by Braden Campbell, Mark Clapham, Ben Counter, Chris Dows, Peter Fehervari, Steve Lyons
Suberei was completely exposed to the battering wind and realised that if he were thrown from the machine at this height, he would likely not survive the fall.
He sliced into the base of the gunner’s chair, the frame and its occupant coming away and tumbling backwards into the valley some thirty feet below. Realising what had happened, the enraged clan chief pilot threw the Vyper into a near-vertical climb, forcing the stunned Vengla to scrabble for extra grip with her talons and hurling Suberei over the mangled rear of the vehicle. Grabbing hold of the gunnery platform’s stump, Suberei stabbed down with his power sword and thrust it into the exposed xenos workings, giving himself two handholds instead of one.
The machine tipped and pitched, throwing Suberei from left to right and up and down, but he only grinned. His people were born riders, and he would prove more than a match for this bucking beast. Rolling to the left, the Space Marine kicked out violently with his foot and connected with the rear of the port fin’s tip. A good chunk came away, exposing sparking circuitry and naked framework. The Vyper lurched violently with a sudden loss of control, and Suberei hoped this would convince the pilot to descend.
Sure enough, it did – straight down, in a power dive.
Suberei felt himself become weightless as the arc put him into freefall. The sky tipped upside down, and he lost his grip on the platform stump. Luckily his power sword kept its place buried in the deck, but his wrist popped as it took the sudden weight of his entire body and he crashed into the rear of the cockpit, making the Vyper judder even more as it fell from the sky. Again the pilot flicked the machine from right to left; Suberei was tossed over the broken fin and then the other, the movements too violent for him to grab his pistol and bring it to bear. Instead he concentrated on keeping his grip on the sword, his view flashing from sky to ground to the red of the Vyper itself.
A brief glimpse through the rear window revealed the clan chief struggling with his controls. This pleased Suberei hugely.
The fact he could no longer see Vengla did not.
A hail of shuriken sliced into the deck below Suberei’s gauntlet. Squirming around for a better view, he spotted the Vyper of the opposing kin-band closing rapidly, its own gunner trying to get a shot at Suberei’s arm. It was clear that this eldar wanted its prize alive.
Reacting to the sudden appearance of the competition, the stricken chief piloting Suberei’s reluctant ride tried climbing again but the machine was not up to the challenge. Seeing their advantage, the other crew flew in even closer, the gunner pushing away her console and rotating the frame towards Suberei’s position. Dragging himself back onto the deck, Suberei punched a hole through the cockpit screen in an attempt to strike at the un-helmed pilot, but the clan chief leaned forwards, infuriatingly out of reach.
As the machine flipped to the right, Suberei fell back once again but this time let go of his sword, using the newer, better handhold of the broken cockpit frame while he made a grab for his pistol. He was just bringing it to bear when the other Vyper’s gunner landed right in front of him.
The eldar’s blade buried itself into Suberei’s vambrace, slicing through the armour and into his arm. Suberei roared a Chogorian curse and smashed his fist into the eldar’s helmet. The gunner fell backwards, only her grip on the sword planted in Suberei’s arm saving her from plunging to her doom. Searing pain flamed up from the twisting blade, but Suberei ignored it and let go his grip on the cockpit, grabbing onto the haft of his still-buried sword instead. Staggering sideways, the eldar came with him. At first her feet scrabbled and her free arm flailed, but then she found her balance and reached down to her belt for the dagger sheathed there.
Gritting his teeth, Suberei yanked his skewered arm back, pulling the eldar off-balance again. Bellowing with rage, he spun his body forwards, throwing his arm out at great speed and dislodging the xenos’ blade. The sudden momentum threw the gunner off the platform into free space. She made a brave attempt to grab hold of her own Vyper, which was flying alongside the rival machine, but instead collided with the underside of the rear section. The eldar’s neck snapped backwards at an unnatural angle, her lifeless body sailing out to the rapidly approaching surface.
Steadying himself, Suberei could see the two clan chiefs gesticulating at each other through their canopies, his own pilot nodding something in agreement. Suberei grabbed his bolt pistol and aimed at his pilot’s head, but the Vyper lurched down and his shots went wide, hitting the other machine and striking the armoured canopy. Pulling away and out of danger, the opposing chief kept his distance and a wary eye on Suberei as the Space Marine grabbed for the stump of the gunner’s platform to avoid falling. The craft ducked and weaved.
He roared in defiance, hoping the xenos could hear his words.
‘In the name of the Emperor and the spirit of Jaghatai Khan, Suberei will end your–’
An image flashed into Suberei’s mind, dim at first but then clearer. He closed his eyes.
He could see the sky and the ground, but not from his perspective. In the middle distance was the range of mountains surrounding the eldar encampment, then the two Saim-Hann Vypers drifted into view. One was manoeuvring furiously with a bulky figure – Suberei himself – clinging to its rear, the other keeping pace, one side of its canopy smashed, its pilot’s hair flying wildly in the wind.
The angle steepened, and the hole in the cockpit grew larger as it came closer. Suddenly there was confusion, a burst of movement and a dark shape in the blinding light, then a furious shrieking and screams in an alien tongue. Blood clouded the vision, but then was blinked away, leaving a scarlet wash over the action.
Vengla struck over and over at the clan chief’s eyes. His hands frantically clawed at her, but to no avail. The shrieks became a long scream and the world seemed to tip in on itself.
The image disappeared, and Suberei opened his eyes to see the opposing clan chief’s Vyper bank sharply to the right, its occupant thrashing around in agony. Suberei’s pilot had to stop his destabilising movements to avoid a mid-air collision, before the other machine dived past and ploughed into the ground far below, breaking and rolling in the dirt. As his craft levelled out, Suberei holstered his bolt pistol, hurled himself forwards over the damaged stern, retrieved his power sword with a mighty pull and thrust it into the back of the pilot’s neck.
The grav-machine dropped sharply and spiralled towards a deep ravine between two sloping cliff faces. Suberei pulled his sword from the pilot as he slumped onto his controls. The forward-mounted weapon beneath the prow began firing continuously, spraying the rapidly approaching ground with a hail of shuriken fire. Suberei waited until the whirling machine was only a dozen yards from impact. Then, with a howl of triumph, he leapt clear and crashed awkwardly down the rocky ravine wall.
The Vyper came down harder. Something exploded inside the fuselage before the conflicting energies of its damaged gravitic drives detonated the machine in a shower of fractured crimson pieces.
Suberei did not wait to see if the other xenos from the camp would come to investigate; he needed to get his information back to the Imperial forces. As he limped away as quickly as he could, a shadow flashed overhead then circled around him once.
‘Vengla! Come to Suberei!’
Nothing.
As he slowed his pace, Suberei’s delight was slowly clouded by concern. Why was the cyber-eagle not calling to signal her return? Had she perhaps seen a massed enemy group pouring out of the ravine between the mountains to find them? No. She would have shared that vision with him. Was she injured? Again, he would have sensed that.
Then, as she suddenly appeared, he laughed heartily at the reason for her silence.
‘Suberei extends his thanks to you, proud friend. Now, enjoy your feast.’
In her beak were two glistening orbs dangling from red, dripping stalks.
The eyes of the other Vyper pilot.
The two had travelled over sixty miles before the first eldar patrol went overhead. This did not
surprise him. He had no doubt the deaths of the clan chiefs would have thrown the Saim-Hann forces into disarray, and it was likely that they had wasted precious time trying to coordinate themselves. As he hid and observed from cover, he saw a single Vyper attack and cripple two jetbikes from opposing clans in a surprise attack, and it became obvious that the conflict between them had escalated significantly. Suberei and Vengla were able to skulk and slide their way further and further from the eldar encampment, unnoticed.
Why had the xenos become so fractious? Was it something he had missed? Something to do with this world in particular?
Suberei realised that it did not matter.
Finding a suitably high location, he sent a message by coded data-burst back to the forward Imperial lines. Once acknowledged, he made his way down to the great black plains once more, but instead of continuing his journey he took a seat on a large granite outcropping and considered his situation.
‘The Militarum forces are mobilising as we speak, Vengla. Our work is done. But Suberei has one last mission to fulfil before we leave this accursed planet.’
The sounds of battle thundered in the distance as Suberei surveyed the scene from the bottom of the canyon. Flurries of rock and stone fell around him, but he took no notice. Perched above and to the left of the buried bike, Vengla shifted her weight from foot to foot then launched herself into the air, swooping low over what remained of the ledge partially buried under glistening black rubble.
Suberei closed his eyes and surveyed the scene through her vision. Spotting an exposed lip large enough to support him, he calculated the best way up to it without bringing yet more rocks down and followed the route as carefully as his power armour would allow. Vengla remained airborne all the while to keep watch, though it seemed that the Imperial forces had the eldar contained.
Suberei studied the way in which the rocks had fallen. Most of them had settled towards the top of the sloping rubble, and a few swift kicks had them crashing down into the valley below. He was rewarded with a small patch of dull grey metal he immediately identified as the exhausts. Good. At least the bike hadn’t been flattened beyond recognition.
One large boulder held the rest of the landslide in place, so Suberei put his right shoulder to its massive rough side and pushed as hard as he could. Straining with the effort, he felt his arm throb, but kept on going until the rock began to move. Slowly, it ground its way towards the ledge until gravity finally took hold and it toppled over. Waiting for the loose shale to clear, Suberei moved through the choking black dust to inspect the damage to his now exposed bike. The front guard was badly dented and the barrel of one bolter fouled with grit, but miraculously, it appeared intact.
There was, of course, only one way to be sure.
Dragging it free from the smaller rocks, Suberei brushed the dust from the saddle and mounted it. He jabbed the starter and the engine spluttered and complained. He grunted, and stepped back to inspect the grimy systems.
He cleaned and adjusted the fuel injectors as best he could, then climbed back on and tried again. His reward was a throaty roar and clouds of dirty smoke spewing from the rear.
With a cry of delight, Suberei rolled the bike slowly forwards, allowing pieces of rock to work their way from under the front and rear wheel housings. Gradually increasing speed, he followed the still fragile ledge upwards. A more cautious rider might have decided to take a longer, safer route to ensure that their machine had no hidden damage that could prove fatal to the rider at high speeds, but not Jetek Suberei. Pulling back fully on the throttle, the bike leaped forwards, eating up the space to the sheer drop. Faster and faster he went, and wider and wider his grin became until he finally launched himself skywards.
The landing on the plains wasn’t the most elegantly executed, but it served to shake the last few bits of stubborn debris from the frame. Slamming on the brakes and skidding sideways to a halt, Suberei revelled in the raw power of the bike as it idled beneath him.
There was now only one thing missing. With a squawk of welcome, his cyber-eagle dropped onto her perch behind her master. Suberei revved the engine as she settled.
‘Come, Vengla. Let us away.’
DEATHWATCH 7: City of Ruin
Ian St. Martin
Not a single breath has left my body but in service to the House.
The words echoed through Sai’s head, offered no challenge by the howling of the wind. From the spire’s terrace he beheld the metropolis of Pomarii tumbling out across the plains in a breathtaking expanse of gridlines and hab blocks.
Billions of people lived, toiled and died below him, but all he could see was his mother’s face, and the glacial reserve engraved in her features.
As the lone male heir of House Trigarta, the course of Sai’s existence had been decided and regimented from the day he first drew breath. Of all the opulence and luxury that life within a House of the Navis Nobilite afforded, choice had been a delicacy too rare to taste. While his sisters took to the stars, guiding the fleets of the Imperium, Sai remained cloistered, shut away from anything that might threaten the continuance of the bloodline.
He had sailed through the Sea of Souls to arrive here on Basatani, to be received by the emissaries of House Velon. Sai’s future was decided, an arranged marriage with a daughter of Velon to maintain alliances that had existed before man had first set foot on Basatani, and nearly as long as the Imperium itself. Sai would never shepherd a vessel through the Immaterium. Despite the priceless value of a Navigator’s curse, he was consigned to be little more than a breeder.
He would never even open his eye.
Every beat of my heart has been for the survival of the House, Lady Trigarta had said as Sai departed for Basatani. And now, so must yours. He had excused himself from the pomp of the reception, seeking a rare opportunity to be entirely alone.
But the tension in the city below was palpable even from these heights. War had descended over the entire sector, which was in the grip of a xenos invasion, or so he had been told. Sai had only just arrived when the aliens began their assault. Safe within the system’s core worlds defensive line, Basatani had avoided the bloodshed thus far.
Other than lessons in naval and military history taught to him by his tutors, he had no experience of war, or of any of the myriad xenos races that opposed the Imperium of Man. His life had been insulated from such things, the perils of the galaxy rendered inert on the pages of parchment scrolls and dataslates.
Sai looked up. The terrace and spire were draped in shadow, drawing his gaze to Basatani’s star. The blazing sphere was masked in an eclipse, and a brief smile crept across the youth’s face as he beheld it.
Then his wonder chilled into ice that crept up his spine. He looked closer as klaxons began to wail in the distance. He remembered his study of this world in the long months of his journey…
Basatani did not have any moons.
The eclipse grew darker, casting the spire and all of Pomarii into deeper shadow. The object continued to swell, growing larger, and Sai’s eyes widened as it caught fire.
There was a noise like the sky ripping open. The intense heat of the atmospheric plunge stripped away pieces of debris from the object, which arced downwards on columns of fire. Stone fragments the size of hab towers smashed into the city in shattering explosions. Individual sounds ceased to be. Numberless impacts and the din of destruction swelled and overlapped into a monstrous cacophony like the roaring of a nightmarish ocean. Tremors rocked the spire. Sai grabbed hold of the railing of the terrace and crouched behind it. He shrank against the thunder of explosions as debris rained down, demolishing entire city blocks below.
Sai touched a hand to the elaborate headdress he wore, carved into the image of angels with platinum wings swept protectively over his mutation. His third eye throbbed and pulsed beneath the covering. He peered over the railing upon the city. A swelling cloud of dust from the impacts boiled over the metropolis like churning fog. It rose, billowing and licking at the roots
of the central spires but failing to reach their height.
His gaze lifted from the shrouded devastation below, and ice plunged into his veins.
A gargantuan meteor of blazing rock and jagged metal, far larger than anything else that had fallen, broke through the clouds, descending towards Pomarii like the fist of a livid god. Flickering streams of fire from the city’s defence batteries carved ineffectual scars into it, and hasty arrows of fighter craft hurtled out from hangar bays, rising to intercept the looming colossus.
Sai’s breath caught in his throat as the meteor responded. Clouds of ordnance lashed out in all directions, and the fighters blinked away in tiny sunbursts.
This was no meteor. Someone, or something, was controlling it.
It was a ship, and it was not slowing down.
The hulk began to tumble, rolling slowly like a great ocean leviathan as it hurtled towards the city. Fire-wreathed debris continued its hellish rain, obliterating spires and reducing entire city blocks to rubble.
Sai of House Trigarta realised that he was going to die at the top of this spire, on a world he did not know, for a reason he would never understand.
Rodricus Grytt stood in the scarlet light of the Thunderhawk as he was armoured for battle. Robed thralls and servitors surrounded him, anchoring massive plates of ceramite over the Space Marine’s genhanced musculature. The war-plate was the deep black of the void, save for the silver bearing the insignia of the Deathwatch riveted onto his left arm and shoulder. The only thing to hint at his Chapter allegiance was the gold livery of the Imperial Fists on his right pauldron. The jet fist of Dorn was scarred and singed from recent battle, the deepest gouges still stained with the blood of brothers and foes alike.
