Fighting With Faith- Thirty-Eigth Entry

The twenty-two minutes of hell. The twenty-two minutes of helplessness, holed up inside a transport, while shitloads of bombs, spore mines and enemy fire rained down upon them. The twenty-two minutes of hearing exploding transports and screaming comrades, being torn apart and blasted to a million pieces, never to be put together again.

Benlian looked up. In the gloom, he could vaguely make out his men. They were tucked into their seats, their heads bobbing around as their transport made its arduous journey to their destination. Surprisingly, they didn’t look worried. Directly opposite him, Benlian could see Stratile doing a guard check on his lasgun. It was probably what he did when he was nervous or to while away the time. Benlian turned his head right. Beside him, sat the still and silent form of Shralk. His eyes were open and blank, staring into space.

Benlian leaned over. “How’s it going?”

“Huh?” Shralk snapped out of his trance. “Oh, nothing, just waiting till we reach.” Shralk said, casting his gaze onto Benlian.

Benlian waited for ten seconds, looking sympathetically at Shralk. No response.

“Was a terrible sight wasn’t it?” Benlian said.

Shralk sighed. “Yes, never knew spore mines could damage a human so badly.” He took off his Imperial pendant, which hung around his neck, and started to finger it, turning it around and around in his palms.

“Well, more’s to come. And we’re going to need you more then ever. Have you assigned your assistant?” Benlian said.

Shralk pointed across the hold, to a soldier he only recognised by face. He too seemed sad and sullen, constantly locking and unlocking his lasgun’s firing mechanism. He had his eyes closed.

“Tielun. It’s Benlian.” Shralk shouted over the roaring engines across the hold.

Tielun did not respond at first, but immediately snapped to attention after five seconds. “Yes, Shralk? Oh hi Captain Benlian.” He said nervously.

Benlian nodded and whispered to Shralk, “Make sure he’s always ready. Like you.”

Shralk gave Benlian a wink and answered, “Hell, he’s more then that!”

With that, Benlian turned and leaned back onto his seat. Somehow he didn’t feel nervous too, Benlian remarked to himself. Somehow, their transport still-

The transport suddenly rocked wildly from side to side, however this time it seemed as though the explosion was right outside the vehicle. Benlian felt his insides turned upside down as the transport he was in flipped over and landed upside down. Tortured metal screeched and explosions shock the transport.

Benlian shook is his head, clearing the stars that seemed to be swirling around him. He wriggled his toes to make sure it was still there. He could taste and smell blood. “Head count!” he calmly ordered as he unbuckled his belt and tried to work his way around the flipped over transport. Several seats were torn off its hinges, its passengers lying sprawled on the floor. Smoke was drifting from several parts of the hold, along with sparks due to overloaded circuits. Several moans and groans could be heard.

Benlian made his way to the driver’s seat. Its head was smashed by the caved in hull of the transport, its body crushed between its seat and the control port. It was beyond repair. Benlian looked down onto the control port, surprised it was still working. He leaned closer to it and realised, from the tactical map, his transport was no more then fifty metres from the main wall and Titan Azrael had already done its job by clearing a hole in it.

Green blips denoting friendly transports were already working its way through the breach, about ten already at the forefront of the attack were already disembarking its soldiers. Benlian was shock to see the many other red blips, denoting destroyed, crippled or last seen transports. Within a radius of two hundred metres, Benlian could make out eleven red blips. A mighty green star on the map clearly denoted Titan Azrael. It was walking nearer to the wall, about sixty meters behind Benlian’s transport, still firing its Volcano cannon and other powerful guns onto the various gun emplacements and artillery batteries located on the wall.

Now visually aware and alert of his surroundings and the advancement effort, Benlian made his way to the side hatch, which was already opened with several limping and dazed forms clambering out of it. Benlian could make out an injured Lent, still clutching fervently onto his lasgun, amongst the crowd. Shralk and Tielun were still in the transport, tending to three other injured soldiers who couldn’t seem to be able to walk.

“Shralk! We’re moving on. Get Tielun to stay with them. I’ll activate a res-point!” Benlian called out, extricating one out of his two res-point devices from his waist pocket and activating it. He threw it into Tielun’s outstretch bloody hands and signaled for Shralk to follow him.

Res-points were short termed for Rescue-points. Such devices work like beacons; when activated, it alerts central command of dire situations out at the front and prompts it to send reinforcements, medical supplies or heavy support. Being precious and valuable, only two are issued to every company captain, only to be used in the worst of cases.

Benlian leapt out of the wrecked vehicle and looked around. His soldiers were already taking defensive positions around the vehicle: behind boulders, other wrecked vehicles and ruins. Smoke, sand and soot stung Benlian’s eyes. A completely burned out Chimera transport wreck could be seen no more then ten metres away. Charred, broken and mangled bodies within it were all evident to the harsh bombardment their insertion point had received.

Chimeras still roared by them, throwing up powerful gusts of sand. Through the haze, Benlian could make out the hulking giant of Titan Azrael, unleashing power and energy beyond his understanding and stomping forward. A powerful crack of thunder followed by a sonic boom resounded off the distant walls of the battlefield as the Titan fired its Volcano gun, scoring a huge crater on the walls but not breaking it. Several minor chain explosions could be seen along the walls as the shot seemed to have been tactically planned.

Out here, all Benlian smelled was smoke and all he could see was blazing wrecks of Chimeras and corpses. The usual yellow sky with its twin suns overhead seemed distant, obscured by the heat and haze being generated from the battle below.

Spore mines, bombs and enemy fire still rained down upon them, a particular bomb exploding twenty metres away.

“SHIT! Benlian, we should move out!” Kennil bellowed through the cacophony.

Benlian nodded. Although so near to death, Benlian still felt specially calm and cool. He felt that if he was to die in this moment and place, so be it. The Emperor decides all for the best of all, he thought.

“Bel Company, scatter formation. Make your way through the walls and group up at staging point Aplha. Go!” Benlian ordered.

From here, it was a mad sprint. Explosions ringed off Benlian’s ears while bullets whizzed past him, Chimera transports roared by them, sand and smoke swirling around them. Benlian could already make out silhouettes through the haze, of people disembarking from their transports and making their way to their respective Staging point.

Within ten seconds, Benlian, along with the rest of his company, were in the confines of the warehouse. They were in a vast hanger of some sort, where plane wings and engines hung suspended on chain pulleys. The far walls of the hanger could be seen, with both humanoid and alien figures running along the lifts and gangways. Smoke and haze still drifted into the building, and the deadly battlefield mere meters away seem distant and dull.

Benlian didn’t know whether to feel safe or worried. He looked around, already seeing various companies making their way through the hanger. Several transports were already firing its armaments into swarms of Tyranid broods rushing towards them. Gunfire could be heard at the other end of the hanger, evident of the cultists’ awareness of their presence.

“Bel Company,” Benlian gasped for breath, “Staging point Alpha is beyond the hanger, in the next room. Move out!” Benlian said as he signaled for Kennil to take over Squad Belues.

Kennil gave Benlian a nod and a thumbs up, turning his back and making his way through the hanger.

Benlian caught a shimmer to his left. He whirled around, simultaneously whipping out his lasgun and brining it to bear. All he saw was many tall cylindrical pillars, probably fuel and lubricant storages. Suddenly, an obscene claw ripped out of the nearest cylinder, next to him. Benlian yelped and leapt backwards, firing his lasgun into in. Black ichors ran through the holes through which Benlian’s lasgun shots had made.

Benlian and his squad immediately could hear several more similar sounds, and were horrified to see more claws, talons and blades slicing open the cylinders with ease, revealing horrifying alien heads, sharp serrated teeth, and the terrifying fact that they had just stumbled upon a Tyranid Hormagaunt brood.