by Gav Thorpe
Suddenly feeling that he was being observed, Cassius did not look back to verify what he had glimpsed, but instead stepped into the central corridor. He knew that the lictor would attack as soon as it thought it had been discovered, but until then would stalk its prey for the most opportune moment. At such close quarters, the Chaplain knew that the lictor would be able to strike him down in an instant if it had the chance to attack. Somehow he needed to gain the upper hand, to manoeuvre into a position from which he would be the hunter.
Stepping backwards at the same steady pace he had been walking before, Cassius moved away from the junction, pistol raised towards the outer passageway. He knew he would not get much warning of the impending attack. The lictor's skin was covered with chameleonic scales that blended with the environment, and its exoskeleton was capable of masking all but a small fraction of its body heat. Sound would be the best detector, but with the whole warehouse quietly thrumming with the pounding of the nearby cataract, it would be almost impossible to detect the scrape of a clawed foot on the floor or the rubbing together of chitinous plates, even with the Chaplain's superhuman hearing and the aid of his armours autosenses.
Lictors had been evolved by the tyranids to be stealth incarnate, and their oversized claws made them experts at ambush attacks, slicing apart their victims before they even knew they were in danger. Such an organism was a threat to even a power-armoured Space Marine, but it would be even more deadly if it remained undiscovered and was able to attack whilst the Ultramarines were dealing with the first wave of assault organisms that were surely following the pheromone trail it had left in its wake.
It is behind me again.
The thought came to Cassius from nowhere, a message sent to his reasoning mind from some animalistic, instinctual part of his brain.
He turned and fired without questioning the moment of intuition, the muzzle flare of the bolt pistol illuminating the monstrous form of the lictor as it stretched up to its full height, nearly a metre taller than the Space Marine. Its main attack claws were drawn back overhead, serrated edges glinting sharply in the blaze of light. Its face was barely two metres from Cassius, faceted black eyes gleaming with dozens of tiny reflections of the Chaplain. Its maw was a bundle of tendrils writhing like a serpents' nest, tasting the air. Hand-like claws flexed at the ends of its lower appendances, while sharply taloned feet were curling, digging into the stone of the floor to increase the beast's purchase for the killing blow.
The bolt hit the lictor in the left side of its abdomen, blowing out a hand-sized chunk of chitin and flesh.
Even as he fired a second shot, Cassius dived to his left, crashing through a flimsy door, a moment before the lictor's scythe-like claws flashed down in an instantaneous reaction to the Chaplain's attack. One claw smashed into the ferrocrete where Cassius had been standing; the other caught him a glancing blow on his right greave, scoring a jagged gash through the black armour, exposing the suspensors and stabilising gyros within.
Falling to his back, Cassius had his pistol pointed at the doorway within a double-beat of his hearts, ready to fire again.
The doorway remained empty for several seconds, but Cassius knew better than to believe the lictor had fled. Its presence known, it was biologically programmed to finish the hunt, eliminating all witnesses to ensure it could disappear once more. Cassius had seen such attacks first hand on Macragge and Ichar IV and half a dozen other worlds, and read treatises detailing the same from others who had faced the tyranids. He would not be fooled by a few moments' pause.
Then the lictor came on, ripping a hole through the wall to Cassius's left rather than coming through the doorway, scattering chunks of plasterite across the room. The tyranid creature burst into the clerk's chamber at the heart of an expanding cloud of dust, jabbing wildly with its scythe-talons, ripping gashes across the floor.
Surging to his feet, Cassius narrowly avoided the next attack, the illuminator's desk behind him detonating in a shower of wooden splinters, coloured inks splashing across the floor and walls. The Chaplain swung his crozius, one wingtip of the powered mace's head burying itself into the wound opened by the Chaplain's first shot.
The lictor made no noise as it spasmed in pain, lashing out with its lower set of claws, tearing three lines across Cassius's right shoulder plate. Twisting the crozius arcanum deeper into the lictor's innards, the Chaplain pushed himself closer to his foe, underneath the deadly sweep of the beast's upper limbs. He brought up his pistol and fired into the cluster of feeder tentacles pawing at his helmet. The lictor's head split apart from within, spraying thick ichor and globules of brain matter across Cassius's armour.
Still off balance, Cassius found himself borne to the ground by the weight of the dying lictor, the servos of his armour whining in protest for a moment before he crashed sideways into the bare ferrocrete. He lay there, pinned down by the lictor's corpse, the floor beneath him vibrating gently from the roar of the cataract while the creature above twitched and spasmed.
With a grunt, Cassius managed to heave himself onto his front, pushing the lictors body aside. Gaining his feet, the Chaplain fired three more rounds into the creature, targeting the brain stem, secondary neuroprocessor at the base of the spine and the ventricle chambers within its abdominal cavity.
'Enemy destroyed,' he announced over the comm. 'Be vigilant. The first attack wave will not be far behind.'
CHAPTER IV
AS DAY BECAME night, a total of four lictors were discovered and destroyed inside the Cordus Via perimeter, though not before accounting for the death of two Ultramarines and the serious injury of three others. Brother-Apothecary Valion converted a floor of workers' dorms into a field surgery, located close to the centre of the settlement, but his ministrations were not enough to keep the wounded brethren battle-ready. The dead were relieved of their battle gear and ammunition and along with the wounded were taken by Thunderhawk back to the strike cruiser. Cassius marked the names of the fallen in his battle litanies that night, and reminded the rest of the strike force that there was no greater honour than to die in battle against the enemies of the Emperor.
With the sky swiftly darkening, Cassius faced a thorny decision: whether to bring the outer patrols closer to Cordus Via or not. The further the patrolling squads - three of them in total - were from the settlement, the more warning and information the main force would receive in the event of a tyranid assault. Counter to this, the likelihood of any patrol surviving such a first encounter was greatly reduced if they were beyond the range of swift support from their battle-brethren.
Cassius and Dacia discussed the matter in person. They met in a small outbuilding attached to the refuelling depot, which Cassius had dedicated as a battlefield chapelry. One of the Chapter's battle banners was laid over a cluster of tables and such small relics as Cassius had been able to bring with him were placed on this makeshift altar: a silver goblet that Roboute Guilliman had drunk from during his first meeting with the Emperor; the knife of Antonius Galeus, a much-revered Chapter Master of the Ultramarines; a second-revision copy of the Codex Astartes; and a claw from a tyranid hive tyrant, gilded and engraved by Cassius himself, taken as a token of the victory at Macragge.
The two of them stood on opposite sides of the altar, and addressed each other over their external speakers, not wishing to air their disagreement over the comm net. Cassius had granted audience to the veteran sergeant in recognition of his status as second-in-command, but had made it plain that he was all but set on keeping the patrols at long range.
'There is no advantage in keeping our patrols so far from assistance,' complained Dacia, leaning forwards onto the altar. 'If we are to keep Cordus Via from being overrun, every warrior must account for the highest toll of the enemy. Our patrols will be swiftly destroyed by any large tyranid force, for little advantage to our strategy.'
'We cannot risk the enemy coming upon us unseen,' countered Cassius. He was irked that Dacia was second-guessing his strategy in this way, though
it was the role of a veteran sergeant to provide guidance and advice to his commanders. 'We also cannot afford the tyranids discovering some other route to Plains Fall; one that bypasses our position here.'
'So it is your intent that our patrols will be discovered, and in that way attract the tyranids to Cordus Via?' Dacia shook his head slightly and there was incredulity in the metal-tinged voice that came from his helm. 'You would use our battle-brothers as bait?'
'A harsh assessment, brother-sergeant,' replied Cassius. 'I have no intent to allow our patrols to be killed. They will withdraw immediately upon contacting the enemy, bringing the tyranids down the highway and into the strongest part of our defence.'
'I am not convinced that we could not achieve such an end in other ways, without the attendant risk to our patrol squads.'
'If you have a suggestion to make, sergeant, I will be prepared to give it audience.'
Before Dacia could voice his alternative plan, the comm crackled with a priority signal, cutting across the routine report transmissions that had been flowing back and forth between the Space Marine squads.
'Light source from the east, Brother-Chaplain,' said Sergeant Capilla. The sergeant led one of the devastator squads stationed atop the highest dormitory block. 'Estimate they are five kilometres away and approaching.'
'Understood, brother-sergeant,' said Cassius. 'Sergeant Dacia and I will join you shortly.'
The Chaplain walked around the altar and gestured for Dacia to follow.
'I believe we have a third option to resolve our difference of opinion,' said Cassius, switching back to external address. 'A lure that will ensure the tyranids attack here, but will not place our patrols in unnecessary danger.'
FROM THEIR VANTAGE point atop the tenement, the Ultramarines could clearly see the approaching Battle Titans. Beams from four massive searchlights blazed across the fields, mounted sixty metres above the ground atop the carapaces of the walking war engines. Smaller spotlights illuminated the windswept crops beneath the advancing behemoths, while the helmet-like command bridge of each Titan was lit from within, viewing canopies glaring like ruby eyes in the darkness.
With ponderous strides, the Warlords covered the ground effortlessly, stepping over walls and farmsteads without hesitation. Canals and irrigation ditches proved no obstacle either, bypassed by the massive legs of the Titans. The dull thump of each immense footfall could be heard more clearly, and silhouettes resolved into more detail, as the Warlords came closer.
Each was a humanoid metallic beast, hunched over beneath an armoured carapace of adamantium and plasteel. Two gigantic weapons were mounted upon the back of each Titan and hung from hardpoints either side of chamfered bodies where a man's arms would be. Triangular banners hung from these arm weapons, flapping and swaying with every stride, and another standard was slung on thick chains between the legs of each Titan.
The machine on the left, Victorix, was armed with two multiple rockets launchers atop its carapace, each rocket held within the gigantic cylinders containing several dozen warheads capable of obliterating entire companies of infantry and smashing armoured vehicles. Victorix's right arm was a squat, thick weapon surrounded by coiled pipes and bundles of cables: a plasma cannon powerful enough to level buildings. Its left was a multibarrelled gatler that could spew forth a stream of titanium-tipped shells each several times larger than a Space Marine.
On the right, Dominatus Rex sported two such gatling cannons on its broad back. Beneath the crenellated carapace were slung two long-barrelled laser weapons that had been brought up into a locked position either side of the Titan's head-shaped cockpit. Known as volcano cannons, the fifteen-metre-long guns were designed to destroy enemy super-heavy machines, but would be equally useful searing through the massed broods of a tyranid swarm or vaporising the larger bio-constructs Styxia's defenders might expect to face.
Taller than the building on which Cassius stood, the Titans towered over Cordus Via. As well as the huge battle honour flags, each Warlord was strung with streamers and banners carrying the markings of the Cult Mechanicus. More than just weapons of war, these were idols of the Machine-God, wrought in sacred forge-factories to obliterate the enemies of Mars and its adepts.
Cassius had fought alongside Titans before, but had never encountered one of the metal beasts at such close hand. The thudding of their steps was loud even above the incessant sound of the cataract, every mighty tread causing the ground to shudder slightly, and with each stride came a symphony of growls, whines, hisses and clanking. By the light of their own lamps, the red-and-black livery of the Legio Fortitudis was plain to see, painted in broad stripes across the upper carapace turrets and the armoured plates protecting the Titans' lower legs. Cog devices and half-skulls in bright metals marked the hard-angled surfaces of their bodies, gleaming in the reflected glow of the searchlights.
'Princeps Jasyn of the Legio Fortitudis.' The announcement was made over the strategic frequency chosen by General Arka for the disparate Imperial forces, the voice quiet, almost a whisper. Victorix raised its gatling cannon in salute, kill banner sweeping over a row of empty grain silos, its shadow passing across the tactical squad standing guard on the gantries around them.
'Princeps Perthion, pleased to make your acquaintance, Chaplain.' Perthion's voice was deeper, tainted with a hollow ring that reminded Cassius of the artificial voice boxes used by his Chapter's Dreadnoughts.
'Your presence is welcome,' replied Cassius.
'We are honoured to assist the Adeptus Astartes of the Ultramarines,' said Jasyn. 'Where would you like us to fight?'
Cassius had been considering this matter for some time, and in discussion with Dacia as they had made their way to the tenement block, had formulated a plan.
'I would have Dominatus Rex positioned on the highway, a kilometre to the west,' said the Chaplain. 'We have no weapons capable of covering the far side of the gorge to the north, but that will present little problem to you.'
'Understood, Chaplain,' said Perthion. 'I will protect your flank from encirclement.'
'And Victorix?' asked Jasyn. There was something about the way the princeps used the name of his Titan, a familiar inflection, that made it sound to Cassius as if Jasyn were referring to himself.
'On the southern flank, overlooking the refuelling depot and highway would be appropriate, princeps. Your sensor arrays are more powerful than anything we possess and will provide warning of the enemy's approach.'
'We will be your eyes and ears, Chaplain,' said Perthion. A series of thunderous rattles preceded a drawn out, deafening hiss as the lock-bolts were released from Dominatus Rex's volcano cannons. The immense weapons lowered into position with a creak and a clank. 'And your fists.'
'Blessed is the fist that strikes down the foes of mankind,' said Cassius. 'You will earn the gratitude of the Ultramarines for your actions.'
'Blessed indeed is the artifice of the Machine-God, that a humble man might lay low so many foes in the name of the Omnissiah,' came Perthion's reply.
Cassius watched as the Warlords split, swinging away to their appointed stations. He had no doubts that the open highway and fields would be a killing ground for the war machines. There was no intelligence to suggest that the tyranids had managed to land their largest constructs, bio-titans that would be the match of the Adeptus Mechanicus machines, and the Chaplain was confident the men of Legio Fortitudis would destroy many hundreds, if not thousands, of the enemy as they approached Cordus Via.
The streets of the main settlement were a different matter entirely, too tight for the Titans to operate. Despite horrendous casualties, the tyranids would come on and on, driven against their foes by their instinct to devour. No approach was one hundred per cent secure, and the Chaplain knew that despite his immense allies, it was likely the tyranids would eventually reach the buildings and the fighting would become close and deadly.
That would be when his Ultramarines would prove their worth.
'SENSOR SWEEP DETECTS
multiple biological signals, four kilometres distant,' Princeps Perthion's warning was devoid of urgency, delivered in the same relaxed tone as his previously negative reports. 'Estimate two to three hundred life forms.'
Dawn was still three hours away, the darkness broken only by a faint glimmer of stars through the cloudy haze and the beams of the Titans' searchlights. The Ultramarines moved quickly into position, their autosenses allowing them to navigate the dark streets and alleys without hesitation. The thrum of powered armour, clump of boots, whine of power cells charging and click of magazines being checked sounded loud in the still night, echoing from empty buildings.
'Moving to engage,' announced Princeps Jasyn. Victorix shuddered into life, its weapons drawing up to the firing position. The ground trembled as the Warlord took two strides up the highway access ramp, the dazzling glare of the Titan's lamps lighting up the ferrocrete surface.
Cassius had been in the makeshift shrine room when he had heard the news. Walking swiftly - the distance to the enemy and the intervention of Victorix made it unnecessary to run - the Chaplain crossed the street to the main worker tenement and ascended the narrow stairwells, monitoring the reports of his warriors over the comm. The devastator squads had been in position since their arrival, while the tactical squads fell back to the settlement from their patrol routes, taking up guard stations in the outlying buildings to the west and north.
Cassius emerged onto the flat roof of the dormitory block as Sergeant Capilla and his devastators set themselves along the raised parapet at the roof's edge, overlooking the highway where it crossed the river confluence. Beyond them, Victorix was already several hundred metres along the carriageway, advancing at full speed.
'First enemy wave, three and a half kilometres,' reported the Titan's princeps. 'Enemy is dispersed along the highway and beneath, approaching at speed.'
To the south, on Cassius's left, the low roof of a storehouse lit up with the blue fire of plasma as a Thunderhawk gunship lifted from its makeshift landing site. It soared several hundred metres into the sky before turning west, accelerating towards the incoming tyranids. As the blue flares of its engines grew smaller in the gloom, another light broke the sky: a plume of fire from the carapace of Victorix.
