We had turned our comlinks to passive receive mode, and were still awaiting the signal to attack. I do not know how Sergeant Terathel can wait so calmly. I've seen him off to my right throughout the day, immobile as a clump of grass, his fatigues and armor blending smoothly into the ground. I can barely keep still. Another glance at my bolter still set to fire, still fully loaded. I give thanks to the Emperor for the tenth time today for the sacrifice he has made for us, completely immobile, constantly protecting his people. I could never just sit in one place for 10,000 years. It would drive me mad long before that. I wonder if the Emperor has been driven mad? I am stunned at the heretical thought. When I confess that little gem to the Interrogator-Chaplain, he'll make me run 100 kilometers penance. Two clicks of static enter my ear at last! I draw a bead on my designated target: the primary gunner of the rightmost bunker in my sector. I slow my breathing into a firing rhythm. Any second any second A new voice breaks over the comlink, old and harsh. 'Dark Angels, this is Grand Master Degaliel. Do not kill any officers or leaders take them alive. Execute.' Hybert managed to open up with his heavy bolter first, roaring out his hatred for the heretics. Before his bolts impacted my own bolter barked, and I watched the head of my target explode into a shower of gore. I shifted my aim to the left, to watch the other occupant of the bunker slumping to the ground, his face ripped off by Ginea's precise shot. The next bunker was a cloud of dirt and wood chips being blasted into the air as Hybert vented his rage upon the heretics. If there was anything still alive inside, I couldn't see it. The final bunker had also been ripped apart by Loscanan and Jullos. Hybert finally ceased fire, and the ruin of his bunker was finally revealed. I scanned for other targets, only to see the tracers from the squad across the clearing reaching in between the buildings where I could not see. There! A door facing us opened, and three uniformed men dashed out, autoguns blazing away wildly. I opened up on them, and watched as my own bolts joined others from my squad to tear the three to pieces. To my right, Sergeant Terathel stood, bolt pistol in hand. I tensed, preparing to leap up and follow him, when he hurled something in his other hand into the clearing. Across from me, another scout stood and also threw out a dark object. After a bounce, the small globe the sergeant had thrown settled into the short grass. My vision suddenly blurred in small patches, black and purple and red emptiness in the clearing ahead of me. Just as quickly it was gone. Where the emptiness had been stood huge bone colored terminators, their black heat vents facing me, their storm bolters trained upon the heretics. I quickly looked around the clearing, seeing two other groups of the terminators, at least ten in each. Broken red winged swords were emblazoned upon their shoulders. Emperor's Mercy, half the Deathwing must be here! Across the clearing, a single black terminator turned its deaths head helmet to scan the complex, and waved its crozius forward. The hulking armored forms started forward. The occupants of the complex reacted. Where our camouflaged positions had faced light fire, it seemed fire emerged from every window that faced us. Assault cannons and storm bolters roared back, and clouds of glass and metal scraps fell from the sides of the cheap buildings. The body of a heretic flopped out of the frame of a window, blood running down the wall. As the Deathwing started disappearing into buildings and through the streets, the voice of Sergeant Terathel crackled across my comlink. 'Hybert, stay behind and cover our advance. Assault weapons!' Slinging my bolter, I scrambled to my feet and drew my pistol and the short, heavy sword that was sheathed on my back. Sergeant Terathel, brandishing his crackling power axe, dashed forward, and we followed, hard on his heels. The terminators had already vanished down the narrow mud streets of the complex, delving deeper into the heretics' nest. As we reached the first buildings, deeply pockmarked from bolter fire, the squad drew up short before rounding the corner. Sergeant Terathel pointed to me and the other team leader, Scout Hilarides. 'Hilarides, your team is with me,' the sergeant ordered, sharp and precise. 'Kinop, take the building across the street and clear it. No one is to escape.' His order sent thrills through my body my first separate mission! 'Yes, Brother Sergeant!' I cried. 'Ginea! Jullos! Cover the street while Losacan and I cross.' The two young Marines scampered to the building's corner and directed their pistols down the street, Ginea covering the high windows and roofs, while Jullos crouched low. I signaled Losacan and we dashed across the churned mud street. The slugs impacting around our feet and wizzing by my head told me that some of the heretics had apparently decided not to risk the rage of the Deathwing, but were willing to tangle with scouts. Bolt pistols behind us barked and spat back as we dove behind the corner of our target building. The heretics' fire died off almost immediately. I activated my comlink. 'Hybert, cover the windows and entrances of the building I am next to we don't want any surprises while Jullos and Ginea cross.' Two static bursts in my ear signaled his acknowledgement. I looked over to the pair of my battle brothers across the street. Ginea held up two fingers, and motioned down the street. I nodded no need to use the comlink when hand signals worked. I readied my pistol and peeked around the corner down the street. Nothing was immediately obvious the heretics were remarkably well trained. I scanned the flat rooftops and the three rows of windows that made up the largest building in the complex at the end of the street. I caught a glimpse of bone armor through one of the bottom windows that building must be the Deathwing's target. Losacan waved to the other two scouts, and they sprinted across the street. There! I drew a bead on the movement in a third story window and cut loose. An autogun fell from the window, but of the heretic who held it, I saw no sign, nor of his compatriot in treason. No matter, the Deathwing will find him. My brothers had safely made it across the street, and I motioned them to follow me. I crouched as we made our way towards the door of the building a silhouette against a window makes a fine target for anyone inside. While I trusted Hybeth to engage any obvious threats, I doubted he could see someone lying in ambush away from the window. I pulled up short just before the doorway this was the most dangerous part. I took a deep breath, and reviewed the building entry procedures quickly in my mind hit the center of the room, hit the corner, get out of the doorway. Leaning my back against the wall, I turned my head towards my brothers behind me. I held up my blade, and mouthed the go count three, two, one. Sweeping my blade forward, I leapt into the doorway, sword and pistol ready. Inside the room, a gout of flame, and an invisible fist smashed me off my feet and onto my back. I found myself starting up at the reddish sky, while blue tracers flew over me, buzzing angrily. I quickly rolled left, to the other side of the doorway, and scrambled back against the wall, my chest heaving and aching. Hybert's heavy bolter was now pumping rounds through the doorway, and whatever had hit me was silent now. I looked down at my chest to see the bright metallic gray gashes across the eagle on my armor. I had been hit by four solid slugs, center mass, and my chestplate had saved me. Relief poured through me, and I leaned my head back against the wall, gasping with life. Perhaps I would one day know no fear, at that moment I knew it. I clambered back to my feet, and waved at Hybert to cease fire. The heretics had the doorway well covered. I wracked my brain - how do we enter? It would take too long to climb through a window, and if they were prepared enough to ambush me like that, grenades will probably be ineffective. As I quickly thought, a chunk of the doorframe fell to the ground, dislodged by the impacts of the heavy bolts that had slammed into it. Typical of heretics, to use such flimsy buildings. These quick-build structures just don't take punishment very well. A grin spread across my face. First checking my bolt pistol's magazine, I pointed to Ginea, who was across the doorway, looking at me expectantly. I pointed to one of my own grenades, held up two fingers, and motioned to the doorway. Ginea nodded, and he and Jullos both pulled loose grenades, armed them and tossed them into the doorway. A shriek from inside the room, and I trained my weapon at the already battered wall that I had just leaned against. I opened up on the wall, and the grenades went off with a massive thump. The wall disintegrated into a cloud of falling bits and billowing dust, and the acrid odor of the explosives assaulted me. I dashed through the new opening, and saw the heavy stubber and its operator across the wide room, behind an impromptu gunner's nest of metal tables. His head jerked towards me, and his eyes grew wide under his helmet as my pistol came up. The stubber never swung away from the door as the heretic's head burst apart from the impact of a single bolt. 'Mercy, Astartes!' came a moan from my left. Another of the heretic guards was on his hands and knees, blood streaming from his ears and nose, and his plain uniform in tatters where the grenades had sent shrapnel into him. 'I surrender! Please, show mercy!' The man lifted his hands into the air, holding them empty before him. I saw the fear in his eyes, and noted the insignia on his collar just a rank and file trooper. I swung my pistol and shot him in the chest. The bolt's impact kicked him backwards, and he sprawled onto the ground, his chest cavity smoking and his limbs splayed at the impossible angles only the dead can achieve. 'Never forget, never forgive,' I muttered. He had taken up arms against the Emperor, and there is no forgiveness in this world for one such as that. Such is the way of the Dark Angels, as the Interrogator-Chaplain had taught me. 'Clear!' I called, and my brothers entered the savaged room. |
DARK ANGELS SCOUT STORY By Chris LS |
FABLES OF THE UNFORGIVEN |
