Catechism Of Hate (12 page)

'What if the Guard don't come?' Tyrius asked. 'Normal men are weak, cherishing their lives above honour.'

The question had occurred to Cassius, but it was not his concern any longer now that his force was committed to the strike on the norn queen. That Tyrius had asked it suggested the idea that the Ultramarines would be abandoned to the tyranid horde was in the minds of other warriors in the force too.

'Some men are weak, that is true,' said Cassius. 'Yet some men are strong. You and I were once normal boys, with the hearts of men. We were chosen because we were strong, because we had courage and honour. Not all men with courage and honour become Space Marines. Some die with their potential unfulfilled. Others find a way to serve the Emperor by other means, as missionaries or Imperial Guard officers. General Arka is a strong man, and his men are dedicated to him.'

'It is reassuring to know that our attack will have purpose,' said Tyrius. 'To expend our lives in completion of this mission and yet not ensure the protection of this world with our actions would be vanity.'

'We stay until we slay the hive tyrant, that is all we need to do,' Cassius replied. 'Our foes will take time to recover, with their synapse commander destroyed. With the pressure relieved at Plains Fall, Arka will feel confident that the Imperial Guard can launch their counter-offensive. Our focus must be upon the hive tyrant, unfettered by all other considerations.'

'Of course, Brother-Chaplain.' Tyrius's words professed understanding, but his tone betrayed an element of doubt.

'I know that it can be unsettling to rely so heavily upon a fragile and uncertain alliance, sergeant,' Cassius told Tyrius. He opened up a company-wide channel to address the rest of the force. 'Success, and our honour, must be placed in the hands of others at times. So it has been since the time of the Imperium's beginnings. The Ultramarines are a powerful force, but even when mobilised in its entirety, our Chapter numbers but a thousand warriors. A thousand Space Marines can accomplish many things, but they cannot achieve everything.

'There are perhaps one million Space Marines to defend the Imperium, and as old wisdom would have it, that is but one warrior per world that owes fealty to the Emperor. So has it been, from time immemorial to today, that the Space Marines must be the tip of the spear but the Imperial Guard are the weight of the haft behind it. We are the sabre that slashes, they are the hammer that smashes.

'This is as true in Vortengard, where our brothers fight, as on Styxia. The Ultramarines cannot win this war by themselves, but it is our task, our purpose of existence, to make it possible for the Imperial Guard to bring victory. If one does not believe in this idea, one must doubt the Chapter's duty to the Imperium as a whole.'

WITH THESE STERN words ringing in their ears, the Ultramarines pressed on. When daylight came, Cassius mounted the cupola in the roof of the Rhino to examine the surroundings. The spore-fume was thick, blanketing the bare rock and filling the air. The blue of the Rhinos and Razorbacks was hidden beneath a layer of the filth and Cassius was forced to continually wipe the lenses of his helm as the column sped on through the murk.

Despite the spore gloom, it was possible to see the immense chimneys rising up ahead and to either side. Like the volcanoes upon which they were erected, the spore funnels were conical in shape, spewing out a steady stream of blackness as an eruption vomits ash. Passing close to the base of one such structure, which reached up at least two hundred metres above Cassius, the Chaplain saw that it was still under construction.

The chimney was a mass of writhing biomatter: grub-like growths and metre-long worms entangled each other in a mass of slimy strands, while six-legged crabs smaller than a thumbnail knitted together the hardening xeno-silk, followed by more larvae that excreted processed organic matter in dribbling rivulets, encasing the structure with a hardening outer covering.

Absorbed by his study of this activity, Cassius at first did not notice the monstrous apparition looming out of the spore fog in front of him. A warning from Sergeant Menaton drew his attention forwards, where the column was slowing to a halt.

The norn queen squatted amongst the spore chimneys, equally as mountainous in its bulk. The flanks of the monstrous brood-mother were covered with a swarming layer of rippers; hundreds of finger-sized larvae slipping from cord-veined incubator tubes while engorged, full-grown adults dragged themselves into puckered digestive tract openings to be absorbed back into the genetic material from which they had been spawned.

Intestinal tracts like thick cables hung between the norn queen and the surrounding funnels, dripping with alien fluids. Like perverse celebration decorations, amniotic sacs hung from these organic chains, each foetal pendulum swaying with a life of its own. Four stunted limbs tipped with claws hugged the creature's upper body, which was covered in segmented plates that expanded and contracted slowly as other organs half-concealed within contorted and spasmed.

Ovipositor tubes spat out streams of fist-sized, mucus-covered eggs that were manoeuvred into piles around the norn queen's haunches by hundreds of fibrous vestigial tentacles. Here they were tended to by flat-bottomed slug-like nurturers that arranged the eggs into neat rows, their slime trails soaking nutrients into the nascent creatures within the leathery casings.

At the summit of this fleshy hill was a small head, no larger than that of a tyranid warrior, with six plates at its crest and black eyes. Slowly the head turned towards Cassius and his convoy. Glancing to his left and right, the Chaplain saw immature termagants and hormagaunts emerging from ichor-encrusted cocoons, while clusters of the fully grown creatures lurked in shadowed tunnels woven into the fabric of the spore chimneys.

Cassius had never seen the like of this horrific vision. The norn queens usually kept aboard the hive ships, and fed upon a devoured planet through massive capillary towers lowered from orbit. The plight of the hive ship had obviously forced the tyranids on board to eject in their entirety, and the norn queen had somehow survived the descent to Styxia's surface. Adapting to this harsh environment, the brood creator had manufactured new organisms to cope with life on the surface.

'How are we to destroy such an abomination?' asked Sergeant Xathian.

Along with his devastators, the sergeant had disembarked from his Rhino, their heavy weapons trained upon the massive norn queen. Around them several tactical squads had drawn up a defensive perimeter, though as yet the termagants and hormagaunts had not attacked.

'We are equipped with beacons to assist in teleportation operations,' said Cassius. 'Their signal can penetrate the spore-fug and reach the Fidelis. The Fidelis can recalibrate her weapons augurs to the teleport signal and fire through the cloud with accuracy. Sergeant Therotius, begin a survey of the area to calculate the most suitable impact sights for orbital bombardment. I want the queen and as many funnels destroyed as possible.'

'One cyclotronic torpedo would level this whole region, Chaplain,' replied Therotius.

'And render a hundred thousand hectares of farms barren for centuries, sergeant.' Cassius said. 'There is no point in protecting Styxia if we are to destroy its infrastructure. Bombardment cannon only.'

'Affirmative, brother. I will assess the attack zone,' said the sergeant.

A bolter shot rang out to the left as one of Squad Heletis opened fire on the lurking termagants. In response, several of the creatures charged into view, their weapons spitting a hail of gnawing grubs that cracked into the armour of the Space Marines.

'Squad Octanus, provide close support to Sergeant Therotius,' snapped Cassius. More bolt shots sounded as the Ultramarines engaged the emerging tyranids. 'Knives, fists and swords! Conserve ammunition, brothers, there will be deadlier foes to face before we are victorious today.'

For two hours the Ultramarines fought back the increasing numbers of attackers, the buzz of chainswords and wet impacts of fists on flesh becoming a monotonous backdrop to the Space Marines' work. Under the guidance of Therotius, six teleport homing devices were placed, three of them close to the norn queen itself, three more at structurally weak points on the half-finished spore towers around the beast. The norn queen seemed oblivious to their intent, unable to comprehend the importance of the knee-high transmitters with their signal arrays and blinking lights.

Cassius was in contact with the crew of the Fidelis throughout the operation, bringing the strike cruiser into position above the highlands and ensuring the weapons sensors were locked on to the correct signals. When all was prepared, the Ultramarines boarded their transports for the withdrawal.

Before the lead vehicle had travelled more than a few metres, the vox-net was alive with warnings as the vehicles' auspexes detected a massive surge in readings. Concealed by the organic thatch-work nature of the spore chimneys, hundreds of beasts had been able to approach the Space Marines undetected. Cassius put it down to coincidence rather than design that they had chosen this moment to launch their attack, pinning the Ultramarines in place and so preventing Fidelis from opening fire.

Ordering the breakout, Cassius took hold of the Rhino's storm bolter and laid down a curtain of fire to the left, gunning down the first waves of lesser creatures as they boiled up from subterranean tunnels criss-crossing the whole landing site. The auspex in the cabin below him was pinging wildly, registering heat sources and movement all around. Cassius swung the storm bolter in a half circle and cleared the passage entrances on the other side as the driver slammed the Rhino into motion, running over a cluster of hormagaunts that had been preparing to leap onto the front of the vehicle.

The column roared out with the fume of exhausts billowing in their wake and the thunder of bolter fire rebounding from the spore funnels. A red and white mass of creatures converged on the Ultramarines from every direction, and the crack of spike rifles and fleshborers engulfed the convoy. Heavier venom cannons smashed the armour of the vehicles, splashing highly corrosive acid into the interiors to melt through gear chains and control cables.

Half a kilometre from the norn queen, Cassius was forced to call a halt when Squad Capilla's Rhino suffered a catastrophic malfunction. Flames and smoke burst from its transmission system, sending the transport crashing into one of the boulders scattered along the side of the volcano. At a word from the Chaplain, the rest of the column came to a stop, forming a perimeter of fire to allow the stricken Space Marines to disperse into the other vehicles.

The delay almost proved costly, as more and more of the larger tyranid constructs closed with the Ultramarines. A hulking carnifex, as large as the transports, stormed from one of the cavernous openings in the chimney foundations, bellowing bioplasma at Squad Heletis's Razorback. The twin lascannons in the vehicle's turret spat back two stabs of white light as the carnifex lumbered into a charge, its claws ready to rip apart the transport. Striking the beast in the abdomen, the lascannon beams seared through its armoured plates and reinforced endoskeleton, severing a leg. More fire converged from the other vehicles, turning the fallen carnifex into an exploding mass of flesh and ichor.

Down the flank of the volcano sped the column, almost reckless in their haste to get to the minimum safe distance. They were still two kilometres short, a flock of gargoyles not far behind, when Cassius signalled Fidelis.

'This is Chaplain Cassius. Authorisation is given to initiate planetary bombardment. Target coordinates as established. One round at each signal.'

It took a few seconds for the command to reach orbit and the reply to return. Cassius could barely make out the words over the roaring of the Rhino's engine and the thundering of the storm bolter in his grip.

'Please confirm, Chaplain. Our sensors indicate that you may still be in the blast zone.'

'Open fire, in the name of the Emperor!' bellowed Cassius. 'Annihilate everything on that mountain!'

More than a minute passed before Cassius saw the first streak of white against the black fume of the spore cloud. Descending from orbit, the bombardment shell was little more than a directed meteorite weighing eight tonnes. Its ablative entry shielding burned off, flaring like a second sun for several seconds, and then it disappeared. Cassius picked up the dark blur twenty seconds later a few kilometres above the spore funnels.

The shell needed no high explosive; the kinetic energy of its descent from orbit was enough to generate a blast that ripped open the flank of the spore chimney it struck. Punching through the tyranid edifice into the rock below, the bombardment shell created a shockwave that rippled along the mountainside, toppling the spore funnel.

Twenty seconds later the second shell hit, on the other side of the norn queen. And then the third struck, and the fourth. Pounded from above, the volcano was breached, its outer layer of rock smashed apart, newly created fumaroles belching forth hot lava.

The fifth shot ripped through the norn queen, shredding its bulbous form from within, sending splinters of carapace hundreds of metres into the air. Around their brood-mother, the tyranids died in their hundreds as the sixth and final shot slammed into the ground, igniting gases gouting from the dead breeder-construct so that flames roared into the heaving sky, mingling with the ash and magma of the volcano's eruption.

Borne upon the detonation's shockwave, an avalanche of smoke, spores and flame spilled down the volcano, rushing after the Ultramarines in a towering wall. Cassius gave the order to close hatches scant seconds before the wave hit. It engulfed the convoy in a swirling mass of debris and fire, blotting out sensor signals, clogging engines and swamping tracks. Shuddering to a halt, the column was half-buried with dust and grit in seconds.

As the gloom dispersed, Cassius opened up the cupola hatch again and surveyed the damage. Several transports had been upended by impacts, tossed like stones across the mountainside. He called for a casualty report and was saddened and angered to hear that three battle-brothers had died; the main door on their Razorback had jammed, allowing them to be engulfed by red-hot ash that baked them to death despite their armour's environment systems. Of Squad Heletis, only two Space Marines had survived; manning their cupola weapons they had been able to leap clear as their Rhino had been swept into a gorge by the volcanic tide.