Warp Rift #18 Supplement - Tyranid War - part III.pdf - Warp Rift - trzeci

Horizon

Warp Rift

Presents

Reg Steiner

A Tyranid War

Chapters 7

Cover Model: Giulio Taverna, Cover Photoshop Claudio Sansone

Internal Art: Stugmeister, Juddski

Chapter 7

A Very Little Affair

I.______

The figure stood silhouetted against the skyline. The wind whipped his long blond brown hair, the gray ragged

clouds scudding hurriedly across the storm wracked sky behind him.

It is not wise to frame oneself against a bright sky where an enemy can see you, but this warrior was unafraid.

He knew the enemy was there, and he knew that the enemy were aware of him. He was also a Captain, leader of a

brotherhood of Marines, warriors for their Emperor, who named themselves Centurions after that famous one

hundred.

The Captain surveyed the distant fortress a final time. The shimmer and wavering air looked like heat waves

rising before the fortress. This cold, windblown part of the planet had never known heat waves. The powerful

force field was revealed by the bending of the light in that way. The fortress was dug into the distant cliff face, so

that a single face, a single means of approach, was all that was revealed. The weapons turrets, the firing ports, and

the shields all added up to a formidable place to attack. At least the enemy thought so. The Captain was about to

teach them that this was not so. With practiced indifference, the Captain turned his back on his enemies, and

calmly stepped down the steep slope to the waiting marines just behind the ridge.

A lieutenant stepped up to the Captain, and also removed his own helmet.

"I just received word Captain," The Lieutenant said loudly into the wind, "the two cruisers will be coming over

the orbital horizon in just a few more minutes. They will begin the bombardment the moment they do. Both ship

commanders say that their orbital speed is such that they will not be able to fire for more than four minutes. Not

enough to even strain that powerful of a force shield."

The Captain smiled. "The cruisers, and other ships for that matter, need only net any pirate ships that try to

blast off the surface. The force shield must stay up for my plan to work." The Captain then snapped his helmet

into place with one smooth motion.

"Permission to question the Captain." The Lieutenant said evenly into the comm set, after following his

Captain's lead and replacing his helmet.

"One question, then we must be ready for our assault to begin." The Captain replied.

"Yes sir," The Lieutenant began. "What purpose will the bombardment serve if it cannot pierce the shield?

Won't we still take heavy casualties crossing so much open ground?"

"That's two questions. But the one answer will serve for both." The Captain said. The Captain looked out

across his troops. All two hundred sets of helmet lenses were on him and the Lieutenant. They were on an open

comm frequency. "These pirates may know how to fight, but they are ignorant of war. The shield they use

prevents firing out, as well as in at them. In four minutes, we must all be hard against the edge of the shield. The

pirates will not dare drop their defense to fire at us while the bombardment lasts. Their best defense will prove

their undoing. Now you all know my mind, and my plan. Remember, we must smash through to the prisoners as

fast as possible, before the enemy is aware we are here to rescue, rather then punish. To the edge of the ridge now,

brothers."

In a moment, all two hundred marines were pressed close together, close to the top of the ridge. From even a

small distance, the varying shades of green that made up the brotherhood's armor made the top of the ridge look as

if green growing things had at last taken root in this desolate place.

Without moving enough to dislodge a grain of sand, they all waited the remaining few minutes for the end of

the silence.

Without a sound, a brilliant flash lit up the surrounding landscape all the way to the horizon. Then: Bwaamm!!

Before the sound completely died away, all the green armored warriors were up, and bounding toward the far

cliff wall. The jump sets on the backs of each marine fired briefly, lifting them into a series of shallow bounds,

firing again just as each marine neared the ground to prevent too severe an impact to the powered armor. In this

way the marines were covering the distance at about ninety-five kilometers per hour.

A number of specially ceramic covered reentry vehicles tore through the atmosphere, to crash into the enemy

shield in a series of kilometer wide flares of super hot plasma. The continuous flash and flare of beam weapons,

scattering across the face of the energy shield, made for weird and garish contrasts of light and shadow across the

landscape. While the hard charging marines were still five kilometers away, the last of the big missiles burned

along the perimeter of the shield. A wide swath of the ground glowed white hot along the boundary of the shield,

bubbling and smoking. The near constant stream of beamer blasts continued to rain down, into the enemy shield,

from increasingly steep overhead angles.

The charging marines had arrayed themselves into two lines of one hundred marines, one behind the other, each

marine separated by twenty meters in the line, and two hundred meters between lines. Maneuvering room to allow

high speed changes in direction.

Just as the marines neared the enemy shield, they all began to converge again, massing together to concentrate

their power.

The last strokes of the hammering from space fell only a moment before the marines reached the now redly

glowing energy shield. For a moment, the enemy was at a loss because of the sudden quiet. Then, the energy

shield snapped off with a final flare of released energy, into the faces of the marines. Every fortress turret and

portal erupted with a stream of weapons fire.

A quick burn from the jump sets, and the marines were against the walls, atop the turrets, or firing into slits and

portals, before all the defenders could find their weapons triggers. The marines were on them so quickly, most

defenders were only just realizing what was happening.

Turrets erupted in flame and smoke, pieces sailing through the air. Steady glare of white, as sections of wall,

and the gates, melted and collapsed under the onslaught of marine heavy weapons, carried into battle as you would

carry a pistol.

The rapidly bounding green clad figures sweep into the fortress through many openings, within moments of

each other. The fight for the inside of the fortress takes barely longer than the crossing of the open ground had

taken.

The marines charge down passageways, firing steadily. Doors collapse, and grenades arc into the center of the

room beyond the door. The marine that tossed the grenade is already at the next door, repeating the procedure,

before the first grenade impacts and explodes. And always the marine's weapon is hammering steadily, seemingly

in every direction. The fortress is filled with the sound of the steady hammering of marine weapons.

A bare few of the pirates are able to respond to the suddenness of the assault. A very few manage to pour a

stream of fire into the marine that suddenly appears before them. Sometimes they hit the marine, sometimes they

don't. The rest of the pirates that are able to respond to the suddenness of the assault choose to run. One lone

destroyer sized ship rockets out of the underground tube it had sheltered in.

The pirates are a cross section of every space faring race in the galaxy. Some are from warrior races. These do

not run. These pirates stand and die. The marines knew this would be so, with some of their opponents. The

marines met the last of these in hand to hand battle, blade to blade, in the darkened passageways.

Then, only the wind could be heard, as it carried away the smoke of battle.

II._____

The Captain sat on the side of an overturned great chair. Three paces to one side was the ruined corpse of the

pirate captain-leader. An Eldar by race, the pirate leader must have been a warrior before his corruption.

Ambushed upon entering the room, the Captain and Eldar had struggled for some moments, power armor against

power armor, locked in a death dance embrace. The Captain at the last activated his jump set at just the right

moment. The Eldar caught the full force of the thrust on the stone ceiling. Stunned, the Eldar could not prevent the

Captain from breaking an arm free. The Captain fired a single shot into the base of his opponent's neck, and let the

body fall where it now lay. When the echo of the shot died away, all was quiet throughout the fortress.

The green silhouette of the lieutenant appeared in the doorway, framed by the fragments of the shattered double

doors.

"We have found and released the prisoners." The lieutenant said quietly. He had seen his commander brood

before. "They all require medical attention. We have also found one that claims to be an Inquisitor. She needs

medical attention as well, but commands me to bring her to you."

"Where is she?" The Captain asked.

"Her stretcher is being carried up from the cave below."

"Bring her here." The Captain said simply.

"Aye." The lieutenant replied, then vanished into the dark passage.

A few minutes later, the Captain was looking down on a woman in a thin white covering, arms and legs

sticking out from under the thin covering, and beyond the edges of the stretcher. This woman did not want

anything touching her hands or feet. Her hands and feet were blackened from fire. The effort at control of the pain,

the effort at control of the mind of this woman, was carving deep lines on her face.

"I am an Inquisitor." Lynx stated coldly, she said the next sentence more warmly. "I have great need of you,

good Captain."

"Inquisitor, or no, you will be taken to a shuttle, and then to my cruiser. There you will have the medical care

you need to mend. The truth of who you are can wait for you to heal." The Captain said, almost kindly.

"My time is too precious to waste while I drift in the tanks." Lynx said firmly, "You must assist me in my task

immediately."

"While you sleep in the tanks, we will confirm who you are." The Captain replied, just as firmly, "I will not

take up a task of someone unknown to me." With a motion of his left hand, the Captain indicated for the two

marines who brought her to carry her off.

Lynx had taken the measure of this man in a moment. Further insistence was a wasted effort. It would

probably be taken as weakness to pursue a lost cause. Maybe he was right. Relief from the pain would be welcome

as well. It was taking to much effort, to many mental resources, to block the pain. Lynx surrendered to her fate.

The Captain watched the woman be carried out. Inquisitor or not, the Captain felt certain that the woman was

trouble, in several forms.

A sergeant came forward with a video log. The Captain took it, and viewed the contents. The log said that

nearly two thousand pirates had been killed, and a further three hundred were captured. A small ship had tried to

shoot its way out of the system, but was now a smoldering shell. The log also said that sixteen marines were dead,

and twenty eight were wounded. All the wounded would fight again. The Captain read the names of every one of

the casualties. He knew every one.

The Captain began to give orders. He wanted to be quit of this place in twelve hours. There was much to do.

III.____

Lynx lay staring at the polished metal ceiling, her mind fighting to quell the frustration. Just lying here,

waiting, would drive her mad she feared. She had been awake long enough for two meal periods to pass, and still

she lay strapped down, alone, tubes in the veins of her upper legs and neck. Lying on the too stiff bed, feeling her

newly cloned skin itch, was all she had been able to do for hours. Yes, she would surely go mad any moment now.

The whisper of the enviro-room door opening and closing, behind her head, caused Lynx to forget everything

she had been thinking. Her mind snapped into focus, and waited.

"Would you care for someone to intrude on your thoughts?" A barely heard voice asked from behind Lynx's

head.

"I would welcome any distraction from this sterile loneliness." Lynx replied.

"I promise to be a distraction." The voice was louder, and firm. Then the tall male form came around into

Lynx's view. He was wearing a one piece garment of white, with a broad green trim around the edges. His hair

was long and blond brown. Uncharacteristic for a marine to have long hair. It was the Captain, of course.

"I have been waiting impatiently to see you," Lynx began. "I would have you order me released from here.

This cold metal can is another form of quiet torture for me."

"I can well imagine, if you are an Inquisitor." The Captain stated, matter of factly. "I am your first visitor

because I ordered all personnel to stay away. I could not have an Inquisitor let slip some terrible secret in front of

an innocent, while hallucinating from rehabilitation drugs. I will not have needless executions."

"I see you have heard some things about the role of the Inquisitor." Lynx managed to say without bitterness.

"But, if you have heard even half-truths about my people, I have heard nothing of yours. Can the Captain Leader of

so many spare some time? Time to tell an unknown female of this place, and who you are?"

"I came here because I can spare a little time." The Captain said, the faintest hint of a smile beginning around

the edges of his eyes. "I also believe you are an Inquisitor. I can think of no one who would wish to claim that

title, knowing that servants of the Emperor would certainly check on the truth of the claim. I have come to answer

your questions, and put your mind at ease. We should have had confirmation by now, so it cannot be much longer."

"If you really believe me, then let me up from here." Lynx said, raising here voice. "There is a terribly

important task that I must take up again, every minute lost could mean uncounted lives."

"I am sure." The Captain replied, in an infuriatingly calm manner, "Think a moment, Inquisitor. Were you still

in that dungeon, or dead, what would become of your task? Think Madam Excellency, is the urgency from the

task, or from your desire to meet that task?"

A short silence followed, as Lynx's eyes burned fiercely into the eyes of the strange man before her.

"I would be well pleased, if you would call me Lynx." Lynx said lightly. "I think titles are wasted in this place."

After another moment, she asked, "How shall I call you, if not Captain?"

"To some, I am known as William, if that will also well please you." The Captain replied, also lightly.

There was another moment of silence, as each studied the other. There was more than words being spoken so

lightly, the meanings had to be considered.

At last, Lynx asked, "I would really like to know more of you and your people, would you tell me of

yourselves? Please?"

"The Brotherhood historian would happily spend hours telling you of our order." The Captain said, seriously,

"I do not have that much time. So, I will tell you a little of us. But first, you must promise to tell me how I came to

find an Inquisitor, instead of a Fleet Commander's son, in a pirate's cesspool."

"If it will well please you, William, then I will tell you the tale of how I came to be at your mercy." Lynx said

in mock seriousness.

"It would well please me. Lynx." William replied, also in mock seriousness. The smile around his eyes was

deeper now.

"I will begin with how our order came to be." William began, "If you understand our beginnings, then you will

understand us.

"After the great civil war that nearly destroyed the Empire, the Emperor realized that whole legions, whole

armies, whole brotherhoods, had been maimed or destroyed. The Emperor authorized new brotherhoods of marines

to be founded. Ours was one such.

"The final great battle, that ended the rebellion, spanned whole star systems. In one such system, an Earth like

planet had been well colonized, and so was well populated. It was also well fought over. So well, that it was laid

waste. The populations nearly extinct. The renegade army was totally destroyed. And for a while, it seemed that

the Imperial armies had been totally destroyed, as well.

"But it was not so. Gradually, a survivor would stumble out of the smoldering ruins here, crawl from among

the mounds of dead on the plain over there, walk down from the cold heights away beyond. Gradually, each of

these found one of the others who had survived. Then small groups formed, and discovered the other small groups.

Until finally, all the survivors had gathered in one place after a year. When they were all together, at last, there

were one hundred survivors.

"This was when they discovered the miracle that had occurred. The survivors were all from different armies,

different brotherhoods, and some survivors were not even marines. They all discovered that they had two things in

common, whatever kind of warrior they had been. First, they had all survived the conflagration. Second, they were

all from the ranks of what was called noncommissioned officers. In the ancient past they had been called

Centurions, the one over the one hundred, rather than sergeant or NCO. So strong an omen could not be denied.

"When relief forces came to rescue the one hundred survivors, they managed to be taken to Earth. They begged

to form a new marine brotherhood. The Emperor's permission was given gladly, and named them the Centurions.

"Our founders were given this segment of the galaxy to patrol, guard, and protect. They recruited, trained, and

built up the brotherhood to ten thousand warrior marines. Those one hundred heroes led the campaign to pacify

this sector, and end the anarchy out here.

"Here the Centurions keep the Empire's laws, and stand in the way of those that would return anarchy to this

Warp Rift #18 Supplement - Tyranid War - part III.pdf

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