Kahu cursed Sharr as he reloaded, auto-senses probing the steam-wreathed, rusting engines and roller belts for anything he’d missed. Over two dozen heretic infantry with their black-painted hands and gas hoods lay scattered across the floor, their bodies broken apart by storm bolter fire. The rest of the Red Brethren had spread through the large room as they’d purged the last survivors, each one a lone rock, impervious to the small-arms fire of the cultists.
‘Forgotten One give me strength,’ Kahu said as he finished his assessment of the captured chamber. Slaughtering cultists was a waste of the Red Brethren’s skills, yet they had been left with little choice. The Scouts were with Te Kahurangi. The section of tunnels that constituted their main objective – junction 11-1 – were the last before the final arterial routes around Sink Shaft One could be breached. Seizing them would initiate the last phase of the operation to retake Zartak, and once that was completed the Tithe could finally begin.
Thus far the Night Lords had proven themselves entirely unable to match the speed and ferocity of the Carcharodons’ offensive. Kahu had noticed the numerous violated Mark VII power armour patterns among the enemy dead – he surmised that the warband they were facing was a recent one, full of new, unstable recruits and recently turned renegades. They would have been unprepared for the veteran Carcharodons. If Sharr hadn’t mishandled the operation by giving vital forces to Te Kahurangi for the psyker’s indulgent hunt, they would probably even now be storming the lower vaults of the Precinct Fortress.
‘Squad, regroup,’ Kahu voxed to the rest of the Red Brethren. Over the past day and a half they had truly embraced their name. Blood befouled almost every inch of their scarred armour, forming a dark, reddish brown crust over the white battleplate. The First Company squad closed in on their leader from across the chamber, stomping through the steam like baleful, implacable revenants. The noticeable absence of Brother Eti, who had fallen battling through borehole 23, still pained Kahu.
‘Orders, brother-sergeant?’ asked Naroti as he closed with his sergeant.
‘The objective remains the same,’ Kahu informed the squad. ‘Secure the final junctions. With the larger tunnels under our control the whole battle company will have a staging post for the final assault on the sink shaft. Brother Maro, take–’
Kahu got no further. An icy shriek filled the chamber, drowning the noise of the sifters and piercing even the Space Marines’ audio filters. Before any of them could respond the air above ignited as blue flames blossomed from nowhere. The shrieking grew louder as five figures clad in warped power armour tore from the fires. Claws wreathed in unnatural flame, they fell on the Red Brethren.
Kahu didn’t have time to vox a warning before the first creature struck him. It came down with its back-jointed lower limbs extended, its claws punching deep into both pauldrons. Kahu rocked under the impact, only the immense weight of his Tactical Dreadnought armour and auto-stabilisers keeping him from being thrown over. He lunged up at the shrieking monster, but his power fist only passed through the dissipating blue flame left in its wake – the thing had turned its downward impact into an upward thrust with the help of its corrupt jump pack, leaping out of Kahu’s reach.
‘Void Father take you all,’ the Terminator spat into the vox, bringing his storm bolter up. ‘Brother Tuvo, we need–’ He was cut off again as the creature struck once more, its talons cracking one of his helmet lenses and drawing blood from the torn plates of his buckled left pauldron. Kahu unclamped his boots and stepped back, giving himself room to swing properly. This time the traitor had overcommitted, and his crackling fist jarred one of its limbs as it attempted to pull away. Its thrust took it backwards rather than up, skittering across the grille floor like some sort of darting, clawed predator.
Across the chamber the other corrupt Night Lords were setting upon Kahu’s three battle-brothers, their talons raking through the Red Brethren’s plate. The Terminator armour was little protection against the unnatural razor-edges of the traitors’ talons. Maro was already on his knees, slashed and bloodied, while Naroti had backed into a sifting belt, his fist’s disruptor field shorting out.
Kahu opened fire on the Night Lord that had attacked him. The target lock overlay of his remaining lens struggled to track the creature as it soared upwards, the burst of bolts eventually clipping one of the wings of its jump pack. It lost altitude as abruptly as it had gained it, sparks bursting from the Chaos-tainted backpack. Kahu lumbered forwards, servos grating. His storm bolter’s magazine block clicked empty, but not before he’d managed to put the last two bolts through the thing’s breastplate.
As it faltered he snatched one limb with his fist. The Night Lord lashed out, warpfire blazing where the claws struck the Terminator’s reinforced battleplate. For a second the two forces vied, energy snapping and sparking between the locked combatants. Then Kahu clenched his fist, crushing the Night Lord’s limb and smashing up through its crested helm. The traitor burst apart in a shower of burning meat and molten armour, liquidised by the savagery of the Carcharodon’s strike.
The rest of the Red Brethren were struggling. A glance at the vital readouts showed warning sigils over Maro and Tuvo’s combat designates. Naroti was flashing yellow, wounded. Kahu locked on to him, half hidden by steam and a rattling sift-belt conveyor at the far end of the chamber. He broke into a heavy run, reloading as he went.
Another Night Lord struck Kahu from behind. He fell, carried forwards by his own momentum. The floor buckled beneath him. He grunted as he fought to right himself, servos whirring shrilly as he pushed himself back up onto one knee. It took several precious seconds. Seconds he knew he did not have.
Pain lanced through his lower back, and warning runes burst out across his damage display like new constellations. He grunted as he felt the long talons slide free, the anti-pain stimms kicking in with a bio-jolt.
He found his feet just as another creature landed in front of him, its claws punching into the floor for purchase. It slashed towards his gorget. He parried the blow with his power fist, energies cracking as the two weapons recoiled from one another. The one behind him struck again, this time plunging both sets of talons into his back, beneath his shoulder blades.
Kahu ignored the warning displays and vital readouts telling him he was dead. His lungs were both punctured and one of his hearts had burst. He threw the last of his strength into a lunge towards the clawed fiend in front of him, clutching at it with his fist. It darted back effortlessly, and the one behind hamstrung him with a wicked flick-snap of its claws. He crumpled, his servos failing, slamming down onto his back. Blood choked him. Naroti’s display signifier had turned red. He fought to rise once more, tried to will his body into action, tried to rekindle the slaughterous fury that had driven him successfully through so many engagements. But nothing moved. His armour was as dead as he was. It had become his tomb, bearing him down as assuredly as any sarcophagus slab.
Darkness fell. His remaining lens, flickering on the last of the armour’s power reserve, refocused. One of the things was crouched over him, warpfire flowing across its twisting, spiked plates. It cocked its head to one side, like a curious skyfowl come to watch its paralysed prey die. A low clicking sound issued from its vox-grille. Then, after a moment, the flames around it flared. It made a sharp cutting motion with its talons, pouncing upwards. The roaring conflagration consumed it. When the flames died, it and its kin had vanished, gone as swiftly as they had appeared.
As Kahu died, the adamantium sifting engines clattered on, oblivious to the blood dripping from their endlessly rotating belts.
+ + Gene scan complete + + +
+ + Access granted + + +
+ + Beginning mem-bank entry log + + +
+ + Date check, 3676875.M41 + + +
Day 90, Zartak local.
We have just secured a landing zone in the Adeptus Arbites facility listed on the carto-holos as Sub-Precinct Eight. The place
is completely deserted. There are, however, numerous signs of armed conflict. The armoury has been broken open and emptied, there are spent shell casings on the battlements and dry blood stains in the medicae bay. Even more curiously, the ground within the sub-precinct has been heavily churned up by large treads and what looks like landing prongs. It seems as though tracked vehicles, presumably heavy armour, was landed here. Sergeant Worren also identified sets of boot prints that I believe could only belong to warriors of the Adeptus Astartes.
We are preparing to descend into the prison levels, and then the mines beyond, if we still find no trace of life. A few members of the retinue, most prominently cryptanalyst Serith, have strongly advised sending word to Lord Rozenkranz and awaiting his directives before venturing any further. While deferring in such a manner is tempting, I will not shirk from my duties – I know I have sufficient clearance and authority to proceed for now, and besides, I would not wish to overly tax the Saint Angelica’s astropath again. The man barely survived Zartak’s mortis-cry.
We carry on, into the darkness.
Signed,
Interrogator Augim Nzogwu.
+ + Mem-bank entry log ends + + +
+ + Thought for the Day: Only in death does duty end + + +
Chapter X
There was no response over the vox. Sharr tried again.
‘Red Wrath, this is Reaper, come in.’ Still no reply, just the hiss of background static generated by the complexities of the underworld’s twisting terrain. The command squad were assembled in the last junction taken by the company, Sharr’s brothers watching the shadows warily as the Company Master coordinated the final push towards Sink Shaft One over the vox. The urge to join the lead Tactical squads in their assaults was almost overpowering, but Sharr resisted. There was more to command than a bloody blade. That was something Akia had started to forget towards the end. It was not a mistake he would make.
‘We’ve lost all contact with Kahu,’ he said to First Squad.
‘Maybe just subterranean interference,’ Dorthor said.
‘Regardless, the Red Brethren need to be found. If Kahu has pushed too far ahead he may have been cut off.’
‘I doubt there are many things that could cut off the Red Brethren,’ Niko interjected. Sharr didn’t reply. Te Kahurangi’s transmission icon had just lit up his visor display.
‘This is Reaper,’ Sharr said, accepting the vox connection. ‘What news, venerable Librarian?’
‘I have failed, brother,’ said Te Kahurangi. He sounded exhausted. ‘The Dead Skin has the boy.’
Sharr bit back a curse. ‘He is lost to us then?’
‘Not yet. It will take time for the traitor to complete his rituals. If we can get to him before the daemon’s essence is bound to the boy’s body, we may still have a chance. They will have taken him to the Precinct Fortress.’
‘All the more reason for us to continue our assault towards Sink Shaft One then,’ Sharr said. ‘We have lost contact with Red Wrath. I have halted the advance momentarily while we try to re-establish connection.’
‘I will return to you with Ari and the Scouts. They will help find him.’
‘Then we shall proceed for now,’ Sharr said. ‘We have stalled for long enough. Join us as soon as you can.’
‘Acknowledged, Company Master.’
Sharr cut the link and turned his attention back to scanning for the Red Brethren. He wasn’t getting any vital signs from the Terminators on his visor, but that meant little – according to the blinking displays, he and half his command squad were dead anyway. The scramblers being used by the Night Lords were rendering the Space Marines’ auto-senses half blind.
Sharr blink-deleted the conflicting displays, feeling his anger flare. Kahu and his Terminators had gone too far. The First Company veterans had taken their desire for haste beyond the understandable and into the realm of foolhardiness. The last vox-message from Kahu had stated he was moving to purge a sifting plant before the final junctions leading to Sink Shaft One. The Terminator had made little effort to hide the fact that he believed Sharr had made a tactical misjudgement sending the Scouts in support of Te Kahurangi, or the fact that he’d be reporting as much to Lord Tyberos once the Tithe was over. Sharr tried the vox one more time. Still nothing.
‘Orders, Company Master?’ asked Dorthor. The grizzled strike veteran was prompting him, Sharr realised. A decision had to be reached – wait for Te Kahurangi and the Scouts while trying to re-establish vox contact, or move up immediately and find the Red Brethren.
‘We advance,’ Sharr said to his command squad. ‘Lock on to Kahu’s last recorded position. Tenth Squad will replace us in reserve.’ He switched to the company-wide communications frequency.
‘In the event that my vox goes offline, Strike Leader Nuritona has command.’
Terse acknowledgement clicked back over the link. The squads of Third Company had adopted hold and overwatch positions while the advance sat poised, strung out through strip-seams, megaborer tunnels and loco rail lines west of the final junctions before Sink Shaft One. Sharr could sense the quivering anticipation in even the most experienced of his squad leaders. They’d all caught battle’s scent, the heady tang of blood and weapons discharge. They were eager to slaughter this overconfident enemy. They wouldn’t have to wait much longer. Sharr switched back to the inter-squad vox-frequency.
‘Dawn Tide formation,’ he ordered, picking a combat spread that would enable the fastest movement-to-contact. ‘Brother Tane on point. Let’s go find them.’
The Tactical Marines of Fourth and Fifth Squads were holding an extended line of haulage tunnels and ore sinks either side of what had been Kahu’s advance route. Breaking from their positions to investigate the Red Brethren’s sudden silence would have left Fourth and Fifth in turn dangerously exposed, and create gaps in the Carcharodons’ battlefront. That was almost certainly what the traitors were hoping for, Sharr knew. He led First Squad in silence down the traverse tunnel that ran between the two Tactical squads, coming out at the small, secondary junction next to the sifting chamber. The rattle and clatter of the room’s active machinery echoed down the tunnels around them. Sharr nodded for Tane to proceed after the Champion paused at the entrance to the sifting chamber.
Inside, they discovered that their worst fears had been correct.
The Red Brethren were dead. There was no evidence as to what had killed them, beyond their horrific slashing injuries. Whatever had cut through their battleplate, it had done so in spite of the inches of ceramite, plasteel and adamantium rods.
‘The gouges look similar to lightning claw wounds,’ said Red Tane, kneeling beside one of the slain giants.
‘Too vicious, even for those,’ Dorthor said.
‘Warp creatures?’ Niko surmised.
‘Maybe we’ll never know,’ said Soha, volkite caliver buzzing with energy as he scanned the steam-shrouded room.
‘I suspect we will,’ said Sharr. He’d found Kahu. The Terminator was on his back near the middle of the sifting chamber, the mesh grille underneath buckled and sticky with his blood. Sharr contemplated the dead lenses of the warrior’s helm.
‘He was overconfident,’ Niko said, the shadow of the company’s battle standard falling across the dead Carcharodon as he joined Sharr.
‘I should have stopped him,’ Sharr said. ‘He was still under my command, even if he was from the First Company.’
‘He answers to none but Lord Tyberos,’ Niko said, giving a small shrug.
‘He’s answering to the Void Father now.’
Apothecary Tama set to work, the buzzing of his drill and the carbon-alloy reductor saw built into his narthecium rising above the clatter of the surrounding machinery as it cut towards Kahu’s gene-seed.
‘Each of them died alone,’ Soha observed, looking across the chamber. ‘Spread out. What could have taken First Company vetera
ns by surprise?’
‘Not this scum, that’s for certain,’ Red Tane said, the Company Champion stepping distastefully over the cultist corpses to join Sharr. Dozens of the heretics littered the room, blown apart by bolt and power fist, but they had clearly not been responsible for the Terminators’ deaths.
There was something down here, Sharr realised. A set of hunters even more vicious and cunning than the Carcharodons.
‘White One,’ he voxed to Strike Leader Ari. ‘What is your location?’
‘We are just moving into your tunnel section with the venerable Librarian, Reaper.’
‘Red Wrath is dead. Take a squad of your initiates and converge on my position. We must retrieve their bodies and the blessed Tactical Dreadnought armour before we proceed.’
‘Affirmative, Reaper, I am locking with your signal now. Sifting chamber nine.’
‘This stinks of warp trickery,’ Dorthor growled, stalking across the chamber to join the rest of the command squad around Kahu. ‘Nothing else explains how the Red Brethren could have been taken by surprise.’
‘The heretics underestimated us,’ Sharr said. ‘Kahu repeated their mistake, and has paid the price. We will not do the same.’
‘No contacts for over an hour,’ Dorthor said. ‘Not even the human prisoners roaming the tunnels. They’ve all gone – cultists, convicts, the traitors…’
‘Something is coming,’ Sharr agreed. ‘Venerable Te Kahurangi failed to secure the boy before the heretic sorcerer reached him. They have likely removed him to the Precinct Fortress. That remains our objective.’
‘The company has suffered. The Tactical squads are barely above fifty per cent strength.’
‘Our instructions from the Nomad Predation Fleet were clear,’ Sharr said. ‘This is a Red Tithe. It will be completed, even if you and I are the only void brothers left to perform it.’
Dorthor held his gaze for a moment, grizzled synth-flesh unreadable behind his helm’s beaked Mark VI visor.
Carcharodons: Red Tithe Page 18
