03 - Savage Scars (20 page)

As Sarik rose and looked down at the slope, he knew it was most unlikely that
any more enemies would come that way. The entire slope had been scoured clean of
everything but scorched black bedrock. Whatever device-of-last-resort the battle
suit pilot had activated, it had afforded his companions the time they needed to
break away from the Space Marines. With the smoke of the air strike blown clear
by the explosion, the remaining battle suits were visible, half a kilometre away
as they retreated back towards the river and the tau army that was even now
mustering on the opposite shore. As he watched, the heavy battle suits reached
another rise, where more of their kind had assumed a firing line with a
commanding view of the surrounding landscape.

As Sarik surveyed his battle-scarred force, it occurred to him that the
Damocles Gulf Crusade might have far more vicious a struggle ahead of it than
even its most bullish of leaders had anticipated.

“Qaja!” Sarik called. “Gather the squads. We’re far from done here yet…”

Twenty kilometres to the north-west of Hill 3003, Lucian Gerrit was scanning
his data-slate and considering his next move. As the crusade ground onwards
towards Gel’bryn, the force mustering on the other side of River 992 launched a
series of daring hit and run attacks. So accomplished were the tau mechanised
forces at this style of warfare that the more ponderous units of the Imperial
Guard were barely able to react. As the battles progressed, cadres of tau
anti-grav tanks swept in towards the crusade’s flank, disgorging up to a hundred
warriors who unleashed a devastating volley of short-ranged fire before being
carried away again by their transports. General Gauge fed more and more forces
towards the river in an effort to overwhelm the tau defenders. Even as he did so
ever-greater numbers of tau converged on Gel’bryn from the west, reinforcements
sent from the other cities to stall the invasion.

The main advance split into three spearheads. The engines of the
Deathbringers Legion gathered together into a formidable battle group that
sought to push its way into the city’s outer limits by brute strength alone. The
Titans’ initial assaults saw them destroy dozens of enemy armoured vehicles and
hundreds of infantry. The fast-moving and agile Warhound Scout Titans made rapid
gains in the first few hours of their advance. It was only several hours later,
when the Warhounds had pressed so far forwards they had outrun the anti-air
cover provided by the Hydra flak-tank companies of the Imperial Guard, that they
were engaged by heavy tau flyers. To the great surprise of the advisors of the
Departmento Tacticae, these flyers proved to be the very same machines the tau
utilised as gunships in space, revealing the hitherto unknown capability of
operating in both deep space and planetary atmosphere.

The Space Marines had largely amalgamated into a single force, though Lucian
noted with concern that his friend Sarik had encountered heavily armed and
armoured battle suit infantry at Hill 3003 and his force was still engaged in
that area. The remainder of the Space Marines, consisting of the Iron Hands,
Scythes of the Emperor and Ultramarines, along with individual squads from a
handful of other Chapters, had formed a single, large contingent under the
direct control of Captain Rumann of the Iron Hands. That force had pressed
towards the river, but had encountered large numbers of the jump-capable battle
suit infantry. The Departmento Tacticae reported that the tau term for these
particular battle suits, which the crusade had encountered a single example of,
was
“hereks’vre”
, which in their tongue meant the “mantle of the hero”.
Already, the Tacticae had bastardised that term to codify the battle suits as
“XV” class rigs, with various sub-classes already identified.

Even Lucian was surprised that the Space Marines were having such a hard time
of it, for the XV-class battle suits appeared their equal in almost every
respect. They were heavily armed, each carrying anything up to three weapons
systems, some of which were capable of scything down a Space Marine in a single
shot. Their battle suits provided at least as much protection as the Space
Marines’ power armour, and appeared to incorporate a number of additional
systems such as advanced sensor and communication arrays. The XV-class battle
suits were highly manoeuvrable too, for every one of them was equipped with a
short-burn jump pack that made them as agile as an Assault Marine.

The numerous skirmishes the Space Marines had fought against the various
types of battle suit infantry all pointed to a single weakness, details of which
the Tacticae had disseminated to all commands. The tau were proving lacking in
the field of all-in, hand-to-hand fighting. Many theories as to why this might
be had been posited, from a biological deficiency that meant the tau could not
focus on close-up and fast-moving objects as quickly as a human, to a
fundamental moral weakness born of their alien philosophies. Lucian had his own
ideas, which he knew would not find many sympathetic ears amongst the Tacticae
and might even bring about the wrath of Inquisitor Grand were he to voice them
too openly. Lucian was beginning to suspect that the tau regarded close combat
as a brutal and dishonourable slaughter. They excelled in manoeuvre warfare,
using speed and agility to dictate the terms of battle. When it was necessary to
commit to a close-quarters assault, Lucian guessed the tau utilised the savage
aliens his force had encountered the previous night. He wondered if they were
the only alien allies the tau used, recalling how ready they appeared to be to
subvert the human worlds on the other side of the Damocles Gulf.

Lucian’s own battle group had performed well, pressing towards the outlying
suburbs of the city on the eastern side of River 992. The Rakarshans had met and
defeated more groups of the savage aliens, and for a while the two groups had
fought on more or less equal terms. Both were adept at taking full advantage of
cover, and a running battle had developed amongst the outlying settlements. The
aliens had launched repeated ambushes, leaping from the tops of low buildings to
engage the Rakarshans in brutal close combat. Having witnessed the aliens’
despicable trait of devouring the corpses of the fallen, the Rakarshans’ morale
had initially suffered, for the superstitious riflemen believed their foe to be
the mythical daemons of their world’s dark legends. But Lucian had led them
throughout the night, spearheading assault after assault and demonstrating that
whatever else the aliens were, they were made of flesh and blood and could
therefore bleed and die. The Rakarshans had learned that lesson well, and by
morning the outlying suburbs were in their hands.

In the wake of Battlegroup Arcadius’ assault came a huge force of Imperial
Guard armoured and infantry units. As these gathered, the tau increased their
hit and run attacks, and a front line had stabilised across the northern shore
of the river where it looped around the flank of the city. The Imperial Guard
had been forced to dig in, and it was only the aggressive and determined
patrolling of the Space Marines into the no-man’s-land between the two foes that
kept the alien forces largely at bay.

Reaching the last of the latest batch of Tacticae updates, Lucian suppressed
a curse. Concerned that the ground forces had reached an apparent impasse,
Cardinal Gurney was shuttling down to the surface to imbue the warriors with his
own particular brand of motivation. The cardinal’s lander was due at the front
within the hour. Leaving the battle group in Major Subad’s command, Lucian left
his warriors to head off whatever damage Gurney was no doubt intent upon
inflicting on his own agenda, and that of his faction.

Lucian took his place in the line of regimental commanders as the cardinal’s
lander swooped in on screaming landing jets and settled on the dry ground,
throwing up a plume of dust as its landing struts flexed and touched down.
Behind the commanders were gathered several thousand Imperial Guardsmen and
hundreds of tanks, all lined up in parade ground formation to receive this most
august of visitors. The vessel was one of the ubiquitous “Aquila” landers, the
name taken from the highly stylised swept wing configuration that gave it the
appearance of an eagle. Lucian could not help but give a snort of derision, for
the vessel was far from standard in appearance. It was painted gold, as if it
had been chased in priceless leaf, and every flat surface was covered in line
after line of spidery devotional script. The coffers of the Ecclesiarchy were
deep indeed.

Ground crews rushed forwards to service the lander, and Lucian and his
companions waited for the vessel’s passenger pod to lower and its hatch to open.
Lucian’s eyes narrowed as the minutes dragged on, and he caught the furtive
glances of those on either side. The minutes passed slowly, and Lucian’s
annoyance rose. What by the warp was Gurney playing at; did he really think the
assembled warriors had nothing better to do than wait on his convenience?

Then the air was filled by the sound of chanting blaring out of a vox-horn
mounted under the shuttle’s blunt nose. The sound was amplified so loud that the
horn was distorting, resulting in little more than a discordant racket and
certainly not the heavenly chorus Gurney no doubt imagined it to be.

Then the passenger pod at the shuttle’s rear engaged, accompanied by the
sound of whining servos. The pod thudded to the ground, and a moment later the
hatch lowered.

First to step out of the hatch was a robed and stooped attendant, an ornate
censer held before him. A bluish cloud of sweet-smelling incense billowed from
the orb, and the bearer voiced a loud imprecation, the gist of which was that
the cardinal would not have to breathe the same air as the alien tau.

As the censer bearer marched forwards, the cloying cloud blossoming in his
wake, three more attendants made their way down the hatch. Each was carrying a
large book, the pages held open so that all about might gaze upon the wisdom of
the saints and martyrs that had composed them.

Finally, Cardinal Esau Gurney appeared at the hatch and made his way down the
walkway. The cardinal was regaled in the outrageous finery of his office, his
robes the colour of ancient parchment lined with impossibly intricate,
hand-stitched tracery. At his belt and around his neck Gurney wore dozens of
holy relics, ranging from the smallest finger bones of saints to shining gold
rings and other revered icons. He wore a cloak of deepest crimson silk, which
trailed five metres and more behind him as he descended the ramp, and upon his
head he wore a mitre bearing the sunburst skull of the Ecclesiarchy.

Gurney paused before stepping forth onto the dusty ground, and spat upon the
earth. It was a clear message to all who saw it that the cardinal considered the
entire planet cursed by the presence of the xenos tau. Then, he stepped from the
walkway and made his way with his procession towards the gathered warriors.

Gurney halted in front of the gathered warriors, and stood there arrayed in
his Ecclesiarchal finery, his dark gaze taking in the assembled ranks. Here was
a side of the cardinal’s personality that Lucian had not yet witnessed. He knew
that Gurney was a firebrand, and it was by his sermons that much of the military
forces of the crusade had been gathered in the first place. Many months
previously, Gurney had preached first on the world of Brimlock and then across
an entire sector, bullying, inspiring and cajoling the Imperium’s leaders to
contribute forces to the endeavour that became the Damocles Gulf Crusade. Many
of those gathered here today would have heard those fiery sermons, and no doubt
hold the cardinal in high esteem, regardless of what Lucian thought of the man.

“Warriors of the Imperium!” Gurney shouted, his voice so loud that even those
warriors in the rear ranks would have no trouble hearing him. “I salute you!
Much blood has been spilled these last days, and many fell crimes committed by
the foul xenos, but you are sons and daughters of the Emperor, and no vile xenos
can possibly stand before you!”

The assembled Imperial Guardsmen were visibly moved by Gurney’s opening
words. Previously weary eyes came alight with faith, and stooped shoulders
straightened as pride returned to warriors who had known little more than
frustration at the tau’s constant hit and run attacks and devastating ambushes.

“Today, you are blooded and weary, for the xenos foe is possessed of many
forbidden technologies,” the cardinal continued. “It uses tricks and treachery,
and is devoid of honour and faith!”

The cardinal’s eyes burned with the light of righteous zeal as he pressed on.
“But you are men of blood and faith! You bear the sanctified weapons of the
Emperor, and all you need to conquer our foes is courage and cold steel, duty
and honour!”

“Duty and honour!” the assembled Guardsmen repeated. “Duty and honour!”

“Death or glory!” The cardinal bellowed.

“Death or glory!” the warriors repeated. “Death or glory!”

Lucian stalked away from the impromptu rally, his mood darkening. He was
forced to concede that Cardinal Gurney’s sermon, which continued behind him, was
certainly having a positive effect on the crusade’s morale. He had discovered
that Gurney would be touring the entire front, with the exception of the Space
Marine positions, and repeating his words until every Imperial Guardsman in the
crusade had heard them.

Lucian had no doubt that Gurney’s presence on the surface would serve to
rally the army and get the warriors inspired again. But Lucian’s concerns were
of a far more strategic nature. What happened afterwards, when Gurney returned
to the crusade council with a string of victorious battles under his belt? That
was what Lucian had sought to do, and it appeared to him now that Gurney was
seeking to go one up on him, not by leading a force to victory, but by inspiring
the entire army to slaughter the tau wholesale.