Path of the Warrior (34 page)

Morlaniath felt the tremor of their impact, not through his flesh but in his mind, the infinity circuit reverberating with a spasm of pain. More salvoes from the cruiser’s gun decks slammed into Alaitoc, crashing against the energy shields that protected the domes. This time the ground did shudder, so close were the impacts of plasma and rocket. The barrage continued for some time and then fell silent, the flare of laser and shell replaced by the small pinpricks of assault craft engines.

The humans were sending their boarding parties.

“The Tower of Ascending Dreams is under attack.” Arhathain’s voice cut through Morlaniath’s trance. “Stand ready to respond on my command.”

The exarch signalled to his warriors to mount up in the Wave Serpent. As they ran up the ramp at its back, he saw the Warp Spiders wink out of existence, while the Shining Spears gunned the engines of their jetbikes and sped out of sight between the wraithbone trees.

Morlaniath crouched in the back of the Wave Serpent as the ramp closed, sealing them inside. Above him motors whined quietly as the turret lowered into the hull, the pilot readying the transport for departure.

The Striking Scorpions waited for the autarch­s orders, every heartbeat slowly ticking past. Arhulesh fidgeted with anticipation, flexing his fingers around the grip of his chainsword. Elissanadrin crouched next to Morlaniath, forearms gently resting on her knees, head bowed in concentration. Bechareth remained as silent as ever, his gaze fixed on Morlaniath. The exarch stared back, wondering what passed through the former incubi’s mind. Did he confuse Morlaniath with Korlandril, thinking perhaps that they shared some kind of bond? Did he ponder his fate now that Kenainath’s protection was no more? Morlaniath had questions of his own; questions that only time would answer. Was Bechareth truly reformed? He had fought as Hidden Shadow many times, but would he be willing to lay down his life for Alaitoc, an adopted home? Could he be trusted to fight if it seemed that Alaitoc was waning?

“The humans have broken into the lower levels of the Tower of Ascending Dreams,” announced Arhathain. “Move forward to contain them. Do not over-commit. More human ships are closing along the starward rim. Be ready to fall back and redeploy. Guardian forces moving in support.”

The thrum of the Wave Serpent’s engines filled the cabin as it lifted higher and turned on the spot. There was little sensation of movement save the slight pull of inertia as the transport accelerated, but on internal screens Morlaniath saw the crystal seers skimming past as the pilot steered the Wave Serpent towards the main artery to the docking area being attacked.

They passed through the low portal at high speed, veering onto a thoroughfare lit by bright bands of green and blue. The lights flashed past the screen, increasing to a rapid strobe as the Wave Serpent picked up speed. Other vehicles joined them at intersections; several Wave Serpents fell in behind them while two Falcon anti-grav tanks sped past, their helmeted pilots and gunners glimpsed briefly through armoured canopies.

Suddenly deceleration pushed at Morlaniath as the Wave Serpent cornered sharply. He swayed with the momentum, readjusting himself on his haunches to keep his balance. The Wave Serpent picked up speed again as it accelerated along the ramp leading towards the dock towers.

They burst onto the broad plaza of the rim, the whining of the engines lost in the cavernous space of the empty docks: all of the ships had let slip from their moorings as soon as the Imperial fleet had broken out of warp space.

The Wave Serpent slewed to a halt and the ramp lowered even as the transport settled down into a low hover. Morlaniath raced down the ramp, the squad close behind. The outer part of the dock was deserted. Only the occasional flash of a laser or torpedo trail beyond the shimmering force curtain betrayed the battle that was raging.

A spiralling rampway led up to the lower levels of the Tower of Ascending Dreams. The building formed a tapering curve into a soaring pinnacle that jutted out from the craftworld’s rim. Slender windows pierced the walls, sometimes lit by a flash of energy from within.

Their armoured boots thudding softly on the rampway, the Striking Scorpions entered the lower level—several storeys of arched rings surrounding the central core of the tower—with the sounds of other squads just behind. Morlaniath looked over his shoulder to see Erethaillin’s Maidens of Fate catching up quickly, the lightly-armoured, swifter Howling Banshees passing the Striking Scorpions as they turned a loop of the ramp onto the second level.

Morlaniath could hear gunfire; the chatter of barbaric solid-shot weapons, the zip of laser fire and the air-splitting shriek of shuriken ammunition. He pulled free the
Teeth of Dissonance
from where the blade had been hanging across his back, wielding it in both hands as the spiralling passageway took them up another level.

The Hidden Death ran onto a wide concourse that curved gently along the rim of the craftworld. A sea of stars spread out beyond the blue-tinged force wall, burning debris floating across the starscape.

The whirr of wings caught the exarch’s attention and he glanced up to see a squad of Swooping Hawks flying above him, the wings of their flight-packs a multi-coloured blur in the dim yellow glow of the chamber. He saw Phoenix Lord Baharroth gliding amongst his followers, his las-blaster sending shafts of brilliant energy into the upper levels of the docking tower.

Ahead, through an archway that arced far above him, Morlaniath could see blue-clad eldar with yellow helmets gathered in a defensive semi-circle: Guardian squads protecting the landing beyond the arch, shuriken catapults spitting salvoes into a foe that the exarch could not yet see. Amongst the Guardians glided heavy weapons platforms, their crews close at hand with psychically-linked controls.

Brightlances spat blasts of laser, starcannons unleashed torrents of blue plasma and missile launchers filled the air with screaming trails. The Swooping Hawks dove through the arch, their weapons criss-crossing the chamber beyond with white ripples of fire.

Morlaniath reached the archway and looked up at Alaitoc’s attackers.

They had taken cover on a sweeping gallery above and opposite the archway, hiding behind rows of slender columns that rose to the ceiling far above. The stunted, thick-limbed enemy were clad in rumpled suits, grey and black camouflage, skull and eagle insignias stitched onto arms and chests, their flat faces hidden behind silver-visored helmets. In fat, gauntleted hands they carried crude laser weapons that fired bolts of red. Pinned back by the eldar counter-attack, the humans clumsily bobbed into view, loosing off scattered shots before hiding again.

The Swooping Hawks swept majestically up, slaloming between the pillars, grenade dispensers on their thighs showering the humans below with blasts of plasma and shrapnel. The Maidens of Fate—Erethaillin’s Howling Banshee squad—were already at the left-hand end of the rampway that led to the human-occupied gallery, the exarch at the forefront of their charge, a gleaming, curved sword in each hand. Forced back by the heavy weapons of the Guardians, the grenades of the Swooping Hawks and the approach of the Howling Banshees, the humans directed no fire towards Morlaniath and his squad as they raced across the tiled floor between the arch and the right-hand access ramp.

Morlaniath could see human officers amongst the throng of their men, swathed in long dress coats with golden epaulettes, wearing silver-peaked caps with winged skull badges. None of the humans noticed the Hidden Death quickly but quietly stalking up the ramp, keeping to the long shadows cast by the pillars above.

Morlaniath broke from the ramp at a full run, the others directly behind him. Their shuriken pistols spat a blurring volley into the nearest humans, shredding grey fatigues, cracking mirrored visors. Their sergeant turned in dismay, a moment before the
Teeth of Dissonance
separated his head from his shoulders in one sweep.

The Hidden Death did not pause to finish off the wounded, following closely as Morlaniath charged into the group of humans huddled behind the next column. The exarch’s mandiblasters exploded across the face of a black-coated officer, the human’s face twisting into an agonised, wordless scream as energy flared across his swarthy skin. Morlaniath swept his biting blade across the officer’s left arm, severing the limb at the shoulder.

A flash and a roar at close range heralded a shotgun blast, a moment before a storm of pellets crashed into Morlaniath’s left side, staggering him for a moment. He turned quickly and saw the panicked human trying to load more shells into the gun’s slider, his movements slow and fumbling in Morlaniath’s eyes. With a laugh, Morlaniath gutted the impudent creature, spilling his intestines over the white-and-gold tiles of the gallery. Around him, the Hidden Death chopped and hacked, coating the floor with blood and limbs.

The Striking Scorpions and Howling Banshees converged from opposite ends of the gallery, cutting down all in their path. The humans got in each other’s way, the few shots they fired woefully inaccurate. Six more of their number fell to the blade
Teeth of Dissonance
and Morlaniath growled in tune to his weapon, relishing every death.

Las-blasts and the thudding of feet heralded the arrival of more humans coming down the broad stairway that swept down to the gallery from the docking spire above. The Swooping Hawks greeted the reinforcements with las-fire, shrouding the steps with a fusillade of deadly light. Guardians poured along the gallery from either end, adding their own fire to the defence.

The snap of the humans’ lasguns was drowned out by the piercing shriek of the Howling Banshees as they charged again, their masks projecting a psychosonic wave before them. Some of the humans fell to their knees, ears and eyes bleeding, others dropped weapons from numbed fingers or simply collapsed with spasmodic fits. Even those that were not incapacitated stood in quivering shock, unable to defend themselves as Erethaillin and her warriors closed for the kill, power swords cutting through flak jackets, flesh and bone without resistance.

Morlaniath was about to lead his squad forward in support of the Howling Banshees when Arhathain’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“Enemy numbers are strengthening. They have breached our defences in several positions and are establishing a landing zone. Stage a withdrawal from the Tower of Ascending Dreams to avoid being isolated. Bring the enemy into the Concourse of the Suffering Heart. Additional forces will join you at the Plaza of Alaithir.”

In response to this new plan, the entirety of the tower plunged into darkness, the dim light of the walls extinguished by Alaitoc. Through the augmented vision of his helmet, Morlaniath watched the Imperial soldiers toppling down the stairway, tripping over each other, flailing in the blackness for balance. The bright flash of the Swooping Hawks’ lasers and the flare of missile detonations highlighted faces contorted in terror at this sudden change of environment.

The eldar withdrew from their foes behind the fire of the Swooping Hawks and Guardian weapons platforms. With their attackers thrown into disarray, the Alaitocii withdrew from the Tower of Ascending Dreams into the concourse outside, squads taking it in turns to stand rearguard while the rest retreated. Outside once more, the Striking Scorpions boarded their Wave Serpent and turned to speed along the rim, heading for the Plaza of Alaithir, a broad junction between the Concourse of the Suffering Heart and the Mourning Way. Behind them, the Imperial troops staggered out into the lighted concourse to be cut down by Falcon tanks and soaring Vyper jetbikes.

At the Plaza of Alaithir, forces were converging from three directions, falling back from all across the starward side of the craftworld. Silhouetted against the orange glow of the dying star, Falcons hovered at each intersection, weapons trained above the incoming squads of Aspect Warriors and Guardians. Wave Serpents converged on the immense fountain at the centre of the plaza, from which reared an enormous statue of the autarch after whom the plaza was named. The marble warrior stood with sword and fusion pistol at the ready, glaring balefully down the Mourning Way towards the Spire of Tranquility.

The Hidden Death disembarked to join the line defending the concourse along which they had just travelled. The Vypers and Falcons slid back into view occasionally, firing their weapons at foes hidden behind the curve of the craftworld’s rim. Eventually the humans came into view again, resolutely advancing in a column hundreds-strong. Gawky walkers strode on double-jointed legs beside the squads of infantry, their multi-barrelled lasers spewing a torrent of fire at the eldar vehicles. Human heavy weapons teams ran forward, dragging wheeled lascannons and bulky autocannons behind them. They set up firing positions alongside the advancing companies, adding the fury of their fire to the walkers’ as cover for the advancing soldiers.

As shells cut dark streaks through the air, a Vyper was clipped by a salvo, losing a control vane. It careened out of control into the jade-coloured interior wall. Another volley ripped into the armour of a Falcon, which listed sideways before grinding into the ground with a crumpling of armoured plates. More shots punched through the wreckage, cracking sensor gems and showering pieces of shattered canopy across the tiled floor. Its anti-grav engines destroyed by a laser blast, another tank flipped awkwardly upwards, pulse laser still firing burning bolts of light. The turret of a third Falcon erupted in flames from a hit and the tank spun crazily about its axis until it crashed into the energy field on the spaceward side of the plaza, ripples of lightning spreading across the force shield.

Faced with the continuing onslaught, the Falcons’ and Vypers’ pilots increased the speed of their retreat, eventually turning completely and boosting away from the Imperium’s soldiers on plumes of light. The throb of their engines vibrated through Morlaniath as they soared overhead into the relative safety of the plaza.

To the advancing humans it must have seemed as if they had their foes at bay, trapped in the open space of the plaza. The grass-covered hills and marble-like roadways provided little cover for the sheltering troops. The eldar waited in silence while the angry orders and triumphant shouts of the Imperial officers echoed along the concourse.