Soul Drinkers, A Space Marine Chapter. Art in its best form. Acknowledgments from http://www.fred-katrin.de/

Fighting with Faith- Fortieth Entry

They weren’t given even a second to realise what was happening. As quickly as las beams began bursting from the barrels of their lasguns, the terrifying Hormagaunts began erupting forth from the moist orifices of which they were hibernating within, awaiting the signal of the Hive Mind to activate them; to kill.

Asat Guardsmen looked on in fear as the lithe forms and scything claws of the Gaunts pounced ever nearer, numbering near a hundred of them and more could still be seen leaping onto the rockrete floor, giving out ear-piercing shrieks of long awaited freedom from their tight gestation wombs.

This has to be a whole damn breeding area. Benlian thought to himself.

The Gaunts now closed fifteen metres onto the arrayed Guardsmen, a hail of death spitting into their snarling faces and carapaces, stitching the hot air between them with super heated and charged las beams. Many were mowed down, powerful las beams and now raking autocannons being deployed, turning them into bloody crumpled pulps of writhing fleshes.

The Guardsmen were in a good position, using wrecks of silos and hulls of vehicles as cover. They were positioned in a thin line, occupying as much space as possible. They had been taught that in order to fight against such aliens, which came on in innumerable numbers, they had to be deployed with the widest fire base as possible, using every nook and cranny as a firing point. Behind them were stalled Chimera transports, offering further fire support from their twin-link bolter sponsons. Several companies that were deployed were already making their way to reinforce Bel Company’s position, respective squads taking strategic places.

Benlian had heard tales of nightmarish aliens of talons and claws, entities that stopped no longer then a heartbeat to notice its victim was dead only when nothing was left to discern it. He had even seen footages during training, victims of such abominations, torn asunder and not even looking like a human. Acid blood, crushing claws, and razor spikes all crossed the hologram in a second, leaving behind a trail of gory death, writhing corpses, and an orgy of destruction.

“Flamers! To the fore!” Benlian bellowed, directing his company’s four flamers to the front, moving out of the way as their bulky chem-suits appeared beside him. For once, he welcomed the stench of Promethium, ignited by flame at the nozzle of the flamer and of which spewed a wall of fire, just that such flames were ten times hotter then fire.

Inexperienced Guardsmen yelped in surprised as a sudden gush of steaming wind blew into their face, the backwash effect of flamers. Benlian himself was forced to shield his eyes as the goggle protected flamers begin doing their job, releasing controlled, powerful jets of ignited Promethium into the aliens, reducing their bodies into black, charred cadavers. Nothing could be perceived beyond the wall of flame, except for the violent death throes of the doomed Gaunts that were set alight. The flaming went on for another minute, and everyone else waited as they relaxed the grip on their triggers. Suddenly, like a Basilisk’s shell falling from the sky, a Hormagaunt, set alight and shrieking at ear bursting decibel, appeared through the impassive wall of flame and landed on the nearest flamer. It began rending its claws all over the unfortunate flamer, tearing apart his chem.-suit and passing its flames onto the fragile body within. Everyone began to back away, all well aware of the inevitable.

The flailing flamer exploded in a ball of super heated gas, a ball of blue flame engulfing him as his muffled screams were drowned in the Hormagaunts own tortured shrieks.

Then, it was silent. The Guardsmen readied their weapons, peering intently beyond the thick haze that had begun to settle. As the haze cleared, Benlian could make out at first blackened carcasses several metres away from him, raising his lasgun further to aim at where the Gaunts had first appeared. Soon, the scene was clear and at least ten dozen charred and mangles corpses were on the ground before them.

A light cheer broke forth from the Guardsmen, lifting their lasguns above their heads in triumph at this minor victory over the overall battle. Benlian nodded approval to the other Company Captains as they departed for their own missions and gestured for Bel Company to regroup at where the Hormagaunts had appeared from.

Benlian signaled for Bel Company to fan out, searching through the seemingly empty silos that minutes ago had proved so much otherwise. Benlian peered into one with gelatinous purple liquid dripping out of a torn hole. It reeked of alien fluids and an alien organism was pulsating at the bottom of it. Benlian stuck his lasgun in and ended its miserable existence, decorating the innards of the cylinder with its ruptured body.

Benlian approached another silo. It was dented near its bottom, as though something was trying in vain to get through the walls. Its walls were bullet ridden, and black ichor pooled out of it, forming a sticky puddle on the ground. Benlian didn’t want to leave it to chances and used his combat knife to carve through the already weakened walls of the silo around the bullet holes and fired several las beams into it. A pathetic gurgle emanated from the hole and a final hiss could be heard as the creature within it expired.

“AARGH! HEL-” a voice rang out loud behind him. Benlian whirled around, only to be confronted by a horrific scene. Marum Gret, a trust and loyal scout of Bel Company, had half of his top body hauled into a silo. His legs were lifted in the air upside down and were kicking violently. Muffled screams of agony and sadistic hisses could be heard from within the silo. Kennil and Brannick immediately reached forward, grasping tightly onto Marcum’s flailing limbs. They grunted heavily as they yanked Marcum’s body out of the silo.

“Come on...” Benlian muttered tersely and closed his eyes, offering a prayer to the Emperor for divination of strength. The pair’s grunting seized and they gasped as the alien within released its vise-like grip on Marcum. There was a sucking sound as Marcum’s tortured body flew out of the hole, landing flat on the rockrete ground.

Many soldiers screamed or yelled in utter shock, an extreme concussion on their senses at the sight of Marcum’s torso-less body lay on the ground, its legs still twitching in spasms. Pumping organs and glistening entrails pooled out of its exposed innards, painting the floor in blood red.

Benlian opened his eyes and looked at Marcum’s remains. Inside, Benlian shuddered. It could have been him or anyone else, peering into the silos and checking for threats. Anything that happened was the fate of all, and all was the fate of anything.

“Have faith in the Emperor, fellow defenders of Asat.” Benlian intoned, casting a reassuring gaze at the people around, utter shock and grief still written clearly on their faces.

Benlian forced his gaze to peel of the now still form of Marcum and approached the silo. The torn hole on it yawned open over before him, red human blood and black alien ichor coating its surface. He released a frag-grenade off his waist and flung it into the cylinder. A sibilant hiss could be heard as the alien within analysed the new intruder. Benlian began to back away, taking cover behind plasteel walls, gesturing for others to do the same.

The silo imploded, its sides stretching to impossible degrees for a second before erupting, releasing harsh blazes of flame and gobbets of liquids raining down all around.

“Area cleared?” Benlian inquired.

“Aye, captain.” Replied the soldiers one by one.

“We move on to Staging Point Alpha. Open formation; let known signs of enemy activity. Especially the silos.” Benlian ordered, giving the area a last visual sweep before turning his back to return to the breach in the warehouse wall.

Enemy elements around the breach point had mainly been overwhelmed. The great numbers of Chimera transports that kept pouring into the warehouse at the breach point had just proved too much for even the well deployed mutants, cultists and Tyranids to repel. Tech-adepts were now departing from specialised transports, attaching gleaming dozer blades onto the front hulls of the transports. Such equipment were used to clear the ruins and wreckage left by a battle, giving ample ground for men and machines to move and providing an open area to establish a staging point.

The vast rectangular hanger was a smoking ruin. Asat Guardsmen, alien, Tyranids and cultists bodies were strewn about, some mutilated beyond recognition. Medics were up and about, tending to the wounded and piling corpses into piles to clear the way. Injured soldiers lingered, limping and hobbling about looking for assistance.

Bel Company approached the other end, guns held at ready to enter the next area. According to the data slate held in Shralk’s grimy hands, the next area was a corridor running along the outer perimeter of the warehouse, connecting hangers and adjacent generatoriums. They were to travel along the corridor eastward, around four hundred metres before they were to turn into the main generatorium chamber, where they were to place explosive charges at pre-determined points around the chamber and activate them, of which will signal all Imperial efforts within the warehouse to evacuate.

Benlian stepped through the corridor, executing an entrance-clearing exercise flawlessly he and his soldiers practiced relentlessly during their training days. The corridor was bigger then Benlian thought. It was around thirty metres wide, obviously suited for bigger automatons to travel on. The corridor stretched towards both sides, losing its sight around a bend several hundred metres away. Thick, powerful looking conduits ran along the high ceiling, leaving a gloomy recess above them. Ladders at either side of the pipes and wires laden corridor walls led up to the conduits. They were on a raised platform, with metal grills as the floor. Beneath the grills was an ominous mist, obscuring the bottom and denying anyone atop from seeing it. However, that did not deny anyone from the bottom from seeing them. Benlian studied his surroundings intently and thought.

“We cannot travel on these grills,” Benlian explained, pointing downwards, “Scout Zeehan of Squad Belues, proceed to inspect the conduits at the opposite side and report back. Scout Lesner, do the same for the conduits above us.”

The two scouts nodded their approval and proceeded on their task.