by Ray Harrison
‘Balinor?’ he said, his voice hoarse. ‘Vayn? Acknowledge?’
‘Still here, my lord.’ Balinor was lying not far from where Helbrecht stood. He got to his feet slowly. Flames were steadily consuming his tabard. He batted at them irritably.
‘Vayn?’ Helbrecht called again.
‘Aye,’ came the reply. Vayn staggered into view. His helm was a shattered mess, and his right arm terminated in a ragged stump just below his elbow. Half-clotted blood blotted the ice at his feet. Vayn pulled the remains of his helm from his head and dropped it.
‘Still here. Mostly,’ he managed, teeth chattering as his armour’s systems pumped coagulants and painkillers into his bloodstream.
‘Can you fight?’ Helbrecht said.
Vayn smiled through the blood on his face.
‘I can still hold a sword.’
Balinor was watching the wreckage of Unyielding burn.
‘Should I try and raise another transport, my lord?’
Helbrecht shook his head.
‘No,’ he said. ‘The skies belong to the enemy.’ He pointed with his sword in the direction of Blight’s Edge. ‘We walk.’
Garel’s ‘way in’ turned out to be a maintenance tunnel that led through the outpost’s outer wall. It looked as though it hadn’t been used for decades. The shielding that covered the entrance was rusted shut and rimed with ice. Garel kicked the metal cover over and over, bending it away from the frame. The noise echoed in the shadow of the wall that loomed above them. Aergard and Thibaut kept watch.
In the far distance, monoliths of black stone bore inexorably down upon the Black Templars like an oncoming thunderhead. They were xenos constructs, raised up and guided across the battlefield by the hand of the enemy. Coruscating energy lashed from their capstones, raking claws of light across the sky. Everything that the light touched was obliterated. The Space Marines would not last long outside the walls once the monoliths reached them.
‘Quicker would be better,’ Thibaut said.
‘You are welcome to help,’ Garel snarled, between kicks.
‘If it is going to require two of us to get that panel off, I would start to worry about our chances of success here,’ Thibaut replied.
‘Quiet, both of you,’ Aergard said. His vox pick-up stammered in his ear. Between bursts of static, there was a familiar voice.
‘Reques… deple… into the outpost… pinn…’
Behind the voice there were sounds of furious gunfire and shouting.
‘Can you hear that?’ Aergard said, looking to his brothers. ‘It sounds like Leoric. Struggling.’
‘Leoric?’ Thibaut said. ‘Biting off more than he can chew? I am surprised.’
Garel snorted a laugh.
Aergard replied on the same channel, not even sure if Leoric would be able to hear it.
‘Hold your ground, brother,’ he said. ‘We will come to you.’
‘What are you doing?’ Garel asked.
Aergard looked to Garel and Thibaut. His armour’s systems had approximated the location of Leoric’s broadcast. He was inside the outpost.
‘Leoric’s position lies between us and our target. We can aid him.’
‘What about the standard?’ Garel said.
Aergard stared at his brother.
‘I will not abandon Leoric to die.’
Garel stopped kicking and stared back.
‘Leoric is not our concern. The Marshal’s standard is.’
There was no trace of cruelty in Garel’s tone, just cold dismissal. Aergard thought about Lidas pinned to the ice, dying. His own conscience would not be so easily dismissed.
‘Leoric and his squad are inside the outpost. So is the standard. We can aid him without forsaking our duty.’
‘You tell yourself that, if you wish,’ Garel said.
Aergard wasn’t about to let Garel goad him.
‘I do not need to. I am telling you.’ Aergard said, evenly. ‘Leoric is our brother. Our blood. I will not waste his life when we have lost so much already. We will offer Leoric what aid we can, then we will find the standard, free Evrain and return to cleansing this frozen hell.’
Garel looked at Aergard for several heartbeats, then shrugged.
‘As you say.’
Aergard could hear the dissent in Garel’s tone. He chose to ignore it.
Garel turned away and planted his foot hard into the maintenance panel again, and it gave way, dropping to the ground with a crash.
Aergard stepped into the tunnel. In the periphery of his vision, another locator rune blinked alongside the first. One for Leoric. One for Evrain.
Another brother. Another life.
Another oath.
‘We are not alone,’ Helbrecht growled.
The three Space Marines were on foot, moving towards Blight’s Edge. Helbrecht had sent a company-wide vox broadcast calling all Black Templars forces on the surface to the outpost, with the intent that they could regroup and strike back at the necrons.
The number of Black Templars capable of responding was unsettlingly small.
Vayn and Balinor held position on either side of Helbrecht, the honour-chains that bound their weapons to their armour clicking together softly in the freezing wind.
‘I see nothing, my lord,’ Balinor said in a low voice.
Helbrecht narrowed his eyes.
‘Neither do I,’ Helbrecht said. ‘But we are being watched.’
The Black Templars were moving through an area that had been abandoned when the necrons had made planetfall. Huge pieces of mining equipment stood stationary, rimed with frost and creaking in the ice planet’s unceasing wind. There were bodies, too. Frozen hands reached to the sky with blackened fingers. Blood had become mirrors of red glass. Not all of the human workers had abandoned their machines quickly enough. Helbrecht scowled.
‘We move,’ Helbrecht said, eyes on the long shadows cast by the machines. ‘But keep your eyes open.’
The three Space Marines moved as one through the graveyard of machinery. In the distance, Blight’s Edge reared up from the ice, wreathed in smoke.
‘I would dearly like to know where the bastards have disappeared to,’ Balinor voxed. ‘I grow tired of fighting shadows.’
‘Perhaps they have fallen back to Blight’s Edge,’ Vayn said.
Helbrecht didn’t look at his brothers. He kept his eyes on his surroundings.
‘They armour themselves with cowardice,’ he said. ‘It will not protect them. Wherever they hide, we will seek them out and then we will destroy them. In His name.’
‘In His na–’ Balinor’s reply was cut short. A burst of blood issued from his throat, and the Sword Brother fell to his knees. The vox channel was filled with the sound of Balinor choking to death.
‘Sniper!’ Vayn cried out. He immediately dragged Balinor into cover.
Helbrecht saw it then, in the shadow of a mining drill.
The necron sniper almost seemed a part of the shadow, save for the glow from its emerald eye. In a heartbeat, Helbrecht brought up his own bolter and fired. The darkness gathered around the creature as the bolts hit home. Helbrecht heard a machine-squeal and the necron dematerialised, leaving behind the smell of ozone and traces of smoke from the bolter fire.
Wherever the creature had conjured itself away to, it was hurting.
Helbrecht turned to Vayn, who was kneeling beside Balinor.
‘Does he live?’ the Marshal asked through gritted teeth.
Vayn said nothing. He just shook his head.
Helbrecht exhaled slowly. Another life lost.
Without an Apothecary present, Helbrecht was the one who had to retrieve Balinor’s gene-seed. It was the least he could do for him now. The gene-seed in Balinor’s throat had been destroyed, but the secondary implant in his chest had survived. I
t was a small mercy.
‘Emperor keep your soul, brother,’ he said. He bowed his head, making the sign of the aquila with his bloody hands.
The maintenance tunnel led further on into the outpost than they had initially thought.
On the far side of the walls it had branched into a network of underground passages, mine shafts and cramped hab units. Everywhere there were signs of conflict. In places, the tunnel had partially collapsed. Aergard stepped past scorched bones clad in the blasted remains of carapace armour. The mortals had died defending this place. There was something admirable about that.
After some time, they had started to climb, heading for the last position that Leoric had been broadcasting from, which turned out to be an unremarkable building called the Chapel of the Emperor’s Benevolence.
The three Space Marines watched from the broken window of a third-floor hab unit as Leoric and his brothers defended the chapel. Outside, fifteen necron warriors kept up a relentless hail of fire, blasting holes in the building’s crumbling facade. Leoric’s squad retaliated, firing through gaps in the hastily built barricades and broken windows. The necrons were advancing slowly.
Patiently.
‘Leoric,’ Aergard said over the vox. ‘We can see your position now.’
The vox signal was much better at close range. It crackled, and then Leoric spoke.
‘It is good to hear your voice, brother. Is the Marshal with you?’
Aergard sighed.
‘No, his path takes him elsewhere,’ Aergard said. ‘There are three of us.’
Leoric made a noise that suggested he didn’t think three would be enough.
‘It is not like you to be held up by a handful, brother,’ Thibaut said with a smile in his voice.
The tone of Leoric’s reply was not as jovial.
‘They have been attacking for hours. As soon as we put them down, more arrive to replace them.’
In the background of the transmission, Aergard could hear hymns being sung by human voices.
Aergard frowned. ‘You have mortals under your protection.’
‘The alternative did not feel very honourable,’ Leoric said.
Behind Aergard, Garel was watching the necron advance with cold detachment.
‘He should have abandoned the mortals to die,’ Garel said, softly.
Aergard ignored him.
‘We will cut the necrons down while they focus on you. Once they have turned their attention to us that should give you and your squad respite enough to join the fray. Send the mortals to shelter in the crypt, if there is one. We will not be able to protect them if the necrons manage to breach the walls.’
‘Turned their attention to us,’ Thibaut repeated. ‘That almost makes it sound amicable.’
Aergard shot Thibaut a look. The other Space Marine just shrugged, managing to look amused despite the impassive mask of his faceplate.
‘That sounds as good a plan as any,’ Leoric said. ‘My thanks, brother.’
Aergard smiled humourlessly.
‘You can thank me when all the necrons are dead.’
Leoric terminated the link. Aergard nodded to Thibaut and Garel.
‘Leave none alive.’
They saluted in reply.
All three Space Marines leapt from the window, falling to the roadway below.
Garel landed first, his leap taking him the farthest. He landed on top of one of the necrons with a clang of armour and metal, knocking it flat. Garel hacked at the creature messily, sparks flying.
Aergard was already on his feet, laying about himself with his sword. The powered blade sang as he killed, a melody of crackling power fields and rending metal.
Thibaut threw himself at one of the necrons, shoulder barging it and knocking out its aim. He jammed the muzzle of his bolter against the creature’s torso and fired. Green light flared angrily as the necron’s systems shorted out. Its ruined remains disappeared before they hit the roadway.
‘I think they have turned their attention to us now!’ Thibaut shouted over the deafening racket of bolters firing and gauss weapons discharging.
One of the remaining necrons turned and fired at Aergard. He threw himself aside, the beam glancing him just barely. It gouged a furrow in his armour that cut clean down to his bodyglove.
Straight through the ceramite.
‘Hells,’ Aergard swore, getting to his feet. He raised his bolter to fire, but the necron was engulfed in flame before he pulled the trigger.
Leoric’s squad were coming over the barricades.
‘No pity! No remorse!’ Leoric roared.
‘No fear!’ Aergard, Thibaut and Garel finished their Chapter’s battle cry as one.
Helbrecht and Vayn had found their brothers.
The outpost of Blight’s Edge was encircled on all sides by a deep ravine, like the moat of an ancient castle. Bridges of ice crossed over the ravine, linking the outpost to the mainland. Once there had been many such bridges, but now only one remained, and it was heavily defended.
There were legions of necrons inside the outpost, and yet more standing outside it like statues, frost hardening on their metal skeletons. Overhead, necron aircraft tore across the sky. Huge arachnid constructs traversed the walls of the outpost. Hundreds of soulless green eyes stared out from Blight’s Edge, waiting.
The Black Templars had rallied, just as Helbrecht had ordered, but with the bridge held by the enemy, and the necrons controlling the skies, they couldn’t get into Blight’s Edge to liberate it.
‘We will not push across the bridge this way,’ Helbrecht said. He had pulled his forces back to limit casualties and gathered a conclave of warriors to him. They needed to change their approach or none of them would make it off-world.
Helbrecht cursed himself, not for the first time, for sending Aergard away. His champion had always given him good counsel.
Now, for all the Marshal knew, Aergard was as dead as Balinor.
‘We are wearing them thin,’ Jenovar said. The Sword Brethren veteran was notoriously stubborn, and his armour bore the scars to prove it. ‘We can take the bridge.’
Beside Helbrecht, Vayn snorted disdainfully.
‘How many times have you tried to storm the bridge, Jenovar?’ Helbrecht asked.
The veteran’s hands curled into fists at his side.
‘Three,’ he said, begrudgingly.
‘You have fought valiantly.’ Helbrecht kept his voice neutral. He would not win the man to his cause by hurting his pride. ‘But we will not take the bridge this way.’
‘Can we not call in aid from the Eternal Crusader?’ Ideus was only an initiate, but he showed great promise. He had rallied the rest of his squad when their sergeant was killed, kept them fighting and bolstered their faith. ‘We could bombard the city from orbit, and renew our offensive once the necrons are weakened.’
Helbrecht shook his head.
‘It would do us no good,’ he said. ‘The complex runs deep into the ice. Short of cracking the planet, we could not flush them out with orbital strikes. Besides, the machinery and resources inside Blight’s Edge are valuable. We must save as much of the outpost as we can.’
‘For the good of the few humans who yet live, and the cryonite mines?’ Jenovar said with disdain. ‘It hardly seems a worthy prize for the lives we have lost already.’
Helbrecht stared at him. Jenovar wilted visibly under his gaze.
‘The Imperium lives and dies in the hands of all humanity,’ Helbrecht said, quietly. ‘They may not have our strength, but that does not make them worthless.’
Jenovar bowed his head, contrite.
Helbrecht looked to Blight’s Edge. The sky above the outpost was thick with choking black smoke.
‘If we cannot take the bridge, then we must find an alternative route,’ he said. ‘This world is
a warren of mines and passageways. We will pass under the ice and cleanse the outpost with bolters and blades. From the foundations up.’
‘If we all disappear from the surface they will know we have gone to the mines,’ Vayn said.
Helbrecht nodded.
‘That is why I will remain here to lead a final assault on the ice bridge. I will hold their focus for as long as is necessary, until the mines are taken.’
‘My lord, surely another would be better placed to do this? You said yourself that an assault on the bridge cannot hope to succeed,’ Jenovar said. His meaning was clear. He wanted to stay on the surface and prove it could be done.
That was precisely why he couldn’t be allowed to do so.
‘I need you to lead our brothers into the mines in my stead,’ Helbrecht said.
Jenovar bowed. ‘Aye, my lord.’
Ideus dropped to his knees, laying his sword flat across the palm of his gauntlet. ‘I offer you my blade, my lord. I would stay with you on the surface.’
Helbrecht almost smiled.
‘I suspect I will need all the blades I can get,’ he said. ‘Rally your brothers, Ideus.’ He caught sight of Balinor’s dried blood on his gauntlets.
‘It is time to turn the tide of this war.’
The last of the necrons phased out with an otherworldly whine that made Aergard’s teeth ache.
‘More will come,’ Garel said quietly. ‘We should leave before we get caught up in another fire fight that we can ill afford.’
Aergard knew he was right.
It was time for Leoric to make a decision. He could not hold the chapel indefinitely and they could no longer stay to aid him. They had another task to complete.
‘I will speak with him,’ Aergard said. He picked his way through the makeshift barricades and entered the chapel. Inside, a group of humans sat around a fire. The smoke was making them cough. The sound echoed in the vaulted space. One of Leoric’s squad, a neophyte named Anguis, was sitting beside the men and women. He was leading them in prayer.
‘He cares too much.’ Leoric’s voice was hoarse from shouting in battle. ‘It will get him killed.’
Aergard chuckled humourlessly.
‘Garel said much the same about you.’
