Carcharadons: Void Exile, page 25
‘You have done well, to bring those other squads together,’ Nuritona noted after clasping Kordi’s forearm.
‘I had no hand in it,’ Kordi admitted. ‘It was the Librarian who was responsible.’
‘It seems the Seers of the Deeps are responsible for much these days,’ Nuritona said. Kordi did not need to be able to see past his helmet’s visor to read the dissatisfaction in his voice.
‘It is true then,’ Kordi said. ‘Where is he?’
‘You will see them both soon enough,’ Nuritona replied. ‘I will bring them together along with the strike leaders, and discuss what comes next.’
‘Exiles are permitted to partake in a council of war?’ Kordi asked, but Nuritona raised a hand, as though warding him off.
‘Now is not the time for such debates. I have had enough of them already.’
That, Kordi could agree with. He had scarce believed Khauri when the Librarian told him Bail Sharr was fighting in the city alongside the company’s other half. The presence of the Pale Nomad was also unexpected, but the fact Te Kahurangi was involved in such a reunion was the least surprising facet of it all.
‘Brother-Librarian Khauri informs me that we are bound for a decapitation strike,’ he said to Nuritona.
‘Yes, though the operational needs are complex. You will hear more on it when the others are gathered.’
‘And you have had no word from orbit? No word from the White Maw?’
‘Nothing. Is Second Squad’s teleportation beacon intact?’
‘Brother Ihu bears it still, yes.’
‘That is a blessing from Rangu. We may yet have use for it. Now tell me, what do you think of the Exile’s return?’
‘Such matters are of no concern to me,’ Kordi said, knowing it was an unworthy reply but unwilling to be drawn.
‘Such matters will become your concern if I am slain,’ Nuritona said bluntly. ‘As the strike leader of Second Squad, you are next in the chain of command.’
‘And who is above you, strike veteran? Company Master Kino, or a Void Exile with no name?’
A scraping noise issued from Nuritona’s vocaliser, a sound that might have been a sigh, or a hiss of exasperation. ‘Kino is unable to command. I doubt he ever even truly wished to. His misjudgements have left him adrift and of no use to Third Company.’
Such openness from the strike veteran was unusual, but Kordi supposed it was warranted, given the circumstances.
‘Has Sharr spoken of taking command?’ Kordi asked.
‘He seems unwilling to, but Te Kahurangi is convincing him. The Pale Nomad has set him upon the path and now makes him walk it, whether Sharr wills it or not.’
‘What of Chaplain Matiu?’ Kordi said, having noted the grim, black-armoured keeper of the company’s faith among the grey ranks. ‘Has he not made his thoughts on all this known?’
‘He is too young and clever for that,’ Nuritona said. ‘This is not a matter of doctrine. Te Kahurangi understands the Chapter’s tenets better than any. He has made sure that he has not suggested anything that would violate the Silent Litanies or any other precepts.’
‘If Nikora’s duty had not come to an end, he would have supported Sharr,’ Kordi said, almost surprising himself with the admission.
‘What makes you believe that?’
‘Because victory depends on survival. That means survival is our duty, and surviving will be easier with Bail Sharr and Te Kahurangi at our side.’
Nuritona let out a non-committal grunt.
‘We speak of Bail Sharr as though he is still the Company Master who led us for almost a century. The truth is, that brother might have died on the agri-platforms above Temperance, or in the years of exile since then. The Bail Sharr we knew may be gone forever, and I will not be the one responsible for pinning this company’s hopes on the existence of a phantom.’
Third Company convened, and heard the plan Te Kahurangi had devised. It was desperate, but that gave none of the Carcharodons any pause. It took little interrogation to prove that it was the only feasible strategy remaining.
‘We must proceed with caution,’ Te Kahurangi told Khauri before the column moved off. The Chief Librarian had drawn him to one side after the company’s command echelons had debated the course Te Kahurangi was proposing. They stood now immediately beneath the Diamantine Triumph, in its shadow.
‘More so than usual?’ Khauri asked with only the barest hint of humour.
‘The power of the Archenemy is growing by the moment. It is why we have been left with no choice other than this gambit. And they know us, my brother. The daemon they serve has been thwarted by our kind before, in the Outer Dark. By you as well.’
The shadows cast by the battered statue seemed to deepen around Khauri. He refused to acknowledge them, refused to turn and look into blind, metal-sculpted visages gouged and broken by battle.
‘Does what you spoke of earlier still stand?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ Te Kahurangi agreed. ‘The materium grows thin, but I fear my initial prognosis was mistaken. Their leader does not simply seek to create a fissure for the sea of souls to pour through. There is some deeper purpose behind the cult’s actions.’
‘Together, we would have the strength to quest once more, seek their reasoning,’ Khauri suggested, but Te Kahurangi shook his head, his thin lips pursed.
‘The risk is now too great. The barrier between realspace and the warp has become too fragile. I will attempt it, but only when I am in the enemy’s presence, where the connection can be made most easily. Besides, we cannot risk you. You have new duties to attend to.’
‘Do you think he is ready?’ Khauri asked.
‘I do not know. I have done what I can. Our best hope is that we will not have need of him, come the end. Do you understand the risks I am asking of you?’
‘I do,’ Khauri said. ‘I am prepared to do what must be done.’
‘Go to him,’ Te Kahurangi said.
‘Yes, master,’ Khauri murmured, and turned, seeking out Bail Sharr among the ranks.
It fell to the skitarii to lead the way to the Pinnacle. Protracted urban warfare was a dangerous waste as far as the Adeptus Astartes were concerned – opposition troops that would quickly be decimated in more open battle had greater protection and took longer to root out of makeshift positions, and the defensive lines that Space Marines excelled in punching through could be conducted in depth, slowing advances and heightening the danger of unacceptable casualties. All that was without the usual threats involved in such a style of warfare. Entire buildings could be rigged as booby traps; most of the Imperium’s enemies would be more than happy to expend one hab-block and dozens of lives as bait if it meant killing a single one of the Emperor’s Angels of Death.
Against these odds, two factors enabled the Carcharodon Astra to make rapid progress through Megafactorum Primus’ ruinous sprawl. The first was that, as the company’s planetside leadership had gauged from contacts since the beginning of the invasion, the Archenemy on Diamantus were uncoordinated and undisciplined. Most of the cult’s strength consisted of mutant wave attacks and roving daemon engines. The cult infantry that had been encountered were few in number and seemed to lack leadership above the company level. The deranged mobs of biomechanical experimentations that made up the bulk of the invasion were apparently incapable of any tactical nuance greater than throwing themselves on the guns of Imperial forces.
The second factor was the skitarii. Optio Zeta-One-One-Trio had greeted Magos Dominus Ze-One-Prime with the closest thing their programming permitted to joy, drawing their gladius and saluting their superior with a flourish. Ze-One-Prime had accepted the request for function subordination, assuming command of both their surviving skitarii and the optio. The combined force now acted as a buffer between the Carcharodons and first contact, pinning what resistance there was and allowing the Space Marines to strike swiftly and decisively. Fulfilling roles that would usually have been taken up by the Imperial Guard in combined-arms operations, Ze-One-Prime’s rad-troopers helped clear the way.
Sharr wondered whether the skitarii felt anger at the destruction of their city, or were motivated by the need for revenge or the urge to purge the mutant abominations they fought. Had all of that been stripped out of them, or, like the Carcharodons, was their bloodlust kept in check by mental reconstruction and brutal conditioning, raging beneath the surface of those cold waters?
It did not matter. They were efficient and deadly, two qualities the Carcharodons prized.
The advance proceeded more quickly than anticipated. The upper slopes of Mount Antikythera had stood shrouded in dust and smoke, but they began to resolve as the Carcharodons climbed higher, cutting down resistance as they went.
The changes that had been wrought by Grim Destiny’s hammer blow became clear. The mountaintop itself had been sundered, and now lay beneath the hulk’s remains. What had once been its upper back now formed a new peak of fractured, unstable asteroid rock and the jutting remains of ancient voidships, still entangled like arrows in the rotting carcass of some great beast.
Below this new, twisted crown, the Pinnacle’s entrance remained. Somehow the primary funicular that led to the small plateau before the doors was intact, and the Carcharodons fought up alongside it, using it as an objective marker amidst the dust and ruins. Frequently it fell to Rangu’s Hammer to lead the way, the siege tank’s scarred dozer blade ploughing through the heaps of rubble the uppermost slopes had been reduced to.
The advance slowed, but continued relentlessly, and as twilight once more deepened the gloom, the Space Marines and the remnants of their skitarii allies mounted the bluff and secured the doorway.
By then, Sharr and the other Exiles had already departed.
It was Khauri who led the trio of Exiles west, following the slope. The task before the Librarian was not one he relished, but if the plan was to succeed, it was vital.
That did not mean he approved of being separated from the main assault. Others would have found shame in being sent to assist a squad of Void Exiles, but Khauri was not hidebound by such beliefs. He had no doubt Te Kahurangi had done the right thing returning Bail Sharr to the fold, even if the former Company Master had refused to accept the same. The Chapter taught pragmatism and a cold, sometimes callous disregard for emotion. Exiles or not, Khauri was not troubled by the companions forced upon him.
He would play his part. All else rested upon the blessings of Rangu and the company’s strength-at-arms. Khauri had rarely known either to fail, whether the circumstances were desperate or not.
One of the Exiles, the former Techmarine they called Blood Eye, called for a halt and proffered the auspex he was carrying. Khauri consulted it, looking up to match the geolocation readings with the jagged peak just above them. They began climbing again, the plateau and the rest of the company now out of sight around the slope to the east.
They did so wearing armour that had been prepared for combat against the worst kinds of tech-heresy. Before moving out from around the Diamantine Triumph, Te Kahurangi, Khauri and Blood Eye had combined to do their best to bless and seal the company’s wargear against the corruption they were about to face. While the former Techmarine had serviced reactor packs and fibre bundles and interfaced with helmet displays, the two Librarians had inscribed wards upon the grey battle plate using handheld lascutters or simple chalk, murmuring the necessary rites as they did so. There was not enough time to ensure the entirety of Third Company were as thoroughly proofed against the taint of the daemonic as any of them would have liked, but it would have to serve.
Thanks to the fact that they had removed their helmets while they were inscribed, Khauri had found himself gazing upon Bail Sharr’s face for the first time in years. His pallid features had grown even more brutal with the work of the Rubicon Primaris, his eyes black as jet, teeth filed to points, as was common among the Chapter. Denticles, one of the afflictions that gripped some older Carcharodons, scabbed his throat and part of his face. He still bore the shark-and-scythe sigil of the Reaper Prime tattooed onto his left temple. The other side of his upper skull was reinforced by a bare metal plate, from which a jagged series of slashes radiated down over the right of his face, a legacy from the War in the Deeps.
Sharr had made no comment, no acknowledgement, when they had first locked eyes, merely returning the Librarian’s gaze in silence.
The ascent became a climb in the most literal sense. The plasteel and rockcrete cladding of the Pinnacle’s uppermost exterior had been pounded and shattered, interspersed with the broken remains of the asteroid that had once made up much of the core of Grim Destiny. The slope was too steep and broken to walk up even with auto-stabilisers engaged. Khauri was forced to lash his force staff to his reactor pack, Sharr likewise clamping Reaper as it became necessary to use both hands.
It was slow, difficult going, doubly so for Khauri. The taint surrounding him was strong, and he muttered invocations under his breath in an effort to ease his mind and calm the churning of the sea of souls, constantly dragging and tugging at his soul. Resisting it was exhausting, but he was determined not to admit how close he felt to being dragged under, either to the Exiles or to Te Kahurangi.
If the plan were to reach fruition, worse was to come.
They pressed on in silence, each picking their own route up. Khauri wondered how small and slow they must appear against the flank of the splintered mountain, little more than insects making a gradual and thoughtless procession.
Their objective only accentuated the sense of insignificance. It towered above them in the gloom of the gathering night, a voidship still partially buried prow-first into the hulk’s carcass. It had once been a vessel of the Imperial Navy, and though scarred by its centuries of captivity, its hull was still ranked with macrocannon ports and defence laser crenellations. It stood like some vast monolith to the fallen power of the Imperium, an idol that had once passed between stars now torn down from its vault and plunged into Diamantus’ peak.
The Carcharodons arrived at the cracked bedrock where it met the asteroid, clambering over the final ramp of rubble before reaching out to touch the pitted hull.
‘This is the one?’ Khauri asked Blood Eye. The Exile simply nodded.
The angle of the ship above them meant it was not entirely vertical, but the steepness would still require them to climb in a similar manner to their ascent of the slope.
They began to haul themselves up the hull, moving in single file this time, with the Exile that the others called Talon leading the way.
Things became marginally easier, if only for a short time. They were able to use mag clamps on the vessel’s armoured flank, sometimes even walking without the use of their hands. The superstructure itself was far from flat, but was studded with portholes, hatches, sensorium struts and secondary bulkhead layering. There were the broken and eroded remains of statuary too, from saints to great Imperial commanders to gargoyles, mimicking the architecture of the Ecclesiarchy’s cathedrals. Khauri used the cracked torso of one statue – judging by the remains of its stone-rendered power armour, once representing a member of the Adepta Sororitas – to heave himself up to the next section, finding himself momentarily gazing into her one remaining eye. The other half of her head had long ago broken off, leaving her with half a face, her expression still serene.
The macrocannon ports, all of them sealed, acted as platforms that could be used as staging areas to continue the climb. Some stretches of the hull were buckled and dented, either from battles long past or because of the debris that had pounded at the ship after its entrapment, but the dips further assisted the ascent.
Eventually they crested the ship’s flank and reached its spine, just beneath the bridge tower. The edifice seemed to leer down at them from its circular portholes, flanked by a cracked astropathic spire and the primary sensorium array.
A huge statue of the Emperor Ascendant stood behind the tower, presiding over the exterior of the bridge. Its titanic wings had once protectively enveloped its uppermost levels, but one had broken off and the other was bent out of shape. The features of the statue, like the rest of its detail, were long lost, eroded by century after century of radiation exposure and deep-space impacts. Khauri pondered it for a moment, considering the symbolism of Rangu rendered faceless. Perhaps it was a good omen. After all, it was not only Khauri’s current companions who were exiles. The entire Chapter still served out the terms of its banishment. Perhaps they did not yet deserve to stand beneath the gaze of the Emperor.
The chosen ingress point lay in the bridge’s base, where it met the ship’s spine. They pressed on, around the defence batteries that studded the back of the vessel.
They were still several hundred yards short of the hatch they were aiming for when Khauri sensed them. At almost the same time, Blood Eye spoke, shouting back down the hull.
‘Contacts!’
An eerie echo began to rise from within the ship itself, the piercing sound of metal scraping against metal. Khauri unslung his force staff, closed his eyes to find his focus, and braced himself with his free hand against the slope.
As, from broken ports and airlocks and venting ducts all around them, the metallic furies surged.
CHAPTER XXVI
The entrance to the Pinnacle yawned ahead of the main body of Third Company, the circular doorway like the gaping eye socket of a skull. It had been torn open, the bodies of mutants and Martian priests strewn indiscriminately across the steps leading up to it.
Nuritona ordered Rangu’s Hammer, Black Scythe, and Sixth Squad to form a cordon and hold the entranceway. It would be the company’s only option for egress once they entered the mountain.
Second Squad were ordered to take point, just as Kordi had hoped. The Archenemy were present – he could practically taste their greasy, sickly filth. It stirred his blood, set his body on edge, eager to kill. He channelled the lusts into cold efficiency, issuing a terse series of formation instructions and engagement protocols as they ascended the steps and reached the broken doorway.
