‘Stay keen,’ said Sergeant Dor. ‘They’re planning something. Be ready.’
IN THE HULL of the second Rhino in the column, Navar Hef sat on the narrow seat with his bolter across his lap. The transport rocked wildly from side to side as it sped over the uneven ground of the rad-fields, but his suit compensated for most of the movement so that he just swayed back and forth a little.
‘Rapid deployment, thirty seconds!’ snapped Sergeant Cald. ‘Weapons check.’
Navar went through a quick inspection of his bolter and grenades. He unhooked the fastener on the sheath of his combat knife and tested the magnetic grips on the spare magazines clamped to his belt and thighs. All was in order, as it had been when he had boarded the Rhino.
‘Stand ready!’
Cald and his nine Raptors stood up and turned towards the rear hatchway. The bumping of the Rhino was more pronounced, but the gyrostabilisers of the Mark VI armour kept Navar balanced. He took a step backwards as the Rhino trundled to a halt.
Drop-bolts exploded along the sides of the hatch, dropping down the access ramp. Navar was the fourth out, fanning to the right with three other squad members. He saw movement through the doorway of a collapsed building ahead and fired without hesitation. His bolt-round found its mark, an arm swathed in bandage-like cloth sent spinning into view.
‘Enemy, twenty-five metres, secondary arc,’ Navar reported breathlessly.
The squad reformed without any need for command, laying down a curtain of fire into the rubble of the ruined building, leaving contrails in the ruddy miasma and fist-sized holes in the rockcrete walls.
‘Cease,’ ordered Cald. ‘Section one, move up. Section two, flank protection.’
Navar was in section two, so he held his ground and kept watch to the right. The sergeant led his team of five men towards the ruins, their black armour almost disappearing in the haze.
They were nearly out of sight, no more than twenty metres from the closest broken wall, when light flared through the gloom. An arc of lightning erupted from a stairwell leading down to a basement level, earthing into the lead Raptor. His armour and body exploded, sending bloody fragments of bone and ceramite thudding into the legionaries around him. Navar had never heard mention of anything like it during the training exercises.
‘Emperor’s oath, that’s a stormcannon!’ yelled Cald. ‘Saturation fire! Level that building!’
Switching his bolter to full automatic, Navar emptied the remaining bolts from his magazine into the enemy position, the crackle of the detonations just a few flickers amongst the storm that engulfed the stairwell. Behind Navar, the remote cupola of the Rhino opened up, hammering away with combi-bolter fire. As he slapped home another magazine, the Raptor’s hearts kicked into high combat pulse, flooding his body with adrenal compounds, seeming to slow time as his nervous system surged in response.
His auto-senses blacked momentarily. When they returned, Navar saw the fiery trail of a plasma jet streaking through the mist. The Rhino’s point-defence missile had passed within a metre of him, causing the blackout. It detonated in an airburst just above the insurgents’ den, showering white-hot promethium across the stairs and wall.
‘Pull back to the Rhino,’ said Sergeant Cald, calm and authoritative. The lead team started to withdraw as the promethium melted through the rockcrete, turning it to a dwindling pile of burning slag. ‘Commander Branne, encountering guild-tech weapons. We might have a problem.’
As they returned, one of the surviving Raptors from the forward section stumbled. At first Navar thought he had just lost his footing, but as the Raptor pushed himself to his knees, he spasmed violently, his bolter flying from his grasp. Navar had not seen any weapons fire and his first thought was of some other unknown guild-tech the sergeant had not warned them about. Just as he thought this, Navar heard grunting over the squad vox-link and turned to see the Raptor to his right falling to one knee, his head rocking madly forwards and back.
Tightness gripped Navar’s chest. It reminded him of the sensation of fear he had used to feel before his transformation, though he felt no dread attached to the cramping. A sudden burning shot up his spine, causing Navar to gasp with pain. He tried to fight the urge to crouch, his legs and pelvis felt as if they had been shattered.
‘Hef? Lastar? Devor?’ He didn’t recognise the voice, but the panic it conveyed was something he had never expected to hear from a Raven Guard.
The Raptor realised he had fallen to his knees and looked up to see Sergeant Cald standing over him, looking rapidly to the left and right. Another surge of flaming agony roared across Navar’s chest, his muscles contorting, throwing him to his back. He couldn’t help the scream that erupted from him. He smelled and tasted blood inside his helm.
‘In the Rhino! Get in the Rhino!’ Cald was bellowing. The sergeant grabbed one of Navar’s arms and started dragging him to the transport.
‘I can… make it…’ Navar snarled, pushing himself to his feet. He stumbled a few steps and hurled himself onto the Rhino’s ramp. The impact sent another shuddering burst of pain through his body.
‘Command, command!’ Cald’s voice over the vox was almost lost under the pounding in Navar’s ears. ‘Urgent evacuation needed. All Raptors are down. I repeat, all of the Raptors non-combatant.’
‘I know,’ came Branne’s terse reply. ‘It’s happening across most of the squads. No assistance available. Get them back to Ravendelve as best you can.’
Navar felt himself lifted bodily into the Rhino, seeing the helm insignia of his sergeant through a crazy patterning of hyper-inflated blood vessels in his eyes. He was dumped onto the floor, landing on top of another Raptor; the marking on his shoulder pad rim marked him out as Devallia. Navar saw Devallia tearing at his helmet, trying to rip it free. After a few seconds, the seals snapped and the helm came off, tossed away by the frenzied Raptor.
He found himself looking into a pair of inhuman eyes, almost completely red with blood, save for pupils that had shrunk to dark pinpricks. Navar was gripped with horror as he saw veins and muscles pulsing beneath blackening skin. Devallia cried out, and in opening his mouth revealed another row of sharpened teeth erupting from his gums. Corrosive saliva dribbled onto his chestplate, hissing and spitting where it fell.
The Rhino jerked into motion, rolling Navar to his back. He stared up at Sergeant Cald, who was crouched at the open ramp, one hand held to the brow of his helm as he shook his head in disbelief.
‘Sergeant…’ The words were difficult to form, Navar’s tongue feeling swollen in his throat. He held a hand out towards Cald and noticed long claws had broken through the fingertips of his gauntlets. ‘Sergeant? What’s happening to me?’
Cald looked at him for several seconds, as if he had no answer to give. Then he stepped closer and stooped over Navar, clasping his deformed hand in his own.
‘Stay strong, legionary,’ said Cald. ‘Remember who you are. You are Raven Guard.’
PART THREE
MONSTERS AND MARTYRS
FIFTEEN
The Fortunate Ones
Divided Loyalties
The Legionnaires Revealed
HE HAD ONLY wanted to buy a little more time, but as he crouched next to the receiver beneath the bent girders of a toppled viaduct Omegon was delighted with the static-broken message passed on by the cryptoduct. The poor quality of the signal was due to a communications block being broadcast from the Ravenspire. It was the response Omegon had been depending on, though it meant his own transmissions would be severely hampered. The message was from Contact Three, who knew nothing of his fellow Alpha Legionnaire’s action.