought that it would be due to her relative youth and eagerness, but soon realized that the vilka fenryka howled for battle too.
And that is where she understood the shiver. For this man, who was just that.
But a man.
Was a single candlelight in the seas of darkness.
And yet, he burned so hot that he threatened to set the seas ablaze.
He was but the candlelight, that stood out in the deepest of darkness. The one that people could rally under.
The empress stood as a lighthouse on the shores of a safe home.
But he stood to lead in the deepest and faraway of waters.
Battle was all that there was in the minds as officers began to bark out orders and soldiers climbing up in diverse vehicles, the giant even climbing aboard one of those small wheeled engines. The hearts were thundering like war drums, the matriarch climbed above her personal stormbird and as it took off she tried to cool down for the encroaching battle.
But she couldn't.
A smile crept upon her face, fire filling the veins of her astartes seeing it.
That bastard really managed to set a fire within her soul. May it be with his words the night prior or those of this morning.
She would try to make him one of her advisors, even if he couldn't become an astartes.
Outside of the stormbird, on the mud of the planet, the giant put on his helmet and got his hands on the steering wheel of the vehicle as he took the place in the tip of the spear all the vehicles were forming behind him. And then, he took off, an army in his wake.
Quinze, Magnus, Fille, Esclave, Outil, Espoir, Batterie, Architecte, Menteuse, Traîtresse, Gâchis.
A billion thoughts were running through the mind of the empress of humanity at once. And what could be more normal? It had been three years since she had joined one of the matriarchs. And now she was finally approaching one of the most important.
Of course, the tools of his creation all had their uses. Generals, executioners, vigilantes, hunters, craftsmen. And all in duplicate, just to make sure the loss of one didn't cripple his Imperium.
But it was Fifteen who would be the hope on which humanity as a whole would rest. For it was Fifteen who was destined to sit on the golden throne and maintain the imperial web.
All the more so as eleven were still to be found...
Fifteen was different, propelled into a quiet region, their spirits had been able to touch. But Eleven's presence was invisible to her.
Then fifteen would do...
The Empress stopped hiding these thoughts deep inside, her mind surfing on the currents of the warp directing the Bucephalus for the little distance she had left to travel.
For her, the few hours were a blink of an eye before the battle barge cracked reality to enter the materium, soon arriving in Prospero's orbit. The antigravity engines kicked in to counterbalance any damage the Bucephalus' mass might cause to the world's orbit.
The Empress, dressed all in gold, rose from her throne on the deck of the ship, and with a flash of lightning was teleported to the surface of this world. When the light faded, she found herself facing an almost human tide of mutants and psykers.
Their weak minds desperately try to assert their dominance over the empress of humanity. Their onslaught is nothing more than a shower of soap bubbles thrown in her face.
But it wasn't really pleasant.
Empress: Kneel down.
Words spoken as much by her mind as by her lips. And before her, the human tide was shortened by a few centimetres as all knelt.
She had arrived at the top of an immense pyramid, like those of her youth, where hundreds of mutants had apparently been waiting for her. And as her mind wandered over the planet's surface, she realized that healthy humans were rare.
Empress: I'm a mother looking for her daughter. Champion among men, without equal. Perfect creation of a noble craftsman whose spirit stands at the top of this world. where is she?
Suddenly, a figure appeared in front of the Empress, ceasing to conceal herself. An overwhelming psychic presence was felt.
Quinze appeared in front of his mother.
A giantess, even among matriarchs, with skin as red as the clay from which she had been fashioned, imbued with biomancy, but always respecting the shape given to her by her creator.
Magna pic
Creator and creature came face to face.
Empress: Magna.
That was the name she'd given her when she was just an embryo in his vat.
All his hopes rested on her.
A wise but playful smile appeared on the matriarch's lips.
Magna: Mother. It's a pleasure to finally meet you.
A wisdom, a curiosity and a passion for knowledge designed to be infinite.
Memories came flooding back of the old card game and divination.
For in front of her was The Magician.
The sound of the engine lulled the giant's ears, and he soon sighed as he looked at the vehicle's dashboard. More precisely, what was between the driver and the passenger.
Visibility was better than the day before... Extending to around 3km, but the planet still seemed to be covered in mist.
Sebastian: I thought these things could play music...
The man on the passenger side turned to the senior officer.
Carter: It would add unnecessary components, sir...
Major Jones Carter was one of the few officers on the battlefield at all times. He was often called upon to help with logistics. But above all, among the twenty-five commanders of the five battalions that made up the First Cajun Army. (His little darlings), Major Carter was one of the most competent.
Sebastian: No need, Commander? We're bored to death, so a little music wouldn't hurt...
The colossus turned his gaze to the gunner at the rear of the vehicle.
Sebastian: Sergeant, can you sing?
Sergeant: Like a hare, sir.
Sergeant Gunner Whitney Adams. A young woman with a bad temper, if reports are to be believed.
The colossus opened his radio, leaving one of his hands resting nonchalantly on the steering wheel.
Sebastian: This is Castellan, so expect things to heat up as soon as we're out of the canyon. We'll return to our usual formation as soon as we come under fire.
The top brass responded to what was a general message. Before he reopened his radio on the general channel.
Sebastian: Oh, I forgot, is there anyone here who can sing?
All quiet except for a slight laugh from the sergeant in the turret behind.
Sebastian: Don't be shy, nobody likes this dead silence.
He sighed, getting no reply, the companions in the vehicle laughing lightly at Lord Castellan's strangeness.
Sebastian: Don't we have admech members who can broadcast music over the airwaves?
Immediately the voice of a mechanical priest was heard. For even if they couldn't and wouldn't sing, their professionalism compelled them to respond.
Priest: That would go against all protocols, my lord.
Sebastian: All right then, dead silence...
His gaze darted upwards to see one of the stormbirds high in the sky. The one containing the matriarch.
Freya Russ still didn't understand how Cajuns could be so professional, or at other times the buffoons they were.
That said, it made a good distraction...
The colossus tapped on the steering wheel, silently, before murmuring.
Sebastian: We get it on most every night... And when that old moon gets so big and bright...
The commander began to sing too.
Carter: It's a supernatural delight, everybody was dancing in the moonlight.
He didn't whisper, unlike the giant, but neither did he sing aloud. His gaze directed towards the horizon.
There was a slight silence for a moment.
Then the vehicle's three passengers began to sing along.
But when it came time to sing the chorus...
Soldier: Sir, you left your radio on.
Immediately, a deathly silence returned. The humiliated colossus knew full well that everyone in the area had heard him sing.
Firehead: Their songs are very strange, don't you think, my queen?
Freya: They're not sagas, that's for sure.
Once the deathly silence had returned, and the joy had been dispelled, the dread could only mount. Adrenalin pumping through Cajun hearts as the battle approached, the wheels and legs of vehicles crunching the pebbles and sand of the canyon they were crossing. The sun or the sky once again hidden by thick clouds. The spearhead was about to emerge from the canyon. The first step of the battle was sounding. The vehicle at the tip of the spearhead fired a red flare, quickly followed by many other vehicles.
Sebastian: Come on guys! Let them know we're coming!
The matriarch frowned slightly as she watched the rocket cloud from a screen in her aircraft. She hadn't read the whole strategic briefing...
Reading was not something she enjoyed... Why did they decide to lose their element of surprise?
The few Astartes and Cajun bombers joined forces in a joint assault as the Xeno fortress came into view. A kind of star filled with defenses, with a large industrial zone at its center. Dotted with large, flat metal dots. As a Xeno force gathered to the south of the fortress, in the direction of the canyon's exit.
The xenos began to move out to meet the spearhead, but just as soon the bombardment began. Missiles and rockets destroyed turrets, artillery and flak batteries, and a few incendiary bombs were dropped on the xenos' backs, forcing them out of the fortress altogether.
This is how the matriarch was able to understand the first stage of the strategy.
The Cajuns had signalled to land, so that the xenos could assemble and prepare for a counter-attack, but to catch them unawares while they were preparing.
If she had to compare it to a fight, the castellan had used a feint to surprise his opponent in the middle of a move with devastating effect.
And the shock and surprise of the first shots from Cajun weapons on the ground were all the more devastating.
His devastating feint was followed by a sequence that left no room for respite.
Freya, the queen in all but name, lacked experience, and she knew it. And although she had shown herself to be a far better fighter than the colossus, he had only just proved himself to be a far better strategist. Despite her usual pride, the big she-wolf was faced with a little humility.
Astartes aircraft began to shake and twirl, their approach fast approaching. Laughter, chants, hands clutching weapons, helmets screwed on heads.
The matriarch, seeing her device's lights come on, began to howl, the rest of her pack quickly following suit. Denying her helmet, she stood up, forced to bend over in the stormbird's enclosure, and headed for the ramp, which lowered into the air.
His blue gaze rested for a moment on the battle below, watching the vehicles come to a halt, the large tanks on legs deploying armor of sorts in front of them, skimming the ground. And the infantrymen, like little ants, emerged from the troop transports to take shelter under the walkers and behind their protection. As for the lighter vehicles, they zigzagged between the allied lines, the fire they poured down on the enemy more designed to harass than to cause real damage. Attracting xenos fire, their mobility ensured the safety of their crews.
The enemy charge had already begun, so they would be the anvil on which the enemy would crush itself.
As the wind blew, a voice rose in his vox cannel.
Sebastian: My matriarch, the bomb will be dropped as soon as you've secured the main well. Good luck.
A smile could almost have appeared on her lips. It was nice not to have to worry about a whole side of the battle...
Freya: May the father of all things be with you and your pack.
Sebastian: Thanks mda- *boom*
Her eyes could see one of the light vehicles being propelled by an explosion through the air before crashing heavily to the ground. She was sure it wouldn't stop.
One step forward, and the wolf queen leapt into the air.
Ah shit...
His head was buzzing, his suit having taken the brunt of the explosion, and he slowly got to his feet, before looking back to where he was, behind a small rock that had protected him from the hazardous fire. He spoke into the radio;
Sebastian: Carter, Adams, still alive?
Carter: Operational, sir.
Sergeant: Wounded, but still able to fight sir.
His eyes swept over the battlefield, his gaze settling on the allied iffs of his ATH, the commander behind the carcass of their Razorback, the gunner having been dragged under a Pontifar to be tended by a medic.
A few shrapnel and bullets flew around him, one of which might have hit him if it hadn't been for his energy shield, which deflected the attack. At least his shield had held.
Then he quickly looked up at the aircraft circling above the fortress, and a figure falling from a stormbird. With his senses, the colossus could clearly see the matriarch throwing herself into battle.
At least one would have fun.
He put the little boy on his shoulder and began firing at the enemy before rejoining his men. A battle awaited him.
The ground shattered under the weight of the ceramite from which the matriarch's armor was made, and the concrete and xenos structures gave way all around her. She now found herself in the xeno city, in the middle of tubes and technological constructions, like an insect in the middle of an organ.
Hating it, she screamed again, before the few members of the jumpacks-equipped rout joined her on the ground. Despite the noise of the chaos and the machines, her senses couldn't lose the sound and smell of the infamous aliens approaching. And she wouldn't give them time to take her and her company by surprise.
Her weapons clutched in her hands, she hurled herself forward like a bulldozer, reducing the infinite labyrinth of machines and pipes to nothing. A tornado raged before the gaze of the astartes, blood sprayed like clouds from time to time by the vile xenos who were tallaidés.
Without a doubt, the matriarch was uttering a violence that her blade-wielding astartes simply couldn't comprehend. Simply because even their superhuman eyes had trouble seeing her in motion. She was simply escaping mortal constraints as the Empress' child.
Much more than a living being, born by chance into an indifferent world, Freya Russ was an incarnation of violence and destruction, a concept given pulpit.
And in this moment, she was honoring her nature, and rendering a destruction that artillery had struggled to offer. She slashed again and again in a dance that was so inaccessible to those born human that it was magnificent.
Like everything else at its peak, it had its own beauty. The slashing only stopped when she reached a large, open, circular area. The all-metal floor told her that this was the hive's central shaft.
The Cajuns arrived from the air, landing with small thrusters similar to the Castellan's, bursting their foamcrete grenades on the ground as soon as they touched down. Creating a variety of cover.
And they did well, for more and more xenos gathered around them, intent only on tearing them to pieces.
More and more astartes raced to join the Cajuns, shots ricocheting off their armor.
The matriarch led the way, unafraid of enemy fire thanks to her armor and shield.
Once behind the cover of the foamcrete, the matriarch turned to another faceless Cadian, this one sporting white markings on his armor.
His electric-blue gaze was hardly amused.
Freya: Bravo, you're surrounded.
Cadien: Madame, we can now attack from all directions.
The wolves who weren't too busy emptying their bolter magazines burst out laughing at this group of Cajuns who seemed completely serious.
blam*
The crack of a thunderhammer was heard as Firehead struck a xeno that had managed to get through the foamcrete perimeter. The arrival of more and more xenos was only offset by the equal arrival of more and more astartes who, once the altitude had been reduced enough, were able to jump too.
Firehead: We're going to have to come up with a plan, and fast!
Freya: The bomb. How do you use it?
It was the only stage of the plan she had really retained.
Cadien: To have a chance of her cleaning the hive properly-
bam*
Grenade launchers and bolter fire were now too close for the audio volume to remain acceptable. The man had to shout to be heard.
Cadien: You have to send him to the bottom of the main well, my matriarch!
Firehead: And how do we get it down?! We're on the fucking elevator and I'm not going where those bugs are!
A plan... A plan...
Why didn't her advisors give her any? Normally, they had a knack for giving her the plans she was merely asserting. She felt like she was faced with an infinite series of possibilities, branches with results, consequences, that she didn't know about.
For the speed at which she was thinking, two seconds was an eternity in which she felt like she was leading herself into an infernal spiral. What would the Empress do, what would Iris do? What would any of her sisters, who were far better strategists, do? Rachel would have had ten times as many astartes to throw at her problem, with a dozen or so hand-picked advisors able to handle this precise situation. Regina would have led an infernal siege or lured the xenos to a fortress of her own creation. Ferra could have led an unstoppable charge against the encirclement and developed tools to help his legion.
But she...
She was just an animal.
She thought too much.
She was a she-wolf.
Beast among men before being queen. And she had to trust her instincts, what defined her, what she was born with rather than what she was given and what she coveted.
The little Cajun's words with a big mouth replayed in his thoughts.
Did she have to hurry because they might be overrun with enemies? Then she'd do it as fast as she could.
Freya: Have the bomb delivered to our position.
Her voice was heavy and strong enough that she didn't need to shout.
An obstacle standing in her way? She'd knock it down.
Freya: Drill a hole in the ground and drop the bomb.
The Cajun took a second.
Cadien: If we keep the parachutes attached, the bomb should stay in one piece. It could work!
And if she couldn't do anything else, then she'd do what she knew best.
She bared her fangs at the xenos, her hair bristling and her skin stiffening beneath the thick armor.
Freya: We'll hold the position until then!
She walked to the edge of the area created by the foamcrete, her children's gaze on her. If it were even possible for the Empress's creations to tremble, they would have done so under their armor. Something indescribable took control of their minds and flesh, a feeling very similar to those few had felt when reunited with their matriarch.
The matriarch's eyes began to shine, even brighter than usual. Their blue was the color of lightning striking the tops of mountains and the depths of glaciers.
She raised her axe. Juvik's words rose from her lips.
Freya: My children ! Sons of the rout ! Under our fangs these monsters will be torn apart ! Let none survive !
The pack howled, those equipped with both abandoning the bolter in favor of the sword, the Cajuns immediately replacing them in their firing positions. More and more xenos arrived around them, gradually replaced by the more advanced, armored forms.
Cadien: Steel wing! Request for immediate package release!
The officer shouted his orders, and the soldiers moved without saying a word.
A hexapod appeared, its weapons spinning. Like yesterday, she was surrounded. But this time she would not hesitate. The castellan had entrusted his men to her, and his astartes followed in faith.
Then she wouldn't disappoint them.
She charged forward, her muscles gathering immense strength. Throwing herself over the foamcrete barrier, she skimmed the ground like a running animal. A swing of the axe and the steel and flesh of her enemy was reduced to nothing. Bipedal forms were too weak to even merit her gaze.
A loud noise sounded to her left. Cleverly, one of the quadrupeds had fired his weapons to propel himself towards her. But it only made her job easier. A broad sweep of her axe and she slammed the creature into her blade, before contorting herself to send it into the crowd of xeno, reducing them to nothing.
Blood and sparks flew across her face, but she didn't stop there.
The hexapod pointed its cannon not at the matriarch but at the circle of fighters. In one swift movement, she swung her axe at one of the creature's legs, causing the first shot to miss. But that wouldn't be enough. The next one would come too quickly, and she wouldn't have time to get through the horde of enemies.
His armor was not as rich in armor plates as most Astartes. This gave him an agility far beyond that of his warriors. Not to mention his biological nature.
But she'd never shown it before. It wasn't natural enough for her. She was supposed to be a bulwark...
But it wasn't that she was.
She leapt up, and in a movement so swift as to be imperceptible to the poor fools sharing her battlefield, she sliced the Xeno war machine in half at full length and landed on the other side. All they could see was terrifying, with the feline grace the matriarch had just demonstrated.
She grabbed the xeno's weapon and tore it from the carcass, the only thing that mattered was that it was steel, and a big one. The only thing that mattered was that it was steel, and a big one, because all she did was swing it around her like a sledgehammer, smashing the xenos all around her to smithereens.
Before throwing it towards a flying beast, exploding it in mid-air.
An airplane?
She now realized that something was wrong, and this snapped her out of her trance. She looked up to see multiple winged xenos, still grotesquely mixing biology and mechanics. Chaos howled in her voxlink.
The little boy had been repaired by the admech priests.
It was a weapon of unbelievable technology and formidable effectiveness. From a distance, it looked like a rifle. But it was really a little jewel, the design and initial schematics having been created by him. But the whole thing was a skilful blend of STC's marvellous technology, his knowledge, which was... And Ambrosia's mad genius.
The result was here. Equipped with microgravity thrusters and magnets, microfabricators cut small balls of enriched plutonium, and sent them off at a respectable portion of the speed of light. When the projectile crashed, compression forced it to become supercritical, generating a small nuclear explosion.
Of course, it wasn't a weapon given to every soldier. The recoil was enough to crush their ribcage, and the cost was immense.
But it was as he held it in his hands that he realized how lucky he was. He really was.
True, he'd crashed on a planet on the verge of invasion by Hell x4, with a few hundred cavemen at his command...
But he was able to understand that there were even more hostile planets than the one on which he had appeared. He was lucky to have stumbled upon Cadia. He was lucky that said cavemen had rabbit libidos. He was lucky that the planet was strewn with ruins, technology and knowledge. Enough to give the machine of progress a big kick. He was lucky that his genes would spread after a few conquests, giving rise to soldiers stronger, taller and more resistant than standard human beings. But also that the warp's mutagenic radiation would do just enough to provide genetic diversity. In what was not a genetic pool, but rather a puddle...
He was lucky again when a ship of technology and industry enthusiasts crashed near his planet. And that these were progressives a little less fanatical than the cousins from whom they'd fled, and that by coincidence they were more than happy to help them in their objectives. He was lucky to be in a system rich enough in resources and habitable planets.
He was lucky Ambrosia was who she was.
A madwoman who, despite the fact that 98% of her body mass was replaced by metal, retained her humanity because she was so full of flaws and oddities. But above all, she was a genius like he'd rarely seen, charismatic and fearless. That she understood almost immediately who he was and what his goal was. And that they would work together towards common goals.
He was lucky that the dogmas and teachings he had tried to propagate to his people had worked, and that consequently the number of Cajuns who gave in to chaos was insignificant and reduced over time.
He was lucky that his psykers were stable. And he didn't know how.
He was so lucky that he could have sworn God was on his side. Unfortunately, he knew full well that the opposite was true.
That's right, he had an ass full of noodles...
His energy shield was down. Too many shots were targeting him. A xeno blade unluckily pierced his suit in the back, piercing his right flank. With a burst of thrusters, he turned and fired, the single shot annihilating the enemy.
The nanites in the dermal suit activated to repair her, with her cells underneath doing the rest.
Overloading his thrusters, he zigzagged across the battlefield, firing in all directions before leaping forward to pass over the cover of a pontifar and rejoin his soldiers. Grabbing his weapon's plutonium reserve, he pressed a button, covering the magazine with a layer of berrylium, before throwing it into the middle of the xenos a good hundred meters away.
The explosion was titanic. But the xenos were simply too numerous.
He reloaded his weapon. His gaze went to Creed, who was standing right next to him. The young woman exhausted from using her powers and fighting relentlessly.
Sebastian: You don't have a brain Creed, you've got a gun!
Creed: My rifle is a fucking flashlight, not something that can drill the bullet holes of five of these bastards!
He stepped back slightly.
Creed: I'm taking three weeks off after this crap! And count on the fact that I'll be pregnant and out of commission by the end of those!
A bullet ricocheted off the colossus's skull, sending sparks flying towards the Cajun, who stood up and held out her hand, a gigantic bolt of lightning shooting out from it and striking a score of xenos who fell to the ground. Her eyes give off sparks of pure power.
The colossus tugged on her shoulder to bring her back under cover before slamming his fist into the top of her helmet.
Sebastian: Let's calm her magic down, dammit! I can already feel the demons on the other end of the phone! Especially since the planet is already corrupt!
He shook his head... That woman...
He knew she was competent, and had practically trained the way Cajun psykers now operated.
But she was too much for him...
Catching a few lucky shots outside his cover, the colossus looked at his troops. Before a strange noise reached his ears.
Sebastian: Everyone take cover! Missiles began to hit the pontificators, who were perceived as the biggest threat on the battlefield. But fortunately, they hit the reinforced parts of the mechanical beasts, which only staggered slightly.
The colossus used his neural implant to connect to the cameras on the various vehicles. Seeing that the missiles had been launched by the new xenos arrivals. Flying creatures, with wings of flesh and metal, but also with jet engines, in mixtures even more grotesque than the others, showing their accelerated development.
But this was a major problem. For now he had a new, contested dimension on the battlefield.
And soon they were approaching the center of the matriarch's home.
Sebastian: Steel wing! You're off to provide air support for transporting the package and helping the matriarch's group! Everything else is secondary! To all vehicles, you point your cannons skyward - except the razorbacks, I want you in the middle of enemy lines, making a mess!
The xenos had shown that, surprisingly enough, they avoided hurting their comrades.
Sebastian: General charge! Move to the enemy! Infantrymen, move away from the vehicles, because they'll be the first to be targeted!
In the midst of their allies, the flying units wouldn't fire to risk killing the other xenos.
It was a risky tactic, and one that would have a knock on hammerbolts, bullheads and maybe even pontificators. But tough choices had to be made.
"Package approaching, E.T.A five minutes!"
Sebastian: With me, Cadians! LOAD!
With a common cry, the soldiers emerged from their shelters and charged towards the xenos. The vehicle fire was a final support and shock to prevent them from being decimated. But the losses were still terrible.
Falling one after the other, the Cajuns began to glow.
That's what they were made for. To be plunged into pits of despair, mud, blood and cordite.
To shine with a thousand lights. Like poor pieces of coal, under compression and heat, some broke. Others became diamonds.
A sergeant, her arm ripped off, drew her knife, threw it and killed a biped. An impaled first class, who pulled the pin out of a grenade, firmly holding his opponent, a big smile on his lips. A captain climbed onto a hexapod, propelled by his company's soldiers, to lodge a shaped charge on the ammunition stockpile.
They would die.
But they would die on their feet. Smiles on their faces, knowing full well that if they didn't take their opponent's life, then ten other soldiers would take their place and do it for them.
Well, the Cajun aircraft took care of that. Stormbirds were not well-suited to dogfights, which the agile grey aeronef seemed to love.
A smile spread across his face as the slaughter continued at his hands. Her children at her side, like little cubs helping their mother on the hunt.
At the center of the foamcrete circle, three Cajun engineers chain together the use of shaped charges and their lasguns in continuous mode in an attempt to pierce the elevator's heavy layer of steel.
"Delivery man here, ETA two minutes! Coming in hot!"
Firehead turned around, as one of the few wolves with melee weapons who were trying their best to defend the inner circle. Although she was quite unnerved by the faceless beings by her sides. For when one of them got hit by enemy fire, they wouldn't even grunt. Instead being dragged away by one of these 'kasrkin' and immediately replaced.
Her gaze turned towards the engineers who seemed far from done.
Firehead: How long is this going to take?!
Engineer: Ma'am this is one hundred and fifty five centimeters of tempered titanium! We'd need a siege weapon to go quicker!
Firehead: Well you got one!
She started moving fast towards the engineers who scattered away, as she drew her thunderhammer and under the creaking of her servos, striked the circle they had tried to cut off.
The metallic noise was deafening and all of those on the elevator shook. One quick glance, and her eyes crossed those of her matriarch.
She couldn't fail.
Howling in rage she started hitting again and again, like a madwoman she sundered titanium, servos, muscles and the adamantium of her hammer.
She couldn't fail...
With one final scream, hell broke loose and so did her hammer. But so did the hole in the elevator, offering a view on the endless dark shaft.
She took a few steps back, exhausted beyond belief.
A different aircraft approached, escorted by smaller ones.
"This is the delivery man, immediate drop-"
An impact sounded on the other side and the aircraft began to lose altitude. The pilot had been shot down, the bomb still attached.
Freya: Shit!
Someone else, even through the fog, two kilometers away could see the situation.
An explosion propelled him into the air.
His heartbeat quickened to an indescribable rhythm, his reflexes and movements crescendoing too. Under his helmet, green turned red as he took his weapon from his shoulder and pulled the trigger.
Seven hundredths of a second seemed like an eternity before the shot hit the aircraft and finally dropped the bomb, which fell with the help of its parachutes.
And for once, a bit of luck, because this one seemed to be heading for the area protected by the space wolves.
The aeronef, on the other hand, began to accelerate towards the Cajuns.
He quickly calculated the point of impact, but there was nothing he could do. Not when he was fighting thirty xenos at once, using his sword, thruster and rifle.
Just a sign...
Slashing a xeno in half, following up with a kick that killed three, and a grenade stuffed in the mouth of one, he was finally able to free his arm for a shot.
The projectile struck at Creed's feet, and he turned to face the colossus, his senses on the alert. His sense of danger was transmitted to him by the currents of the imaterium. His emotions felt.
She turned her gaze and could see the aeronef approaching her and a small group of Cajuns with whom she was fighting. Abandoning her rifle, adrenalin and emotion awakened her body and she reached out with both hands, her eyes glowing with lightning.
The machine seemed to slow down ever so slightly, as if something were holding it back. Lightning began to strike around her, flying from her body as her soul was put to the test.
The murmurs in his mind were getting louder, and likewise in the surrounding soldiers, who could feel the corruption infesting their minds by the mere presence.
But she refused. She needed to save her soldiers. No endless fighting, no unparalleled excess, no futile and treacherous hopes, no love and constancy.
All she needed was this little gesture.
Hands were placed on her. Filling her with warmth and strength. The hands of soldiers. Those at her side, those who were no longer there.
Realizing she couldn't stop it, Creed deflected the object's trajectory, sending it crashing away. Where no one was supposed to be...
Had to.
Major Carter was there with one of his squads.
They were crushed by the carcass before they realized what was happening. Their iffs flashed red before fading away on the soldiers' interfaces.
They were dead and she had killed them.
Trembling, the whispers only intensified. And she began to scream, her mind and soul being torn to shreds.
A soldier pulled her under the cover of a pile of foamcrete before slapping her and handing her back her rifle.
That's right...
She had no time to give in to the demons. She had a battle to fight.
And therein lay the secret by which Cajuns kept their sanity.
Camaraderie.
Cadien: Delivery confirmed!
We still had to persevere.
Freya: Drop the damn bomb!
The Cajun engineers and one of the astartes set about pushing the heavy oval craft towards the breach they had created, but many checks had to be made to ensure that it worked.
Engineer: Once the bomb is dropped, we'll have to evacuate the area as quickly as possible.
why was the ground shaking?
A figure began to rise on the horizon. Emerging from one of the hive's largest elevators. Another bio titan.
Sebastian: Hammerbolts, authorization for nuclear warheads, fire on the bastard!
The bio-titan moved towards the matriarch and her group, loading its cannon. The Cajun tanks aimed their guns at the war machine and began firing. But the warheads only exploded before hitting their targets, as if they were crashing through the air, revealing that the machine was equipped with a shield.
Sebastian: Shit...
Freya: Shoot!
The matriarch's voice shook her vox link.
Freya: With your big red thing, shoot!
Sebastian: I can't! I need two months between shots!
What he heard from the other side was nothing but insults, so he began to think of a plan.
He called up his neural implant, connecting to the on-board computers of all the hammerbolts. If he struck with all the guns at his disposal, at exactly the same time, in exactly the same place. Perhaps the impact would be concentrated enough to shatter the shield.
So he had to concentrate. Using 100% of his brain, letting all other bodily functions come to a halt. His breathing stopped, his heart stopped, the creation of new cells stopped and he began to feel immobilized. His optic nerves and all others stopped communicating with his brain.
The slightest hundredth of a millimeter, the slightest gust of wind, the slightest degree of rotation or temperature... And he'd miss.
He couldn't afford it.
The matriarch gave her orders. A beast facing the flames could only flee and hide. She returned to the circle and grabbed the Cajun captain by his armor.
Freya: Throw all your rock grenades! Now!
He understood that the matriarch wanted shelter, and prayed that the foamcrete would be enough.
The Cajuns detonated their remaining grenades, forming a protective wall around them.
The calculations complete, the hammerbolt railguns fired, at different intervals. But the impact explosion arrived at the same instant. The shockwave was so powerful, it was enough to make your hair stand on end. Throwing dust and debris absolutely everywhere.
The titan was still standing. Just slightly shaken. But he had moved, and that was enough for him to miss.
The machine fired, a large flaming projectile flying disappointingly slowly to crash into the Xeno city.
All hell broke loose, a tidal wave of a gellatinous substance bursting forth and spreading throughout the fortress, burning so hotly that industrial structures were ruined, and xenos were reduced to ashes as they tried to flee. An immense earthquake shook the entire hive.
The flames licked at the foamcrete walls. Which withstood the heat surprisingly well...
There was a small, singular second of silence. The matriarch could only hear her body screaming.
But the bio-titan straightened up and blew a foghorn. Aiming its cannon straight at the matriarch's group.
The hammerbolts had run out of nuclear warheads.
Sebastian: Think... Think...
He could move. He didn't seem to form a bubble around himself, moving the landscape.
This meant that the elements on the ground were moving in his bubble.
But not the projectiles.
He concentrated his vision, removing the filter from his helmet. Concentrating.
The mist... was entering the field of the shield. Dust.
It was either a question of size.
A question of speed.
There was no time for tossing a coin, so we had to use all our options.
He ran towards the crashed bomber, and pointed his gun at the bio-titan before firing.
A little boy's ball was barely the size of a few grains of sand. But thanks to his vision, he could see it crash into the bubble. Then he began to smile.
Climbing into the bomber's cockpit, he extracted the pilot's body, taking no time to recite a prayer, and set about restarting the machine, getting it off the ground quickly.
Sebastian: Castellan here! I'll temper a ram maneuver...
Flying slowly towards the bio-titan, the colossus began to smile. Deactivating the acceleration limiters. After entering the bubble, he would have to accelerate enough to take down the titan. The g's he'd take and the impact...
He was in for a rough time.
One of the pilots, seeing the bomber, didn't try to understand his leader's plan, but formed up and picked up the radio.
"Steel wing, we've got him covered!"
The elevator plate began to shake dangerously, and Cajun soldiers and wolves, freed from enemy presence, began to look each other in the eye.
Engineer: Shit!
An ember, a droplet of the flammable liquid thrown by the bio-titan from the boiling sea by which they were surrounded, landed on the bomb's parachute, and quickly went up in smoke. Making the proud soldiers realize that their weapons were still flawed.
As the soldiers tried to extinguish it, the elevator's supports showed once again that they had been weakened;
One side of it gave way, tilting the whole platform slightly. Of course, all the experienced fighters stayed on their feet. But the bomb... began to slide, and fell to the bottom of the shaft. Firehead tried to grab hold of the parachute wires, but they were quickly consumed and gave way.
Freya: Shit!
clunk*
You could hear the structure give way more and more, leaving you to imagine what would happen next.
Freya: Move!
The Cajun soldiers followed the order. Otherwise they would have stayed there...
All climbed the foamcrete wall with haste, as the elevator threatened to fall and crash to the bottom of the shaft at any moment.
As the fighters defended the perimeter around the bomber, the colossus closed his eyes as the last few meters separated him from the titan. He closed his eyes.
He wasn't afraid for him. So his prayer wasn't directed at him.
Sebastain: Lord... May this battle be crowned with victory... May my men know peace, and from their ashes life will rise...
He passed the shield bubble, his machine trembling slightly. Then he smiled and went full throttle.
Cajun craft were designed to operate and travel in the vacuum of space, easily on the scale of a solar system. In case they were unable to reach a ship.
So their speed was phenomenal...
The impact was thunderous, the fuel reserves in the device exploding and destroying the bio-titan, which began to fall slowly... The matriarch stared at the ball of flames.
And as usual, a figure emerged.
The elevator finally began to drop to the bottom of the shaft, with a few too-slow fighters also falling.
20G.
Impact.
The flames.
His energy shield? Toast. His armor had survived, but that was to be expected.
One of his generators had overloaded, and he felt himself slowly falling. His blood vessels had imploded from the intense force of acceleration.
The priority was his brain... The rest of his body could follow. Blood began to be pumped from the neurons back into his arteries and veins, the latter quickly regenerating. His consciousness returned to 100% and he realized he was falling. And with his luck...
He was falling straight towards the hive's main shaft...
Sebastian: Shit shit shit...
He activated his thrusters, but soon realized that they weren't delivering even a quarter of their usual power, as the data from his suit began to fill his neural implant. A piece of shrapnel was stuck in the back of his armor.
His gaze met an electric blue. He pushed his thruster to its maximum capacity, trying to reach the edge of the well into which he was doomed to fall.
Freya Russ saw the man fall, and ran to the edge of the well.
Not so soon.
He'd been useful, he'd helped her progress, he'd made her laugh.
She threw herself forward, holding out her hand, the soldier doing the same. Time seemed to slow down. The matriarch's face was strange. There seemed to be an expression on her face she'd never had before.
Maybe that was why her face was so ugly, despite her normal beauty. In another world, he might have fallen in love with her. A beautiful blonde, who, despite a life hard enough for her development, knew how to be lively. Laughed loudly, smiled from ear to ear, knew how to enjoy a drink.
But this wasn't the world for him.
Their fingertips and outstretched hands cracked, and then the colossus dropped like a stone to the bottom of the well.
Freya: Shit!
The colossus could only concentrate on his breathing as he breathed more and more heavily, he brushed against one of the walls, grasping it with the hope of scaling it, but as soon as he laid his fingers on it, a pipe exploded throwing him through a ventilation grate and into long ducts.
He tried to stop, his armor scratching the metal and sparking everywhere, then he fell back into another purely vertical duct, bursting more and more pipes and ventilation grates as he went.
After a while, the shrapnel in his back was torn away, and the nanites were able to do their job.
Reaching terminal velocity, the colossus did all he could to stabilize himself in the air, and when his HUD lights were green, he activated his thrusters.
He impacted a floor of metal plates landing on his legs with grace, shattering the metal under his weight, slow enough not to break anything. He took a deep breath and rose to his feet;
Sebastian: I'm still up. Can anyone hear me?
A mettallic noise called out to him. He looked up to see all the metal pipes and debris he'd broken falling towards him.
Sebastian: Blyat-
He was buried under the debris and lost consciousness.
A/N: That's a wrap dear readers. This took a while to write, all my fault mind you. Trying different styles of writing for this chapter, my other stories... But starting college and suddenly hitting the gym five times a week may have had a toll on my time allocated to writing. (And absolutely not my crippling addiction to modded stardew valley.)
Anyways, see you next time, and have fun playing space marine 2. Unlike me...
I'll play it one day or another... I'm not salty about not having it...