'We should get into this fight,' said Uriel.
'With what?' pointed out Pasanius. 'Kain's lot seem like they know what they're doing.'
That at least was true. Colonel Kain's Chimeras were roaring forward to protect the damaged vehicles while spraying bright bolts of las-fire into the buildings on either side of the street.
The soldiers were fighting from their vehicles, letting the armour take the weight of small-arms fire while the turrets opened up with the snapping fizz of heavy las-bolts. A Chimera pulled ahead of Uriel in a skid of dirt and fumes as it sought to protect a damaged one.
Hard bangs of gunfire echoed from the turret-mounted heavy bolter, the rounds chewing up the stone parapets of the opposite buildings. Uriel saw puffs of red and heard screams over the incessant gunfire. The shooters had sprung their ambush well, but they were hunkered down behind a parapet that might as well have been fashioned from paper for all the protection it provided against bolter rounds.
Uriel watched as a loping Sentinel unleashed a torrent of autocannon rounds towards a group of men moving between the ruins. The heavy calibre shells exploded among them and they all fell, chewed up and unrecognisable, their blood spraying on the pale stone walls in looping arcs.
A shot rang out, distinctive and high pitched, and the Sentinel pilot's head snapped back, a ragged hole punched in the back of his head. Sniper.
Uriel glanced in the direction of the shot and saw the blurred outline of the shooter through the smoke of the battle. More of the Chimeras were pulling up to the damaged ones and soldiers were helping their comrades from the blazing wrecks to pull them inside those that had, thus far, escaped attack.
Uriel risked a glance around the bullet-chipped corner that he sheltered behind. To stand by and watch a battle being fought around him was anathema to him, and he knew he could not sit idly by while others were dying around him.
He turned to Pasanius, but before he could open his mouth, his sergeant said, 'You're going in, I know. Go. I'll cover you.'
Uriel nodded and slid from the alleyway, running towards a damaged Chimera that listed horribly to one side. Smears of blood and oil streaked its surfaces and smoke spat from its stinking interior. Its main gun was buckled, but Uriel had seen that its pintle-mounted weapon was still intact.
Bullets filled the air, the distinctive whine and buzz of them telling Uriel how close they were. Ricochets spanged from armour and he felt a burning line across his calf of something hot and sharp.
He dived into the cover of the listing Chimera and rolled to his feet in its shadow. He gripped the upper edge of the Chimera's hull and swung himself up onto its roof, scrambling across the upper armour towards the pintle-mounted gun. He snapped off the safety and swung the weapon around, his posture unsuited to firing it, but his strength more than able to bear the brunt of its recoil.
The sniper reared up to take aim at another Sentinel and Uriel pressed down on the palm triggers. The noise of the weapon was deafening, uncompromising, and designed to intimidate as much as wound. Heavy slugs spat from the barrel in a flaring burst. Uriel's target flew apart into flesh chunks and a fountain of blood.
He swivelled the weapon on its mount, raking the pounding thump of heavy bullets across the parapet line of the buildings opposite. Clay bricks dissolved under the impacts, blasted to powder by the high velocity slugs. The recoil was prodigious, but easily controllable by the strength of a Space Marine.
A las-bolt creased Uriel's shoulder and he flinched at the sudden pain, but kept his weapon trained on the roof-lines opposite. Arcs of bronze shells spewed from the smoking breech.
'Uriel!' shouted Pasanius from below. 'Your left!'
He turned towards where Pasanius was gesturing with the stump of his arm, seeing a flicker of movement between two blackened hulks of tanks that were now homes. A group of three men were preparing to launch a missile, and Uriel pulled the trigger as he brought his weapon to bear.
The bullets described a curving line as the weapon discharged, the impacts ringing like the sound of a hundred bells as they ricocheted from metal hulls. One man was hurled from his feet, a hole the size of his torso blasted in his body.
To their credit, neither of the other two men balked at the horrific death of their comrade, but kept the missile tube aimed squarely at the Chimera that Uriel sat upon. He kept the weapon trained on them, but the gun coughed dry, the hammer snapping on an empty chamber.
Uriel could see triumph on the gunner's face as he closed one eye. Then his head exploded.
Uriel heard the distinctive report of a bolt weapon and saw Pasanius running towards him from the alleyway, the welcome sight of a bolt pistol bucking in his left hand. His sergeant fired again and the second man was pitched from his feet. A tremendous explosion mushroomed skyward as Pasanius's next bolt connected with the spare warheads in the canvas sack he wore.
The gunner's missile corkscrewed up from his fallen corpse, spinning wildly before exploding and smearing the sky with black tendrils of smoke.
More grinding sounds of tracks and the heavier, percussive thump of concentrated volleys of fire filled the air and Uriel released the grips of the heavy stubber. Colonel Kain's soldiers had the situation under control and Uriel could add little to the battle.
He saw a flash of green and gold and looked up to see a cloaked man with a shaved head and forked beard through a pulverised section of parapet. The man was shouting, but his words were inaudible over the roar of gunfire and the mad revving of engines.
Even Uriel's enhanced hearing could make out little of what the man was saying, but the sense of his words was clear as gun barrels vanished from rooftops. The weight of fire fell away as the ambushers disengaged and melted into the tumbled ruins.
The man risked one last glance from the rooftops and his eyes locked with Uriel's.
Uriel knew hate when he saw it. He had seen enough on Medrengard to last a lifetime.
This man hated him and wanted him dead, and not just him, but everyone in this bloody, smoke-filled street: the Falcatas, Uriel, Pasanius and every soldier who fought and shouted to their wounded comrades.
The man vanished from view and Uriel rolled from the roof of the Chimera.
He landed in the dirt beside Pasanius.
'Thanks for the warning,' said Uriel. 'That missile could have really spoiled my day.'
'No problem,' replied Pasanius. 'He'd have probably missed anyway. These idiots didn't know they were beaten until it was too late for them.'
Uriel had to agree with his friend's assessment of their opponents. The Falcatas had taken a serious hit when the ambush had been sprung, but had reacted with commendable speed and calm. The soldiers had followed their training and got into the fight without the confusion and panic that might have handed their attackers a victory.
Instead of retreating after their initial success, the ambushers had fought for longer than was sensible and had suffered the worst of the encounter, unable to match the discipline and firepower of a well-led force of Imperial Guard.
'Did you see the man with the green and gold cloak?' asked Uriel.
'I did,' said Pasanius, awkwardly trying to reload the bolt pistol. 'He looked like the leader. Stupid of him to wear something so noticeable though.'
'That's what I thought,' agreed Uriel, taking the bolt pistol from Pasanius and sliding a fresh magazine home. 'Where did you get this?'
'From him,' said Pasanius, indicating a dead sergeant of the Falcatas at the edge of the battlefield with a chunk of shrapnel the size of a shoulder guard buried in his face. 'Didn't think he'd be needing it again and thought it would be appropriate to use his own weapon to avenge him.'