Fighting With Faith- 48^th

The command room was in a bustle. Various other messengers, commanders and Imperial officials ran along the outer perimeter of the circular room, handling various data slates and notes. Several were deep in conversation, every gesture enforced with purpose and power.

Tactician Abjax of the Asat Guard prowled through the shifting throng, glancing up occasionally to sight a servo skull buzzing by, recording and monitoring the ongoing operations.

For once, Abjax felt momentarily relived, the heavy burden of offering assistance to the Commissar on the overall running of the battle was demanding. What he wanted now was just a quiet, purposeful stroll around the bunker, resting and soothing his tired mind.

The bunker shook again, sprinkling dust and flecks off wall onto the crowd beneath. The Basilisks were still not letting up, constantly pounding the surroundings of the warehouse, providing adequate cover for the returning Chimera transports.

The air smelled of sweet incense, thick and heavy. The noon shift had just started, and the priests had just applied their daily dose of oil and unguents.

“Abjax! Come and see this…” a wide eyed messenger whom Abjax knew as Frolmin scurried towards him.

Sensing his urgency, Abjax quickly made his way over to the centre of the bunker, where a huge hololith dominated the circular platform. Green and red blips flashed continuously, revealing friendly and hostile units. Fortunately, the outer perimeter of the warehouse seemed secure enough. However the mass concentration of red dots in the Upper levels of the warehouse was distressing.

“There…” Frolmin whispered, pointing towards the brightest spot of red.

Abjax took it all in a glance. He easily spotted where Leetol was, along with the bulk of the assaulting units, in the central chamber that dominated the first floor of the warehouse. He also recognised additional friendly units entering from doorways 7 to 9.

“They’re crawling through the ducts and vents. Tyranids, definitely.” Abjax thought out aloud. “This must be relayed to them. Their short range scanners will be unable to pick them out; it’s too compact and hot in there.”

“Aye Tactia. So be it.” Frolmin replied and raised his wrist to his mouth. “All units, advised on mass Tyranid contacts entering from above. Repeat, mass enemy contact from above. Operations out.”

Done with his work, Frolmin glanced at Abjax helplessly. Both knew what each other was thinking.

After a long, agonising silence that seemed to last an eternity, Abjax sighed and spoke, “Just pray for them, Frolmin, the Emperor’s grace is needed here…”

“Benlian!” radio operator Palton of Bel Squad yelled from behind a fallen platform.

Benlian wrenched his combat knife out of the rib cage of a screaming cultist and turned around, dashing towards Palton.

Squad Bel had stalked through the wreckage of the Generatorium and finally emerged at the backlines of the Tyranid force. Several squads were already reinforcing the position and they were raking a bloody hole in the enemy forces from behind.

“Status.” Benlian said.

“Operations have just advised a mass of assumed Tyranid organisms coming down from above.” Palton said, one hand holding the mouth piece of the vox caster, the other clutching fearfully at his lasgun, obviously shaking hard.

“Shit.” Benlian cursed.

“What’s going on?” Kennil said as he dropped by, stooping low to avoid being seen.

“Mass enemy units dropping from top.” Benlian said curtly.

Kennil, momentarily surprised, raised an eyebrow to Palton.

“Which means we either pull back, or get ready for them to drop on us.” Benlian said impatiently, glancing warily at the looming, darkened ceiling. Sporadic gunfire and explosions lit the edges of the roof, and Benlian wasn’t sure if what he saw was merely an illusion or a shadow of something far more sinister.

“Throne…” Kennil moaned, nursing a bruised wrist of his as he contemplated the situation.

Benlian was about to give the call to fall back and regroup with the main force, but was stop short as hundreds of shrieking, clawing horrors leapt down from above.

“OPEN FIRE! ENEMY FROM ABOVE!” was all Benlian could say.