‘Neither did I,’ she admitted, with a slight smile. ‘But I picked up the carrier wave from your combead, and we just headed in the direction the signal was strongest in.’

  ‘I’m glad you did.’ I glanced across to where Trebek was scraping a gooey piece of Kelp residue from her boot. Amberley’s smile broadened.

  ‘You seemed to have the situation well in hand.’ I shrugged.

  ‘I’ve faced worse odds.’

  ‘No doubt. But he did you a favour, in a way.’ I must have looked puzzled at that point, because she explained as though pointing out something obvious. ‘He made you a lot easier to find. Once we got close enough we just had to follow the noise.’

  Her words hit me like a bucket of ice water. (Or a Valhallan shower, which I don’t recommend to the unwary, by the way.)

  ‘Form up,’ I said to the troopers. ‘We’re moving out.’

  ‘Just a moment, sir.’ Holenbi was rummaging in his medkit. ‘I’d like to get you patched up first.’ I swear that was the first time I realised I’d taken any damage from the scuffle, or possibly the firefight in the big chamber, my knuckles were smeared with blood. My first thought was that it served me right for punching a suit of carapace armour, but they hadn’t been skinned all that badly (and the augmetic ones not at all); most of it had come from the large graze on my forehead, which, now that I’d finally noticed it, had begun to sting abominably. I fended the young medic off as he sprayed it with something.

  ‘We don’t have time for that,’ I said. ‘If you heard something, you might not have been the only ones.’

  That got them moving, let me tell you. The thought of facing another horde of hybrids and purestrains was enough to motivate anyone. We moved out in good order, though, I was pleased to note the surviving members of the team actually seemed to mesh together as soldiers should. Now Kelp was gone, the friction which had marred the mission since it started had dissipated, seemingly along with his molecules, and Trebek took point without needing to be ordered to. If she kept this up, I found myself thinking, I might even consider letting her have her corporal’s stripes back.

  ‘We were lucky back there,’ I said, falling in beside Amberley again. She raised an eyebrow.

  ‘How so?’

  ‘When they attacked before. Most of them went for the tau rather than us.’

  ‘And you found that curious?’ I nodded.

  ‘When I fought ‘stealers before, on Keffia, they didn’t prioritise. Just went for the nearest targets.’

  ‘Intriguing,’ she said. ‘Mind you, after that promethium tank went up they could only get to the xenos anyway.’

  ‘It was before then,’ I said. ‘Right at the start. They only seemed to come after us once we’d started to retreat.’

  ‘And you say this isn’t typical genestealer behaviour,’ she prompted.

  ‘Not in my experience,’ I confirmed.

  ‘I see. Thank you, commissar.’ She looked thoughtful, and, once again, her eyes were fixed on Jurgen.

  We pushed on quickly, following a run of piping which seemed to be tending upwards, but I couldn’t shake the sense of unease that settled over me as we trotted through the dark. I’d suggested dousing the luminators again, but Amberley overruled me, insisting we make the best time we could, so I left my own off and hurried along at the rear of the group; that way I got the benefit of the others’ lights without making myself quite so obvious a target. I didn’t like it, though, my palms were tingling again, and my scalp crawled with the anticipation of a sudden shot from the shadows, or an eruption of purestrains from the darkness. One thing I’d learned from my previous encounters with the creatures, they were remarkably stealthy and preferred to strike from the shadows, as the Astartes I’d boarded the space hulk with had learned the hard way. The hybrids weren’t so worrying, their human genes making them both more conspicuous and easier to kill, even if they were able to use ranged weapons against us.

  ‘So far so good,’ Amberley muttered, which was tempting fate if ever I heard it. We’d been remarkably lucky so far, but I knew that couldn’t be expected to last.

  ‘They won’t be too far behind,’ I reminded her. In fact, given the speed at which they moved, I was vaguely surprised that they hadn’t caught up with us yet...

  Sudden understanding hit me like a blow to the stomach. They didn’t have to comb an entire labyrinth to try and find us – they had sentries posted on the main routes in and out. All they had to do was wait, and reinforce their perimeter guards, and we’d walk right into them in our own good time.

  ‘Wait,’ I said. ‘We could be running into an ambush.’ I thought rapidly, calculating our most probable position, and the distance we’d penetrated after finding the cavern full of the tau’s victims. We were still comfortably short, but–

  The sudden detonation of a las-bolt ahead, blowing shards of rockcrete from the wall beside Trebek, derailed my chain of thought at once. I’d missed a trick; they were combing the corridors from their outer perimeter, tightening the noose around us–

  ‘Pull back! Consolidate!’ I yelled, as Trebek crouched low to return the fire. Running figures could be seen beyond her, picked out by the beam of the luminator taped to the barrel of her gun, and she squeezed the trigger, felling a young man in the uniform of the PDF. For a moment, I wondered if we’d made a horrible mistake, and were opening fire once more on our own allies, but some of the other figures beside him were unmistakably hybrids. One young woman, who might have been attractive if it wasn’t for the third arm growing from her right shoulder blade, tipped with a genestealer’s razor-sharp claws, flicked the tip of a xenoist braid from her eyes with the monstrous appendage (a surprisingly delicate gesture, I remember thinking at the time), and levelled the heavy stubber cradled in her other two hands. Before I could cry a warning, Sorel punched a hole through her head with his usual unerring accuracy. A second PDF trooper, his uniform embellished with a blue towel tied round his upper arm for some reason, cried out in anguish, dropping his lasgun, and cradled the body.

  ‘I don’t think we can, commissar.’ Jurgen was his usual phlegmatic self, seemingly as unconcerned as if he was asking me to approve a routine piece of paperwork. ‘They’re behind us as well.’ He was right, too, the sounds of scurrying feet echoing down the tunnel in the direction from which we’d come.

  ‘We have to punch through,’ Amberley said decisively. Velade and Holenbi nodded grimly to one another, and opened fire on the cultists in support of Trebek, hugging the walls to present the lowest target profile.

  ‘Better do it fast!’ I shouted. I’d shone my luminator back down the corridor, and my heart nearly stopped – instead of more ragged cultists, the narrow passage was choked with purestrains, jaws gaping, their teeth dripping slobber, as they charged forward at what looked like the pace of a landspeeder. I drew my laspistol and fired a futile volley at them. The lead one fell, and was instantly trampled to goo by the weight of the others as they ran right over it, the snapping of chitin and the squish of its bodily fluids turning my stomach. (And you really don’t want to know about the smell.) ‘We’re running out of time!’

  Jurgen sent a melta blast down the corridor, but it barely slowed them; for every one that fell there seemed to be an army in reserve.

  ‘We’re doing our best,’ Trebek called, aiming and firing in one smooth motion. Every time she squeezed the trigger, another cultist died, and her torso armour was scored with las-bolt impacts. Whatever crimes she’d committed aboard the Righteous Wrath, she’d more than atoned for, and the flush of satisfaction I felt at this vindication of my decision to prevent her execution almost managed to drive out the rising terror I felt at the onrushing tide of chitinous death which by now was almost upon us.

  Abruptly Trebeck took a bolt to the chest, the explosive tip bursting through her ribcage, spattering the wall next to her with viscera. She just had enough time to look surprised before the light faded from her eyes.

  ‘Bella!’ Holenbi lowered his hellgun, and scrabbled for his medkit. I grabbed his shoulder.

  ‘Keep firing!’ I shouted. ‘She’s beyond help!’ And so would we be in a few more seconds, if we couldn’t punch a way out of here. He nodded, and brought the weapon back on aim, squeezing the trigger reflexively. Amberley’s bolt pistol barked in my ear, and another former PDF trooper died as messily as Trebek had done.

  ‘This could be it,’ I said, feeling the peculiar light-headed fatalism that often kicks in when death looks inevitable. The tight knot of fear dissolved, replaced by the calm certainty that nothing I did now would make any difference, but I was damn well taking as many of the bastards with me as I could. The inquisitor turned to answer me, but before she could say anything a las-bolt burst against the side of her head.

  ‘Amberley!’ I yelled, but to my astonishment she was suddenly gone, vanishing without a trace apart from the sudden thunderclap of displaced air rushing in to fill the sudden vacuum in the space which she’d occupied. ‘What the hell–’

  ‘Commissar.’ Her voice was suddenly in my combead. ‘Tell Jurgen to shoot the wall, about three metres back from his current position. Hurry!’ Sudden hope flared, and I did as I was bid, though as you’ll appreciate, I wasn’t in any position to understand what had happened to her or why she would issue so strange an instruction.

  To his credit, Jurgen complied as quickly and efficiently as he obeyed any order, and to my astonishment, a large hole appeared instantly, about a metre across. The wall there was barely the width of my forearm, and I dived through before the sides had even had a chance to cool.

  ‘This way!’ I shouted. Velade and Holenbi started to fall back, while Sorel took a final shot at the onrushing purestrains. Jurgen turned to do the same, unleashing another blast of ravening energy, and then the masonry over the gap started to crumble. ‘Hurry!’ I yelled, but it was too late; with a grinding roar the wall collapsed behind me, raising a cloud of choking dust, and sealing my companions in with the creatures, which would surely kill them all.

  Now, under any normal circumstances, the idea that I was safely sealed away from a genestealer horde behind tons of fallen masonry would just leave me feeling intensely relieved. I can only assume I got hit on the head or something, because without a second’s thought I started scrabbling at the rubble, trying to clear the way back to the corridor which, by now, would undoubtedly be decorated with the internal organs of the others. I only desisted when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

  ‘Leave it, Ciaphas.’ Amberley shook her head regretfully. ‘They’re past helping now.’ I stood, slowly, brushing the dust from my clothes, and wondered how I was ever going to manage without Jurgen. Thirteen years was a long time to serve together after all, and I was going to miss him. ‘What happened?’ I asked, blinking dust from my eyes. It felt as though my brain was full of it too. ‘Where did you go?’

  ‘Here, apparently.’ Amberley looked around at the chamber we were in. It wasn’t very prepossessing, but at least it was free of genestealers. ‘The displacer field dumped me here when I got shot.’

  ‘The what?’ I shook my head, dazedly. My hair was full of dust too, and I couldn’t find my cap. For some reason that seemed very important, and I kept looking round for it, even though it was almost certainly buried under piles of debris.[53]

  ‘Displacer field. If I take a strong enough hit, it teleports me out of the way.’ She shrugged. ‘Most of the time, anyway.’

  ‘Useful toy,’ I said.

  ‘When it works.’ She glanced around the chamber. ‘Shall we go?’

  ‘Go where?’ I asked, still trying to take it all in.

  ‘Away. Fast.’ She swung her luminator beam over a darker shadow in the corner of the room. ‘This looks like a way out.’ I nodded.

  ‘I can feel an air current.’

  ‘Good.’ She looked at me curiously, and I realised that she couldn’t. What is it they say? You can take the boy out of the hive... ‘Let’s go then.’

  Well, I didn’t have any better ideas, so I trailed along after her. Although if I’d known what we were heading into, I might just have decided to stay put after all.

  Editorial Note:

  Once again, I must apologise for this, but it really is the only eyewitness account I’ve been able to find.

  (Actually, there are the official after-action reports, too, which might yield a more coherent picture if someone were to go through them and collate the various viewpoints of a dozen different officers, but to be honest, I haven’t the time or the patience.)

  Extracted from Like a Phoenix From the Flames: The Founding of the 597th, by General Jenit Sulla (retired), 097.M42.

  By the time we had reached the old quarter, we had almost grown used to the shadowy presence of the tau, flitting about us like malign ghosts, and it is greatly to the credit of the troopers I was honoured to serve with that not one of them gave way to the temptation to exact retribution for the destruction of the city, despite the presence of an obvious target on more than one occasion. However strong this urge might become, and strong it was, we remained mindful of the injunction placed upon us, and focused our minds on the delicate mission with which we had been entrusted. Truly, there can be no foe more despicable than an imperial servant who has betrayed the trust of the Emperor, and we were, if anything, even more eager to call the wretched governor to account for his perfidy than we were to wreak deserved vengeance on the alien interlopers whose presence he had tolerated for so long, with such dire consequences.

  We had anticipated little difficulty in achieving this end, for what forces could he possibly have had at his disposal to defy His Divine Majesty’s most loyal servants? A handful of palace guards, if that, whose martial abilities had been found sorely wanting when they were called upon to defend his residence from no more than a street-brawling mob. So it was with ever-rising confidence that we swept through the desolated streets on our errand of vengeance; a confidence which was soon to seem gravely misplaced.

  My first warning that all was not well was the sound of an explosion, as a krak missile detonated against the hull of one of the Chimeras ahead of us. From my position in the turret of my command vehicle, I could see the bright blossoming of the explosion, an unfolding red rose of destruction that scored the armour plating on one side. It evidently failed to penetrate, however, as the dauntless gunner swung the turret round, unleashing a hail of heavy bolts at the importunate enemy. My sense of satisfaction at seeing the building from which the attack came scoured with the Emperor’s retribution was short-lived, however, as a number of other missiles followed it, hissing from positions concealed in the rubble around us.

  Inevitably, some found their mark, penetrating armour and shattering tracks, bringing several of our Chimeras to a halt; and the chatter on the vox channels told me that our company was not alone in being so treacherously defied. The other elements of our regiment, strung out along many of the adjacent roads in an effort to surround the palace, were under similar attack, and a glance at my tactical slate was enough to tell me that this was a well-planned operation, executed with a meticulous precision greatly at odds with the bedraggled and dispirited force we had expected to meet. Without further thought I dropped back inside the Chimera, where the specialised sensoria and vox equipment would let me direct my subordinates to greater effect, and began to plan our response.

  ‘Halt and dismount!’ I ordered, realising that our advance would be stalled indefinitely unless we closed with the enemy on foot, our lumbering vehicles being easy targets for the dug-in missile teams, and our drivers made haste to obey.

  It was then that I took to my feet myself, for the whole vehicle rang with a sudden impact, and we slowed to a halt, thick smoke billowing through the crew compartment. Swift enquiry made it obvious that our driver was dead, so I lost no time in forming up my command team and bailing out of our now crippled Chimera.

  A scene of sheer pandemonium met my appalled gaze as we pounded down the ramp. Two of the armoured carriers were on fire, and a handful of others immobilized; the rest were manoeuvring into what cover they could find. I followed suit smartly as a flurry of las-bolts erupted from the enemy positions, impacting around us as we took whatever shelter presented itself.

  ‘Third Platoon, report.’ Major Broklaw’s voice was strong in my combead, his calm demeanour reassuring despite the confusion surrounding us. I responded as crisply as I could, as befitted a warrior of the Emperor.

  ‘We’re immobilised, and taking fire,’ I reported. ‘The enemy seems well dug in.’

  ‘They were waiting for us,’ he said. That was my opinion, too; the positions they occupied had to have been prepared some time in advance. The implications of this were staggering. The governor had obviously realised the game was up, but where had he found the troops we were facing? I levelled my optical enhancers, and inhaled sharply.

  ‘The enemy are PDF elements,’ I reported. A couple of the lurking figures still had blue rags tied around an arm, but the squad leader, confusingly, bore the makeshift insignia of the imperial faction in the recent civil disturbances.

  ‘Loyalist or xenoist?’ Colonel Kasteen cut in. For a moment I was at a loss as to how to answer.

  ‘Both,’ I said at last. ‘Both factions seem to be working together now–’

  ‘That doesn’t make sense!’ Broklaw said, an edge of frustration beginning to enter his voice. But Kasteen remained unruffled, fine commander that she was.

  ‘Nothing about this Emperor-forsaken rathole makes any sense,’ she pointed out reasonably. But the major was right about one thing.

  ‘There are no loyalists any more,’ he said. ‘Take them all.’

  That was an order we could obey with enthusiasm, and we went to it with a will, of that you may be sure. All the frustration we had endured since our arrival on Gravalax came boiling to the surface, transmuted into true martial zeal, and I vowed that the blood of the traitor would surely be shed this day.

 

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