The Purging of Kadillus

by Gav Thorpe

  The psyker’s face changed. The features did not alter, but the Librarian’s muscles twitched and took on a different cant, approximating another’s face: Azrael, Grand Master of the Dark Angels. The jaw was set firmly, lips thin, cheeks drawn in. When Charon spoke, it was with the voice of the Chapter’s commander, his mouth twisting in imitation of Azrael’s mannerisms.

  ‘Master Belial. I do not have to press upon you the importance of the situation on Piscina. Know that it is my will that this world is denied to the orks, at any cost. I have faith in you and your company, and you should know that deliverance from these foul beasts is almost at hand. The Techmarines believe they have identified an area of space that is the source of the teleportation beam bringing reinforcements to the planet. It is my belief that at least one ork-occupied hulk is in the system, and carries forces that will test the strength of the entire Chapter. The orks must not be allowed to gain a significant hold on Piscina. If your best efforts and greatest sacrifices are not sufficient to contain the alien menace, it is imperative that the orks be denied a landing in true strength. I trust that you will take any measures to ensure this.’

  Azrael-Charon’s face turned away for a moment and then returned its unearthly gaze to Belial.

  ‘You will receive confirmation of these orders by standard communication before my arrival. Praise the Lion.’

  Shuddering again, Charon let out an explosive breath and slumped forwards. Opening his eyes, he looked at Belial with his normal face.

  ‘I take it from your expression that you comprehend the intent of the Grand Master’s command,’ said the Librarian.

  ‘I do, brother,’ Belial replied with a nod. ‘It is better that Kadillus is destroyed than fall into the hands of our enemies.’

  ‘Very well, brother,’ Charon said. He stood up and bowed his head in deference. ‘I will leave you to make the necessary preparations for that event, and the means by which we might avoid it.’

  Belial’s eyes followed Charon’s back as the psyker left through the heavy door. A blinking light on the comm panel attracted his attention.

  ‘You heard that, Revered Venerari,’ said the company master.

  ‘I did, brother.’

  ‘Why is it that he felt it necessary to remind me of my duty?’

  ‘Do not take it as an admonishment. Lord Azrael wishes you to know that you have his full support for whatever actions you take.’

  ‘We will not fail. We are Astartes.’

  ‘The Lion is with us, brother. In his name we will triumph.’

  The light winked out and Belial was left with the comms-tech. The youth, his face impassive, turned to the captain.

  ‘Do you have any further orders, master?’

  Belial thought for a moment, fingers stroking his chin.

  ‘Send for the gunnery captains. They have preparations to make.’

  Half a dozen serfs bustled around the terminals of the operations chamber, moving from one console to the next as they calibrated the comms arrays and updated the scanner data for the digimap. Belial stood immobile amongst the activity; now clad in his dark green armour, power sword at his waist, an ivory-coloured robe hanging to his knees, red Deathwing icon embroidered upon the left side of its chest. Charon and Uriel were with him, sitting patiently at the display slate.

  Through the murmurings of the serfs Belial could hear the reports from the ongoing fighting in Kadillus Harbour. The company commander listened subconsciously to the fragments of information being related by the Space Marines and Piscinan officers around the docks and power plant, content that nothing had significantly changed. He had issued orders for the Emperor’s forces to hold their positions and continue to contain Ghazghkull’s army so that he could devote his full attention to the upcoming Ravenwing mission.

  Now and then he delivered a short series of orders into the comm-piece hung on the collar of his armour: directing squads to areas that were weak, or replacing fatigued troops with fresher forces. He did this without effort or reference to the digimap, his conscious thoughts contemplating the situation at the East Barrens plant.

  Validus’s voice cut through the others from the main speaker.

  ‘Five kilometres from target.’

  ‘Filter all other transmissions,’ said Belial as he sat down in the command throne.

  He shared a glance with Charon and Uriel. All three turned their attention to the holo-display. A flickering rune denoting the land speeder squadron moved across the representation of Kadillus east of Koth Ridge.

  ‘Activating long-range augur. Ravenwing-Two, increase separation to one hundred metres. Sequenced upload of scan data commencing.’

  The hololith strobed for a few seconds, the rendered topography of Kadillus warping as the stream of data was integrated into the display. When the image had settled Belial could see several clusters of fresh runes dotting the hillside ahead of the land speeder squadron.

  Timing was the key. The Ravenwing squadron had three tasks to complete: locate the enemy forces around the landing site, provide on-ground targeting links for the Thunderhawk attack, and engage the air-defence weapons that had shot down the company’s other gunship.

  ‘Belial to Hephaestus. Launch gunship and begin atmospheric descent.’

  ‘Confirm, brother-captain,’ replied the Techmarine. ‘Launching in five seconds. Attack route established. Weapons armed.’

  ‘Scanner returns increasing in density.’ Belial could sense the tension in Validus’s voice. ‘Identification problematic. Whatever the orks have done to the power station, it is causing havoc with the augur. Ork vehicles present, category unknown. Visual confirmation required.’

  ‘Gunship launched, brother-captain,’ said Hephaestus. ‘Decreasing orbital velocity to six kilometres per second. Gravitic grip deployed. Atmospheric breach in three minutes. Time at target will be eighteen minutes.’

  Two metres above the digital surface of Piscina, a small icon representing Hephaestus’s Thunderhawk appeared. It hovered in the air, far too distant for its speed to be scaled down to the display. Belial touched the comm activation rune on the panel set into the tablet in front of him.

  ‘This is Belial to Validus. Gunship is on its way. Update on scanner and comms interference from the ork modifications. Do not engage enemy.’

  The commander tapped a finger on the display slate while he waited for his message to relay down to the surface and the Ravenwing sergeant’s reply to return to the battle-barge.

  ‘Was it wise to launch the gunship before target confirmation, brother?’ said Uriel. ‘There will be little opportunity to abort the mission if there are no–’

  Validus’s voice cut through before the Chaplain could finish. Belial held up his hand, silencing Uriel.

  ‘Interference is resonating from volcanic deposits,’ said Validus. ‘We will have a clearer signal once we clear the ridge. Orders, brother-captain?’

  Belial checked the chronometer.

  ‘We have fifteen minutes until last-chance abort of mission, brother. Enemy must not be alerted to your presence. Cross the ridge in six minutes and provide report. Engage enemy defences in thirteen minutes. Confirm.’ The company commander looked through the translucent hololith at Uriel. ‘If we wait for confirmation, the delay from launch to attack is too long and would allow the orks to respond to the presence of the Ravenwing. Pre-arranged, absolute abort signal is “Angel’s fall” and every member of the squadron is authorised to issue it. Hephaestus will re-direct to Northport the moment that code is issued, without compromise.’

  Excitement was growing inside Belial. Though he was not directly involved, he could feel the familiar rush of battle building up. Calling on decades of training and experience, he kept himself calm and held back the urge for action. It was Belial’s patience that had first made him suitable for command, and he needed every ounce of that same patience during this critical mission.

  He barely heard Validus’s confirmation message as he considered the pos
sible outcomes and options that would unfold over the next fifteen minutes. Like an actor rehearsing his lines, Belial ran through different scenarios and his responses: what he would do if the ork numbers proved too few to be worthy of attack; his orders to Hephaestus if contact with the Ravenwing was lost; targeting priorities if there was sufficient enemy presence to warrant the completion of the mission; the threat threshold of enemy defences he considered too much of a risk to the Thunderhawk if Validus deferred the abort option to his commander.

  All of this and much more Belial considered and analysed and streamlined so that he would be ready whatever happened. Detached from the action, the stimulants coursing through the captain’s system bombarded the neurons firing in his brain rather than flooding his limbs with physical power. Each and every consideration was crisp and precise, analysed in detail and memorised for future recall. Every thought opened up a sequence of possible consequences, which brought on further thoughts. A cascade of decisions, probable outcomes and subsequent decisions filled Belial’s mind.

  He looked sharply at Charon, his heightened awareness drawn by a slight movement from the Librarian. Charon returned Belial’s focussed glare with a calm expression. The Librarian darted a glance at Belial’s armoured hands, which were clenched into fists atop the display slab.

  Belial’s nostrils flared as he took a deep breath. He relaxed his hands, interlocking his fingers in front of him. He smiled at Charon and signalled his gratitude with the slightest dip of his head.

  The Master of the 3rd Company looked at the chronometer. Two more minutes had passed.

  ‘Time on target, six minutes,’ reported Hephaestus. ‘Undergoing atmospheric braking and energy capture. Weapons test arming complete. Awaiting targeting data from the ground.’

  Belial checked the holo-display. The Thunderhawk was levelling out of its steep descent and blazing towards the East Barrens at several times the speed of sound. Validus’s squadron had encountered scattered ork infantry but had swept through the patrols and were due to crest the ridge above the geothermal plant at any moment. He looked at the comms panel in anticipation.

  ‘Validus to Master Belial. Enemy casualties at sixteen, no friendly casualties. We will achieve unimpeded augur coverage and visual sighting of the enemy in ten seconds. Energy waveform matches that of the teleporter prior to your removal of the relay device, brother-captain. It is reasonable to assume that the enemy have restored their previous level of reinforcement.’

  There was a crackle of static, most likely caused by an inter-squad communication.

  ‘Collate squad comms,’ Belial told the technicians. They fussed at their dials and switches for a few seconds before the voices of the Ravenwing pilots and gunners hissed over the speakers.

  ‘…earing due east, brother-sergeant. Three enemy light transports heading directly to our position.’

  ‘What of the air defences, brother?’ This was from Validus.

  ‘Negative at the moment. Medium-calibre weapons and… Wait! There is something behind the power plant. Moving south-east for a better view.’ The silence made the seconds creep past. ‘What is that?’

  Another voice cut through.

  ‘Sergeant, have visual sighting on a vehicle-mounted rocket battery. Two of them, in that stand of trees eighteen hundred metres north-east.’

  The first voice returned.

  ‘Brother-sergeant! Sizeable missile system located south-east of the geothermal station. Looks to be anti-air capable, but who can say for sure with ork technology?’

  More hissing from overlapping comm-frequencies filled the room. Everyone, Space Marine and serf, was frozen in place, awaiting the next report. Hephaestus’s deep voice resounded around the chamber.

  ‘This is Hephaestus. Weapons armed. Target sighted. Final manoeuvring for attack run. Lock-on in fifty seconds.’

  Belial checked the chronometer ag ain. It was twenty-eight seconds until Hephaestus could pull out of his attack run and avoid any defences at the East Barrens plant. He decided against signalling Validus for a decision – by the time the message reached the Ravenwing sergeant and was answered there would only be a few seconds to issue an order to the plunging Thunderhawk. He had to trust Validus’s judgement.

  Nothing was said for three seconds and then Validus broke the quiet.

  ‘Ravenwing-One to Hephaestus. Angel’s fall! I repeat, angel’s fall! Enemy air defence too dense. Abort attack run.’

  Belial could imagine the roar of retro-jets firing as the Techmarine hastily altered course. The glowing sigil in the hololith turned sharply as the gunship banked away from the power plant.

  ‘Hephaestus to Master Belial. Abort code received, abandoning attack run. Redirecting to Northport landing facility. Weapons deactivated. Awaiting further orders.’

  A tense silence filled the operations chamber. It was broken by a broadcast from Validus.

  ‘Ravenwing-One to Master Belial. Enemy are responding to our presence in strength. What are your orders?’

  Belial activated the comm in front of him.

  ‘Perform a recon sweep of enemy forces as best you can and withdraw. Take up preparatory position fifteen kilometres west of the East Barrens station and await further instruction. Confirm.’

  The company master sighed and looked at Charon. The Librarian’s expression gave away nothing of his thoughts. Uriel was gently rapping the knuckles of his gloved hand against the edge of the display desk, a sign of frustration.

  ‘Ravenwing-One to Master Belial. Confirm orders. Withdrawing fifteen kilometres west. Avoiding contact with enemy.’

  ‘So that is the end of that,’ growled Uriel. ‘What do we do now? Validus has confirmed that the orks have been able to connect the Barrak Gorge power plant to their teleporter and reinforcements have resumed. It is only a matter of time before the orks feel they have enough strength to attack again.’

  Belial said nothing. He bowed his head as he thought, avoiding the inquiring gazes of Uriel and Charon.

  ‘You have the Grand Master’s orders, brother.’ The Librarian’s words were quiet but insistent.

  Still silent, Belial adjusted the display controls to widen the scope of the hololith, until it showed the huge area encompassing Kadillus Harbour, Koth Ridge, Barrak Gorge, Indola and the East Barrens station. He looked at it for some time, staring at the runes highlighting the last reported sightings and strength of the orks.

  He sighed and rubbed his chin. Only now did he meet Charon’s purposeful gaze.

  ‘I am not yet ready to concede Piscina to the orks,’ said the company captain.

  ‘Then you will prepare for bombardment, brother,’ replied Charon.

  ‘Not yet.’ Belial shook his head and stood. ‘There is still one path we can explore. An aerial assault has been ruled out, but we are not without other weapons.’

  Belial spread a hand across the Dark Angel figure emblazoned on his chest plastron.

  ‘Ever since the orks arrived we have been trying to keep the enemy at bay. No more. I see now what we should have done from the outset. We are Space Marines! We are the sharp tip of the Emperor’s spear; the cutting blade of the Emperor’s sword. We attack, surely and swiftly, and sweep all before us. Ghazghkull has made us a garrison, a defence force, and we have paid the price for allowing that. No more! We will do what we were trained to do; the purpose for which we were created. We attack!’

  He pointed at the ork dispositions on the display, his gauntleted hand passing into the fuzzy hologram.

  ‘While our forces have been stretched thin, we should not over-estimate the strength of the enemy or the concentration of their force. They have been defeated at Koth Ridge and paid a heavy price for their assault. Though Boreas ultimately failed us at Barrak Gorge, the orks suffered there also. We cannot be disheartened by the setbacks we have endured, for the enemy have not had such success that they are guaranteed victory.

  ‘It took the orks several days to build up the army they needed to attack Koth R
idge. If we strike now while they are divided, while fresh forces are still arriving, we can capture the East Barrens geothermal station. I saw for myself the slow progress of their reinforcements. If we cannot shut down the teleporter in its entirety, we can establish a position of strength overlooking their arrival zone and destroy them as they arrive.’

  ‘From where will the forces of this attack come?’ asked Charon.

  Belial paced.

  ‘We must take a risk. Fresh Piscina defence forces are arriving at Kadillus Harbour in the next few hours. We will give over our positions in the city to these soldiers and create a strike force.’

  ‘What you suggest will weaken the defence of Kadillus Harbour.’ As usual, Charon simply stated the facts with no hint of reproach or opinion.

  ‘We will trust to our allies to hold Ghazghkull in place,’ said Uriel. ‘If done under cover of darkness, there is no reason for the enemy to suspect that our lines have been reduced.’

  ‘Better than that, they will think them strengthened,’ said Belial. ‘I will contact the commander of the reinforcement column and instruct him to enter Kadillus Harbour with as much show of strength as possible. I cannot imagine that Ghazghkull has a clear picture of what is happening outside the city. The sight of newly arrived troops and a minor offensive will convince the enemy that they are isolated and that we are preparing for the final attack.’

  ‘It is a worthy plan, brother,’ said Uriel, growing more animated the more he thought about Belial’s course of action. ‘When we destroy the ork landing site, we will be free to return to Kadillus and purge the city of the filthy xenos, as we should have done from the outset.’

  Belial directed a sharp look at the Master Chaplain.

  ‘You believe I was overly cautious in my earlier actions, brother?’

  ‘I do not judge your actions with the benefit of hindsight, brother,’ said Uriel.

  ‘It sounds as if you do,’ replied Belial. ‘If you had concerns that I was being somehow timid in my reaction to the ork attack, why did you not speak to me?’