Bright meteors burst through the clouds, streaking groundward to the east. They came down rapidly, their snowy vapour trails scoring the yellow-brown sky. ‘We must leave. I will see if Vorstrex and his command can be recovered.’ Kalkator switched his vox-channel, seeking out the downed
A wider world of sound greeted him: the garbled chatter of the Black Templars’ communications, overlaid atop the hissing of the dead world’s voice. He scanned through multiple channels, seeking out his comrades.
A blip, and a tumble of shouted squad communication burst into his earpieces.
‘Vorstrex, this is Kalkator. Respond.’ There was no reply. Kalkator tried again, without success. It was clear the leading sergeant of the men aboard the
‘It appears there are now orks also upon the planet in large numbers,’ said Kalkator leadenly. ‘They attack Vorstrex.’
‘There is more, warsmith,’ said Lerontus. ‘Enemy gunships have deployed and will move against us. They will be deep enough into the atmosphere to begin pursuit and intercept within five minutes.’
The tactical display of the Thunderhawk was crowded with icons denoting the Black Templars forces. Out of the window, curling contrails pulled away from the gracefully curved descent lines of the drop pods.
‘Five of them, and we are just the two,’ said Kalkator.
‘Long odds,’ said Caesax.
‘I have endured worse. Alter course. Put some distance between us and the Black Templars. Head for that ruin.’ Kalkator pointed at a squat building jutting from the sands some ten kilometres away. ‘We shall make our stand there. Let them blunt their ire upon a sea of orks. When they are done, our guns shall be waiting.’
‘Prepare forward lance batteries!’ commanded Ericus. ‘Spinal turret array stand by for my command. Reopen the oculus.’
‘Compliance,’ mumbled a servitor. Motors grumbled as they pulled the massive blast shields back from the window.
Ericus looked from the oculus to the hololithic tactical display. On the display the
The command deck was a murmur of idiot servitor queries and reports, overlaid with the terse, efficient battle talk of the Chapter servants.
‘We are within optimum range, shipmaster. Shall I give the order to open fire?’
‘Negative. Hold fire. We will not be drawn into a duel, but shall force our munitions down their throats at point-blank range. Then we shall unleash our masters upon the traitors aboard.’
‘As you command, shipmaster.’
A bell rang. Servitors gabbled moaning alarms. ‘Multiple orkish contacts closing from planetary east,’ reported the Master Augurum.
‘Steady as she goes,’ ordered Ericus.
‘Range two thousand kilometres and closing. We are gaining on the
‘Wait for it!’ demanded Ericus. He leaned forward in his command throne, leather gloves squeaking on each other as he massaged his hands over his sword hilt.
‘Shipmaster! More orkish vessels approach from planetary north. Interceptor and bomber wings launched. They’re coming in fast. Contact in twenty seconds. Nineteen, eighteen…’
Alarms clamoured. ‘Alert, alert,’ groaned a choir of hissing mechanical voices. ‘Boarders detected. Decks ninety-seven, forty-two and six. Alert, alert, boarders detected.’
‘Long-range teleport, origin unknown,’ said the Master Augurum.
‘Was there any warning?’ snapped Ericus.
‘Negative, sir, they just came out of nowhere.’
‘Seal all bulkheads. Serjeants-at-arms are hereby given permission to open the armouries and distribute weaponry to the ship crew. All Chapter warrior bondsmen stand ready. Armsmen to the affected sites,’ said Ericus.
‘Shipmaster, this is Sword Brother Rolans.’ Rolans’ sonorous, transhuman voice rolled out across the command deck. ‘We shall postpone our boarding attempt. It will avail us naught if we take the
‘Allow my men to take care of the problem, my lord,’ said Ericus. ‘We are within boarding torpedo range of the
‘There are too many,’ countered Rolans. ‘Your men will be destroyed. We will show them the Emperor’s displeasure at first hand.’