Fighting With Faith- Forty-sixth Entry

The tapping came again. Then stopped. It came again suddenly, and stopped as sudden. It came and went. It appeared to be part of the buzzing background at first, but soon became an irritant.

“Will you stop that?” snapped Commissar Alphaues Leetol as he turned away from a pile of blueprints of the warehouse and glanced vehemently at the source of the irritation. It was his second in command, Staff Sergeant Loughe.

Snapped out his trance, Staff Sergeant Loughe knew better then to stop.

Loughe stood up, straightening his posture and uniform. He cleared his throat as sweat beaded his face.

“My apologies Commissar. I must have drifted into a ponderous moment as I waited for the response from the assault elements and Titan Azrael. Both have not hailed our call.” Loughe replied, concern etched into every inch of his face.

Commissar Leetol, dressed in his peak-toped cap and attire, sat as silent as a tomb as he contemplated the odds. Abjax, who was several metres away in the corner of the room reviewing reports, sensed the Commissar’s silence and strode to his side.

“Abjax, what are the latest of the companies that are to assault the Generatorium? From what I hear, the other insertion groups aren’t holding up that well. The Generatorium insertion group must get their job done now.” Leetol urged impatiently, glancing at his aide.

“Commissar, we have lost twelve percent of our overall force in the assault’s initial phase, however it is to note that twenty-two companies of the Generatorium’s insertion group have entered the Generatorium and have reported sightings of enemy elements.” Abjax replied, calm and coherent.

Leetol nodded, settling back into his seat and leaned over to Loughe.

“Commissar, there are confirmed sightings of Master Cultist Barnel and Kaweit in the Generatorium. The enemy forces there are tripled of what we expected.” Loughe coughed out, barely containing his horror at the finding.

Leetol stood up, clearing his throat, drawing the attention of everyone else in the command centre.

“Men of Asat, the moment of victory is at hand. The enemy offers us a blade to their head. We are to seize it. Mobolise the reserve companies- I go to battle.”




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Three hundred metres…

Benlian gulped, forcing down the lump in his throat. He shivered involuntarily at the sight of the leaping Tyranid creatures. The mutants that followed were no better.

Although feeling the rising urge to turn and run, Benlian knew he had been trained for this. Looking across his squad mates and the rest of the company, Benlian suddenly felt a spark of pride. These were his friends, his men, his soldiers. They had went through perilous trials together and emerged united.

Already nearly all twenty-five pre-designated companies were present, which Benlian was grateful for.

Let them come, and let us smite them. Benlian intoned a silent prayer to himself.

“Target!” Benlian yelled to his squad. There was no use whispering now: The shambling mutants were howling in a chorus of depraved voices for fresh meat to eat and the Tyranids were shrieking at intolerable decibels that resounded off the distant Generatorium ceiling.

At the order, nineteen lasguns were armed and loaded. The sound of nineteen clicking metallic reloads was assuring.

Two hundred metres…

“Heavy weapons, open fire!”

The sound of deep thumping filled the air as shells fired from heavy machine guns were pumped inexorably into the wave of oncoming creatures. Several booms sounded and rockets arched towards the swarm, trailing smoke and ionised air in its wake.

Hundreds of creatures were blown apart, leaving bloody chunks in the gap where it used to be- only to be replaced by two hundred more.

Zeralton gasped. “Emperor help us…”

Benlian glared at him, causing the cowering soldier to offer an apologetic smile and glance warily back into the teeming wave.

One hundred metres…

“Take aim…FIRE!” Benlian commanded as the line of Asat Guardsmen exploded in a flurry of las shots. Beams crossed the air, stitching the Genestealers and Hormagaunts that were dying by the hundreds. The smaller, luckier creatures sprinted, eager in the commencement of the slaughtering.

Fifty metres…

“Flamers!” Benlian bellowed.

Superheated air bathed the Guardsmen as they huddled in their cover. A gush of flame swept over the rockrete ground, as wild as it was bright. It burned and consumed everything in its path. The first elements of the Tyranids force were immediately reduced to charred remains, unrecognisable lumps in the trampling claws and hooves.

Benlian could make out the vile aliens’ leering faces, snapping claws and glistening carapaces.

“Bayonets!” The voice of another squad captain somewhere down the line called out.

Bloodied and razor sharp blades were shoved into place as they were raised ostentatiously towards the enemy.

A soldier from another company screamed, insanity taking a hold of him as he bolted out of his cover and ran head on into the swarm. Benlian stood transfixed as the soldier was reduced to bloody scraps of flesh within seconds.

It is not possible. Benlian thought in horror. His heart now pounded in his chest, threatening to break out of his ribs.

They were upon them.

Immediately Benlian’s vision was much more obscured, only to be replaced by a wall of shifting limbs, snapping claws and hungry mandibles.

Within seconds, all hell broke loose. Benlian looked around.

A blade lashed out, causing blood to spurt from a ruptured artery as a soldier fell to the floor choking on his own blood.

Several tiny creatures no more the size of rats bit at their ankles. Poisonous teeth sank into fresh flesh.

Bayonets batted off carapaces uselessly as the creatures turned angrily to the soldiers, fork tongues licking the air, tasting the fear of the men.

Benlian took aim at a pulsating organism roughly the size of a head, latched onto the back of a Genestealer and fired. It exploded in a rain of black slime and pungent odour, coating Benlian.

The Genestealer turned, nostrils flaring as it closed in on Benlian.

It charged towards Benlian, knocking him off his feet.

Benlian landed on the ground, nearly blackening out as he struggled to get back up on his feet. His vision clearing, Benlian opened his eyes to see the face of the Genestealer right in front of him.

Trying all he could against the awesome weight and might of the creature, Benlian still could not sit upright. He was pinned down; a prey to be feasted upon.

Benlian cried out in absolute terror, glancing about to look for help. All around, Benlian could see death and wanton carnage.

Heads rolled on the floor; eyes still wide open in pure terror. Limbs lay mangled on the ground, its owners writhing in agony beside it.

Blood showered the scene.

Suddenly, powerful shells slammed into the Genestealer above him. It shuddered, shrieking in agony as it tried to stay upright and sought the source of the bullets. A shell soon found its way to its head and blew it up, bathing Benlian in alien goo.

“MEN OF ASAT- KILL THEM ALL!” A voice boomed.

Benlian got to his feet, stumbling and turning around shocked to see Commissar Alphaues Leetol.

The Commissar emerged from a doorway, flanked by soldiers as they joined the bloody fray.

Benlian watched in joy as the Commissar holstered his pistol and held his scabbard high. The Commissar effortlessly sliced a Termagaunt’s head clean off, followed by firing shells into another.

With renewed vigour, the Guardsmen fought on.