I'm about to ask somebody to get in contact with the Colonel when I see him walking through the blast doors at the far end of the shuttle bay. He glances out of the windows as I hurry over to him.
'We need to get armed, sir/ I tell him. They're expecting a boarding action/
'I know/ he replies turning his attention to me. I see he has his power sword hanging in its scabbard from his belt, and a holster on his other hip for his bolt pistol. 'I have informed the armsmen. They will issue you with weapons when they have finished assembling the naval parties/
'Where should we be, sir?' I ask as we walk back towards the platoon. The Navy boys seem to know what they're doing. Where can we help out?'
You are right. They can manage without us interfering,' he agrees, pulling his bolt pistol out and cocking the safety off. *We shall act as a reserve, behind the Navy teams. If they look like they are faltering, we will advance and support them/
That seems sensible. I'm all for staying behind the ratings and armsmen. After all, they're the ones trained for this sort of thing, in short-range firefights and close melee, and they've got the heavy duty armour to keep them safe in that sort of scrap. While we're waiting for the armsmen to dish out the weapons, I order the dropships secured, more to keep the men busy than because of any fears that having them open will help the eldar.
We're just finishing that when the armsmen bring over a trolley of weapons. They start handing out shotguns and shell bandoleers to everyone. I grab one and sling it over my shoulder and then snatch a bundle of electro-gaffs, calling over the squad sergeants to take one each and keeping one for myself. Looking back out of the windows I can see fire from our measly batteries flaring towards the miasma of colour that is the eldar ship. It doesn't seem to be damaged at all; it changes course to come alongside us, slowing its speed to match ours.
The whole ship shudders violently as the captain orders evasive manoeuvres and retro-jets spring into life, cutting our speed suddenly and hurling us sideways. This gives us a respite for only half a minute or so before a livid purple stream of energy pours out of the cloud of shifting colours, striking us somewhere near the aft section and causing the ship to tremble under detonations.
They have disabled the engines/ the Colonel says from beside me, his face grim as ever. 'Now mey will board/
I see smaller shapes detach themselves from the multicoloured fog, heading towards us. They must be using assault boats, I deduce. I can see half a dozen of them, and they seem to be heading straight for us. I think it must be an illusion but then I perceive that they are actually heading straight for us. They grow larger and larger in the windows and I hear the clattering of boots on the metal decking as more men pour into the shuttle bay from the surrounding areas of the ship. I push half a dozen cartridges into the chamber of the shotgun and
pump them ready to fire. Holding the electro-gaff under my left arm, I herd the platoon back towards the wall, away from the windows and launch doors.
'Wait for the Colonel's order and follow my lead!' I shout out to them. I see a few of them glancing around, looking to see if there's an opportunity to get away, but as I follow their gazes I see that the doors have all been shut again. Glancing overhead I notice a trio of Navy officers in the control tower, looking out through the massive plate windows at their men below.
"They're here!' I hear someone bellowing from the front of the bay. I can see the sleek, menacing shapes of the assault boats dropping down past the windows, each patterned in strange, flowing stripes of black purple and red. A few seconds later, patches of the walls to either side of the launch doors glow blue as the assault boats use some kind of energy field to burn their way through. With an explosion of light the first breach is made to my right, throwing sparks and debris onto the decking. Almost at once other detonations flare to my left and right and the Navy parties begin to open fire, the thunder of their shotguns resounding around the large chamber. The flare of gunfire flickers across my vision, joined by the odd burst of light from a lascannon or something similar.
From where I am I can't see anything of our attackers, but I can see men being hurled to the floor by blasts of dark energy, or torn to shreds by hails of fire. Right in front of me I see a pulsing star of blackness burst through die Navy ranks, smashing through a handful of men, tossing their charred bodies into die air and flinging severed limbs and heads in all directions. Everybody seems to be shouting at once, adding to the cacophony of die gunfire. Hoarse screams of agony or panic echo off the walls and die clatter of spent shell cases rings from the decking. The air stinks widi the cordite from two hundred shotguns, the stench of burnt flesh and abattoir smell of dismembered and decapitated bodies. As I glance around trying to work out what the hell is going on, everything is in anarchy, flashes of lasfire mixing in with the bark of shotguns and the shrill, whickering noise from the eldar's splinter rifles and cannons.
It's impossible to see how many we're facing, or whether we're holding them back or not. I can see mounds of dead
everywhere, men crawling away holding onto mutilated limbs or clasping wounds on their bodies and heads. Another explosion rocks the grates of the decking, a fireball blossoms far to my left where a generator or something goes up. Shots are whisding overhead now, impacting on the ironwork of the control tower support, hissing and bubbling as mey melt through the girders holding the control room a dozen metres above the deck. A shutde to my right bursts into a huge fireball, a hail of shrapnel scything through the men around it, cutting them down widi a cloud of sharp-edged debris.
'It is time/ the Colonel says, stepping forward, the pulsing blue of his power swoid illuminating his face from beneath. He nods his head towards the right where I can just see the first alien warriors through die diinned ranks of the Navy ratings and armsmen. The/re wearing armour striped in the same colours as rneir attack ships. Their armour is plated and covered in blades and spikes, which glisten in the erratic light of the firelight. They stand about a head taller than the men around diem, but are slim to the point of being emaciated. They move widi a graceful, flowing motion mat seems entirely effortless. With a speed that the most hardened human fighter would find difficult to match, I see them cutting left and right with close combat weapons made of exotic blades and barbed whips. A man's head spins to the ground as one of them tears through his throat with a backhand slash from its sword, before turning on its heel to plunge the blade through the stomach of another Navy man. There's an aura of malice about them, a rathlessness betrayed by the odd shrill laugh or extravagant gesture.
There's a moment when the aliens in front of us stand on their own, about two dozen of them, widi dead and dying Navy men littering the deck around their feet. Without any order being needed everybody opens fire at once, the heat from the volley washing over me and causing sweat to jump out of my skin. I pump the shotgun and fire again, the haft of my gaff wedged between the top of die breach and under my arm, and I see one of the eldar thrown back by the impart, bright blood spattering into the air. To our left, more come leaping towards us, easily cutting through die few men in meir path.
There's a thudding of booted feet to our right and a squad of armsmen rush up and join us.
They're breaking through towards the main corridor!' their petty officer screams, gesturing towards the far end of the bay with his assault shotgun. His visor is pushed back and I see his hate-filled snarl as he opens up with the shotgun, a dozen shots crashing dirough the approaching eldar in the space of a few seconds. Pulling the dram magazine from die shotgun and flinging it aside, he leads his men past us. I see Donalson leading his squad after them, and I let them go. The Colonel stands to my left, power sword in one hand, bolt pistol levelled at the enemy in the other.