Catechism Of Hate (8 page)

Even as Cassius shouted a warning, two of the Space Marines were lifted from the rooftop, speared through their torsos by the elongated claws. Capilla fired at the immense beast as it passed over, the detonations of his bolt-rounds appearing as small sparks against the bulk of the harridan. The creature was followed by a downdraught of air that swept up grit and dust from the streets and buildings, swathing the Ultramarines in a thick cloud. Cassius's autosenses flicked to thermal in time to show the gargoyles dropping once more towards the devastators, hidden by the dust storm.

'Enemy above!' Cassius warned, but the cry was not needed. Therotius already had his squad prepared and the descending column of gargoyles were caught in a crossfire of heavy bolter rounds and exploding frag missiles. The dust cloud churned with whirring bolts and ichor pattered down on Cassius like milky-white rain.

A shockwave rippled through the dust as the Thunderhawk screamed past, its nose spitting las-bolts at the departing harridan, each shot tearing chunks from its ribbed underside. The gunship's main cannon boomed out, hitting the ascending tyranid on its dorsal plates, and then both were lost from view again.

'Casualty reports,' snapped Cassius. A wounded gargoyle flopped and flapped a few metres away. The Chaplain crossed the rooftop and brought his crozius down onto the creature's head, crushing its skull with one blow. 'All squads, report in.'

The devastators had not fared too badly: one Space Marine killed, three more too grievously wounded to continue fighting. Several had suffered minor injuries from bio-plasma and gargoyle claws but nothing that could not be ignored for the time being. The tactical squads stationed across the warehouses had suffered the wrath of the harridan and had lost five Space Marines to its bio-cannons and deadly claws before it had turned its attention towards the battle atop the dormitory building.

Apothecary Valion was already making his way from squad to squad in the southern outskirts, tending as best he could to those who had been injured. Sergeant Augustin was amongst those that had fallen; decapitated by the harridan as it had overflown his position. Cassius reviewed his mental list of the Space Marines under his command to find a suitable replacement.

'Brother Tyrius,' he announced over the vox.

'Yes, Brother-Chaplain?'

'You are now sergeant, Tyrius. We will speak the rites of promotion together when the current attack has been thwarted. Assist in the reorganisation of the tactical squads, brother-sergeant.'

'Thank you, Brother Cassius.'

'Do not thank me, Tyrius. Just do your duty. Service is its own reward.'

'Of course, Brother Chaplain. I shall bear the honour of the Ultramarines without faltering.'

'Be sure that you do, sergeant.'

The wind was blowing away the dust cloud caused by the harridan's passage, revealing the creature turning northwards, pursued by the Thunderhawk. Cassius was aware that he had received several reports from the two Titan princeps whilst he had been watching the harridans and fighting the gargoyles. He reviewed his communications log, listening to the contacts on fast-recall.

The next tyranid wave was still heading towards Cordus Via. The Titans had reaped a heavy toll with their weapons, but the foe were too numerous to destroy utterly. Several broods of tyranid warriors and smaller organisms had made it past the Titans' bombardment and were heading down the highway and river.

The sun was barely above the horizon and the day would be filled with fighting.

IN THE AFTERNOON the clouds had burnt away, leaving Cordus Via baking beneath the hot sun. A haze of smoke drifted down the highway, the faltering winds bringing the smog from crop fields set ablaze by the guns of the Titans. Bounded to the north and south by the rivers, there was little danger of the fires spreading too far; in any case it was no concern of Chaplain Cassius. He was not here to defend the cereal fields, but to ensure the safety of the people sheltering in Plains Fall.

In the settlement, the Ultramarines Rhinos were put to work clearing the tyranid corpses choking the streets. A mass of lesser creatures had tried to overwhelm the defenders with their numbers, and several hundred had survived the gauntlet of multiple rocket launchers, volcano cannons and gatling blasters to descend on Cordus Via throughout the morning, to be met by the unflinching fusillade of the Space Marines. With earthmoving blades, the armoured transports heaped the twisted and burnt bodies of termagants and hormagaunts into grisly barricades between the warehouses.

Cassius stood on the Minoran Gradient looking down at the aftermath of the morning's deadly work. Heat haze shimmered from the rockrete highway and fire flickered amongst the outbuildings as the combat squads of the Ultramarines moved through the settlement with flamers, seeking out surviving foes that had managed to get inside the buildings.

The cataract foamed pale green with alien fluids, the pool beneath the thundering fall of water choked with hundreds of tyranid corpses washed down the river. Sergeant Dacia and his veterans were using fragmentation grenades to dislodge the bodies acting as a dam across the river, blowing holes in the wall of dead piling up where the cataract narrowed to ensure Cordus Via did not flood.

The reports from orbit and the patrols of the Thunderhawks indicated that the tyranids had relented in their assault for the moment, pulling back more than ten kilometres. Cassius knew better than to think of them as mindless drones. The tyranids were driven by a compulsion to devour everything in their path, but they were not all simple beasts; alien intelligence directed their actions individually and as a swarm. Their hive ship destroyed, the tyranids that had landed were not an unending horde descending from orbit, and their strategy was still evolving. The Chaplain had fought this menace on more than a score of worlds, and they had never acted exactly the same, though there were predictable patterns, as with any foe.

Having tested the defenders at Cordus Via, and found them unbreaking, the mind guiding the tyranid assault was now seeking a means to circumnavigate the waystation. The Thunderhawks had reported flocks of gargoyles seeking passage to the north and south, but here the terrain was in the favour of the defenders, as Cassius and Arka had known it would be. The rivers were impassable further west of Cordus Via, except perhaps by the harridans and gargoyles and a few of the largest constructs.

If the mass of the tyranid swarm wanted to reach Plains Fall, it would either have to travel several hundred kilometres in a wide arc around the Ultramarines, or break through. There was little Cassius could do about the former strategy, and was determined that the latter would fail.

The Chaplain received a communication from General Arka as he returned to the settlement along the highway access road. The Imperial Guard commander did not have good news.

'The orbital surveys from your strike cruiser show three distinct lines of advance by the enemy,' Arka told Cassius. The general's tone was quiet and determined, though Cassius's keen ears also detected an undercurrent of tension; a strain in Arka's voice that a normal man might not hear. 'To your north, the enemy have made progress along the Altaen Gradient and Messian Highway. I have reinforced the Astcarian infantry stationed at Nexus Via with several squadrons of Leman Russ tanks and Basilisk artillery guns, but they are being hard-pressed to contain the attack and I would not expect them to hold out more than a day.

'To the south, I have established a fortified line across the Captian Highway at Matis Via, in anticipation of the tyranids finding a way across the river at the Serenin rapids. It's fast-moving but narrow, and I would not put it past these creatures to make a bridge of their bodies if needed.'

'In short, general, you cannot guarantee the security of either our northern or southern flanks,' said Cassius. It was a statement of fact, not an accusation, and Arka was experienced enough to take it as such.

'That is correct, revered Chaplain,' the general said with a heavy sigh. 'There is little point in reinforcing further at Matis Via or Nexus Via; I would just be lightening the defence on the city to send more men to their deaths.'

'I concur with your decision, general,' said Cassius.

He had memorised the topography between the highlands and Plains Fall and could understand the general's quandary. Once the tyranids had passed the outer line of defence, the highways arrowing directly towards the city would bring them together again in one mass, capable of overwhelming whatever fortifications were put in place. Matis Via and Nexus Via did not benefit from the terrain that offered Cordus Via protection from encirclement. Any man staying there against the full brunt of the tyranid assault would be on a one-way mission. Though sometimes such sacrifices were necessary, the chances of inflicting significant casualties, or creating a delay in the tyranid advance, were minimal.

'There is no need to endanger your troops further, general,' the Chaplain continued. 'It is clear to me that our flanks will be compromised at some point in the next twelve to fifteen hours, regardless of the efforts of your men and women. Withdraw your forward forces to the main line at Plains Fall and ensure the defence of the city is at its strongest possible.'

'I had considered the same, Chaplain, but I would not wish to leave you without any support. I am able to redirect some of those forces to Cordus Via.'

'That will not be necessary, general.' Cassius had reached ground level and turned towards his chapelry in the depot. Several tactical squads were reinforcing the buildings as much as they could with crates and containers from the warehouses, blocking up windows and doorways with heavy furniture taken from the administration buildings and dormitories. The depot, with its open ground and clear fields of fire, was to be the inner keep of Cordus Via's defences, and if necessary the Ultramarines would make their last stand there.

'In that case, might I suggest a withdrawal of your forces to the position I have created at Attan Terminus, about two hundred kilometres east along the Minoran Gradient? You'll be under the protection of our big guns at the city wall, plus I can move more of the Legio Fortitudis to support your defence.'

'That will also be unnecessary, general. The Ultramarines will halt the advance at Cordus Via.'

Cassius passed through the gate of the depot and glanced up at the devastators atop the silos to his left. He had noted the highly effective fire rained down by the squad during the last attack and resolved to mention the deed in his evening rites later.

'Chaplain Cassius, as much as I respect your skill and experience, I think it would be unwise for your force to remain in its current position. Your position will be defensively untenable within eighteen hours at the most. There is no shame in moving to a more secure position, and to stay at Cordus Via would be suicide.'

'Do not trouble yourself with the fate of my warriors, general, that is my concern alone,' snapped Cassius. 'I am not in the habit of throwing away the lives of Ultramarines, no matter what you might think of my stubbornness. When I arrived, you correctly identified Cordus Via as the lynchpin in your defensive strategy, and so it remains. We will not lightly surrender the advantages we have here.'

'Apologies, Chaplain, I did not mean any offence.'

'I am no more concerned with taking offence than I am with making a precipitous withdrawal, general. The Ultramarines have arrived at Styxia to ensure its protection, and that is what we will do, in the manner I best see fit. Unless you have anything else to tell me, I would prefer not to engage in further debate on the subject.'

'Of course, you are in command of your forces, not I,' said Arka. 'I will keep you informed as the situation develops. Arka out.'

The comm cut abruptly, static hissing in Cassius's ear for a moment before the connection was severed completely. The Chaplain grunted in irritation; he did not have the time or the inclination to deal with Arka's sensibilities. He was one of the best Imperial Guard commanders Cassius had known, but even bearing that in mind, he was still only human.

THE TYRANIDS CAME again in strength after nightfall, and as in the previous night the fire of rockets and blaze of lasers split the dark skies. Unlike the first assault, the wave of tyranids did not come as one in a large horde, but instead advanced along the line of the rivers and highway in smaller broods, perhaps seeking to avoid detection. Such a ruse was pointless; the sensoria of the Titans could pick up the encroaching aliens several kilometres distant, and each brood was destroyed in turn as it came into range of the Warlords' weapons.

Cassius was moving from squad to squad around the perimeter, ensuring not only that every warrior was alert, but also repeating his mantra that Cordus Via would not fall. As yet, the Ultramarines had not fired a shot in the latest battle, but there was no excuse for laxity; the vigil of the Titans was not perfect.

On the roof of a warehouse overlooking the cataract, the Chaplain met with Sergeant Dacia. His veterans waited in darkness, their eye lenses glowing in the gloom as they peered out across the starlit spume of the waterfall.

'All is in order, sergeant?' said Cassius, stopping beside Dacia as he stood at the ledge bordering the flat roof.

'So far, Brother-Chaplain,' replied Dacia. 'Sergeant Octanus and his squad are mounting a patrol five hundred metres upriver, in case any lictors have passed the Titans.'

'And the spirits of your men, they are strong?'

Dacia looked at his squad, arranged like immobile statues gazing westwards along the roof's edge, bolters, plasma guns and heavy bolter held at the ready.

'We are patient, brother,' said the sergeant. 'The enemy will come again, and we will be ready for them. There is no need to be hasty in our reprisal.'

Cassius sensed a slight rebuke in the sergeant's tone, his words hiding some other meaning.

'You believe that we should have withdrawn from Cordus Via, brother-sergeant?' Cassius asked.