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Authors: David Pringle,Neil Jones,William King

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #sf

Deathwing (10 page)

BOOK: Deathwing
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"We
pushed through
crowds
of screaming people
as
we followed our Librarian's locator beacon
toward the
city centre. Huge purestrain
Stealers erupted
from buildings
as
we advanced.
They
attacked
with insane
fury, but
without thought, and
so
we bested
them easily.
"In the
centre
of the
city we found
a temple - a building that obscenely
parodied
the
Imperial cult, dominated
by a huge four-armed
statue
of
what
was
intended
to
be
the Emperor.
We
toppled
it
into
the
street
and beneath
it
found
an entrance
into the
underworld.
"Down
we
went
into
the
cold,
metal
corridors.
We
passed through
airlocks
and
bulkheads.
It
was
like a buried spacecraft.
We still followed the
locator fix, determined to reclaim Two Heads
Talking's armour and
avenge
his death.
"At
first
we
made
easy progress
against
isolated
Stealer
attacks,
but
then
a
change
occurred.
For
a
while,
there
was peace.
'We exchanged
wary looks. Bloody Moon
asked
if
we
could possibly
have
killed
them
all.
I
can
even
now
picture
the puzzled look on his face. It was still there
when a
Stealer
dropped through
an
air
vent
and
took
his
head
off.
I
blasted the
thing
with bolter fire, reducing
it to bloody
mush.
"Now
the
Stealers
began
to
attack
again.
But
this
time their
attacks
were
co-ordinated,
guided
by
some
malign intelligence. It was as
if they
had
been
leaderless
for a time, but
a new fiend had
now taken charge.
"They
flanked us through
parallel corridors,
dropped through
vents
in the
ceiling.
Hordes
of
Stealers
and
their
human brood
attacked
from all sides. Waves
of them scuttled
forward
with
blinding
speed,
threatening
to
overwhelm
us
with sheer
numbers.
It
was a
horrible
sight,
watching
those
great
armoured
beasts
race
closer,
ignoring
their
kin
as
they
were cut
down.
"Still
they
came.
Our
point
men
and
rearguard
were
ambushed
and
killed.
The threats
came
so
fast,
we
almost
didn't have
time to respond.
"I saw
a
score
of
than
slain
by
flamer
fire,
and
the
stench
that
filled
the
air
was
indescribable.
They
spent
their
lives recklessly
in their blind lust
to kill us.
There was a sense
of terrible, oppressive
anger
in
the
air.
It
was
as
if
they
had
a personal
score
with us
and
were all prepared
to die to settle
it
"Any
other squad,
even
other
Terminator, would have
been
beaten
back by the
sheer
fury of
their
attack,
but
we
wore the
mark of Deathwing. Our funeral dirges
had
been
sung
- fear was not
in us,
and
we had
our own scores
to settle.
We pushed
forward. inch by tortuous
inch.

 

 

"Blood
washed
the
corridors
as
we
fought
our
way
into
a
great
central
chamber.
There
we
found
the
body
of
Two Heads
Talking. He
was
dead,
his
body
rent
by
great
wounds.
Nearby
lay
the
body
of
the
Patriarch,
not
a
mark
upon him.
"The
hall was full of foes,
purestrain
and
brood.
A
handful
of
us
had
fought
our
way
into
the
throne-room.
We
faced many
times
our
number.
For
a
moment,
we
stood
exchanging
glares.
I
think
both
sides
sensed
that
they
faced
their ultimate enemy - that
the
outcome
of that
fight would decide
the
fate of this
world.
"There
was quiet
in the
hall, silence except
for
the
cycling
of
our
breathers.
I
could
hear
my
heart
beating.
My
mouth felt dry. But I was strangely
calm, sure
that
soon
I
would
be
greeting
the
spirits
of
my ancestors.
The
Stealers
formed up, and
we raised our bolters
to the
firing position.
"At
an unspoken
signal,
they
charged,
mouths
open
but
making
no
sound.
A
few
of
the
brood
fired
ancient
energy weapons.
Beside
me,
a
Battle
Brother
fell.
We
laid
down
a
barrage
of
fire
that
tore
the
first
wave
to
pieces.
Nothing could
have
lived through
it. Everything
we fired at died. But there
were just
too
many
of
them.
They
swarmed
over
us, and
the
final conflict began
in earnest
"I saw Weasel-Fierce go down beneath
a
pile
of
Stealers.
His
bolter
had
jammed,
but
he
fought
on,
screaming
taunts and
insults
at his foes,
the
last I saw of him, he was tearing the
head
from a Stealer, even
as
it punched
a
claw through his chest.
Thus
passed
the greatest
warrior of our generation.
"Lame Bear and
I fought
back to back, circled about
by our enemies. Power glove
and
power
sword
smote
the
Stealers as
we cut
them down. If there
had
been
only a few more
purestrains, things
would
have
gone
differently
that
day,
but most of them seemed to have
died in the
initial futile attacks.
"As
it
was, things
were
close,
Lame
Bear
fell,
wounded,
and
I
found
myself
breast
to
breast
with
a
huge,
armoured horror.
The
leader
knocked
my
sword
from
my
hand
with
a
sweep
of
a
mighty
claw.
I
thanked
the Emperor
for
the digital weapons
in my power glove
and sprayed
the monstrosity's
eyes
with poisoned
needles,
blinding
it.
In
the
brief respite,
I found
time to bring my storm bolter to bear and
slay
it
"I looked around:
only
Terminators
stood
in
the
hall.
We
whooped
with
joy
to
find ourselves
still
alive,
but
then
the number of our fallen struck
us,
and
we stood
in appalled
silence. Only six of us
survived.
We did not count
the
number of the
Stealers fallen.
"In the
world
above,
the
children
of
the
Plains
People
waited.
A
huge
crowd
had
gathered outside
the
temple
to
see the
outcome
of our
battle.
They
looked
at
us,
awe-struck.
We
had
destroyed
their
temple
and
killed
their gods.
They did not
know whether
we were daemons
or redeemers.
"We
looked
on
the
weary
creatures
who
were
the
only
remnants of
our
former
clans.
We
had
won,
and
we had reclaimed our world. Still, our victory
seemed hollow. We had saved
our descendants
from the
Stealers, but
our
way
of life was gone.
"As
we stood
before the
assembled
throng,
it struck
me what we must do. The Emperor himself
provided
inspiration
in that
moment. I explained my plan to the
others.
"We
drove
the
crowds
from
the
city
and
assembled
them
on
the
plain
outside.
We searched
for
traces
of
the
brood among them, but
there
were none.
The Stealer taint seemed to have
been
destroyed
in our vengeance
war.
"I walked through
the
factories
and past
the
toppled
chimneys.
Then
we
took
our
flamers
and
burned
the
city
to
the ground.
We
divided
the
people
up
into
six
new
tribes
and
said
our
good-byes
to
each
other,
for
we
knew
we
would
likely never
meet again. Then
we led our descendants
away from the
still-blazing city.
"Lame Bear took his folk to the
mountains.
I brought
my people
to my old village, and
we rebuilt it. I do
not
know
what became of the
others.
"I have
told these
people
that
I was sent
by the
Emperor to lead them back to the
old ways. I
have taught
them
how
to hunt
and
fish
and
shoot
in
the
old
manner.
We
do
battle
with
the
other
tribes.
One
day
they
will
again
be
worthy
of becoming Sky Warriors."
Cloud
Runner
fell
silent
He
could
see
the
Battle
Brothers
had
been
moved
by
his
tale.
Broken
Knife
turned
to
the
Librarian
. Cloud Runner felt the pressure
of mind-to-mind contact.
"Brother
Ezekiel speaks
the
truth,
Brother
Captain
Gabriel."
said
the
Librarian.
Broken
Knife
looked
up
at
the
old
Marine.
"Forgive
me, brother.
I have
misjudged you.
It seems
the
Chapter
and
the
Plain's
People
owe
you
and
your
warriors
a great
debt."
'Semper
Fideles,"
said
Cloud
Runner.
"You
must
take
back
the
suits.
They
belong
to
the
Chapter."
Broken
Knife nodded.
"Perhaps a favour. In honour
of our dead,
leave
the suits
the
colour
of
Deathwing.
The deeds
of
our
brothers should be remembered."
"It will be so,"
replied Broken Knife. "Deathwing
will be remembered."
The Marines
turned
and
filed
out past
the dreadnought.
The
mighty
being
stood
there,
watching
Cloud
Runner
with inhuman eyes.
The Terminator's departure
left Cloud Runner suddenly
tired. He felt the
weight of his years
heavily.

 

 

He sensed
the
dreadnought
gazing at him and
looked up.
"Yes
, honoured
ancestor?"
he asked
in the tongue
of the
Plains People.
"You could
go back with us.
You are worthy
of becoming a Living Dreadnought,"
it said.
He wished
he could
return and
spend
his last years
with
his
Chapter,
but
he
knew
that
he
could
not.
His
duty
was
to his people
now. He must return them to the
Emperor's way. He shook
his head.
'I thought
not.
You are a worthy
chieftain of the
People. Cloud Runner."
"Any
Sky Warrior would be, Ancestor.
Few are given
the
chance.
Before
you
depart,
there
is
something
I
must
know. When
first we met, you
told me I should
not
become a Sky Warrior if
there
was anyone
I
would
regret
leaving
behind. Did you
have
any
regrets about
becoming a Marine?"
The dreadnought
stared
at him. "Sometimes I still do. It is a sad
thing
to leave people
you
care about
behind,
knowing they
will be lost
to you
forever.
"Goodbye
,
Cloud Runner. We will not
meet again."
The
dreadnought
turned
and
departed,
leaving
Cloud
Runner
among
his
people,
his
hands
toying
with
a
braid
of ancient
hair.

 

 

Name
s of the Deathwing
and
their translations:
Akkad (Stone
Heart) Ezekiel (Razor Wing) Azrael (Weasel
Fierce) Sergio (Lame Bear) Aradiel (Two Tongues) Conrad (Bloody Moon) Lionus (Long Spear) Gabriel (Fire Walker) Gdeon (Hawk Talon) Marcus
(Lonely Hunter) Lucius (Stalking Death) Matthias
(Red Fox) Raphael (Grey Mane) Nathaniel (Wind Runner) Pluvius
(Blood Blade) Octavius
(Swift Wing) Antonius
(Flying Eagle) Caliban (Iron Fist) Claudius (Red Crow) Adonai
(Stone
Hand) Uriel (Great Bear) Sammael (Doom Walker)
Vicconius (Laughing Sun) Saphon
(Pale Crow) Malloc (Rain Bringer)
BOOK: Deathwing
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