Chapter 2 Part 5

Chapter 2: Dawn of war

Part 5​

Arbiter's HQ

Jenova Town

Kronus

It took five nerve wracking minutes for the rest of the platoon and Whent's marines to reach us. The news from orbit weren't good – the growing Warpstorm was threatening to cut us off from reinforcements if it didn't "stabilize" soon. Even worse, the captain of the Strike Cruiser told Anteas that the orbital strike appeared to be unsuccessful. Before warp derived disturbances blanketed their sensors with static and other, less pleasant things, the Astarte's in orbit saw a Chaos Gate forming and a lot of traitor forces pouring through.

We had elements of a traitor legion on site, which meant that unless we all cleaned up our act, we were dead… if we were lucky.

My job just got that much more important and I still had no real idea how to do it besides rely on my new-found authority and pray to the Emperor that it would be enough… I spent the last few minutes trying to plan a course of action that wasn't going to needlessly get people killed and reached the predictable conclusion that I simply lacked the experience to do so. I was supposed to be training how to be a proper little Inquisitorial agent, not the real thing, damn it!

Predictably, we didn't get out without incident – it was that kind of day. Pickos just emerged from the main entrance, followed by her soldiers, more than a few of whom were carrying wounded, when I could feel static electricity building in the air. A loud whining followed by a snap-crack and a flash of light erupted from the edge of the null field surrounding the Chimeras. Chunks of steaming meat and glowing armor exploded outwards and started raining all over the plaza.

A dozen or so rapid flashes followed, deploying huge men randomly just beyond the null field. Most of them wore furs and leathers, though that didn't make their wicked chain swords and axes any less lethal. The small warband was led by a pair of even larger traitor marines, who were armored from head to toe and carrying very large guns.

I stared at the madmen who risked teleporting while a warp storm was being born. For a moment, they were surrounded by a corona of dissipating warp energy, which almost immediately discharged into the surrounding area. My training kicked in just as they gave bloodcurdling war-cries and charged us with no care for their own well-being.

Our Astartes were already reacting – aiming at the madmen. However, they concentrated on the major threat – the traitor marines, which gave a chance to the berserkers to close in.

I drew my weapons and opened fire at the closest madmen. The Chimera next to me was lucky – it's gunner was pointing a heavy bolter in the general direction of the enemy and immediately opened up, blowing a pair of heretics into bloody gore. Anteas, who was under the null field, wasted no time and charged a nearby maniac, who was wielding a pair of chain-axes, while the rest of the marines were busy riddling their traitorous brethren with bolter shells.

We would have emerged from this ill timed attack mostly unscratched, if it wasn't for one nasty fact – four of the madmen appeared almost on top of Pickos and her people. The guardsmen wasted no time in opening fire, however they managed to down only two berserkers, before the rest were within melee range and started swinging. I saw that from the corner of my eye and then I was too busy to pay any more attention to anything but giant barreling towards me.

I shot him twice in the chest, which only ignited the furs he was wearing, revealing that he had some kind of armor underneath. My shots only pissed him off - he roared and swung a huge, two-handed axe at me, intent on splitting me in two. I jumped aside in the last moment, feeling the displaced air as the mighty cleave passed a few centimeters from my left shoulder. I wasted no time and retaliated with an ill aimed swipe.

The man moved with a surprising agility and almost got out of range. The adamantine teeth of my blade caught his biceps and tore through the muscle, leaving an ugly gash in his left hand. That didn't slow him down in the slightest. He roared in rage and pain, and swung his axe again, as if it was a child's toy instead of a huge weapon that had to weight at least twenty kilograms.

All I could do was to jump back and pray. The swipe did miss me, but it caught the side of my sword and tore it from my hand. I spat a curse and backpedaled. I raised my laspistol and started shooting at the man's head…

I missed as he gave me an ugly smile and charged straight at me.

I stumbled at something and fell on my ass, which left me an easy target. I had just enough time to take a hasty shot and curse my luck, before the madman was towering above me. Then his bloodthirsty grin and the head it was attached to were replaced by pink steam. The headless corpse swung on its feet for couple of seconds, then it started slowly toppling towards me.

"Fuck my luck!" I hissed and rolled away.

"You all right, sir?" Santos was next to me a moment later, offering me a hand.

"Thanks." I muttered. Good fellas, saving my life like that. I think I was going to keep them.

I looked around. The enemy done in, though we didn't emerge unscratched. The first casualty I saw was one of the Astartes. His left arm hanged useless and the arm was missing everything below the elbow. Fuck. Those traitors managed at least on shot more or less on target even when two squads were busy emptying their bolters in them. I was suddenly very glad that I wasn't faced with a real traitor marine and had to content with just an initiate at worst… and he almost took my head too, the wanker.

I shuddered at the thought of how close to dying I got.

"Emperor damned heretics..." I muttered and looked back at where Pickos was. "Fuck."

The LT was all right, though I couldn't say the same for her people. Those bastards that hit them apparently managed to cut down at least half a dozen guardsmen before being shot to pieces – almost literally – the maniacs had so many cauterized holes in them that it was a miracle that they were more or less in one piece.

"Get the wounded on the Chimeras and lets move on before they hit us again!" I ordered.

The poor bastards gutted by those heretics weren't among the wounded – the chain weapons had killed everyone they hit.

I hoped that this was just a raid of opportunity or something, because otherwise we may not make it back. If we were hit by a dozen traitor marines instead, most of us would be gone – I had no doubt about that.

The only good news was that we got a few minutes to load everyone, with the Astartes taking a ride on the roofs, then left without being attacked again. The Emperor only knew if we could make it to friendly held territory without being hit again.