It took a few hours to get organised once more. The push was better than we could have ever expected. But once we started to reinforce our position, a briefing was called amongst the officers. I wasn't explicitly invited, but decided to go along.
Halfway to the base, a very smug Snuffles trotted up to me, coated in gore. Head held up high, he pranced behind me, very pleased with himself and definitely looking for some belly rubs. "Don't look at me, you're filthy." I said, laughing, using my hands to keep him at arm's length.
The sad whine I got in return wasn't going to fool me.
"I'll clean you off later, and then you get your belly rubs." At the bark of agreement, I carried on jogging to the base, planning my next steps.
Technically, my job was done, and I would need to return to the HQ soon, but I would stay for the next few days. Or just until the offensive stalled out. Once more, the seat to Lanto's right was free for me to use, so I was one of the few people sitting at the table. Everyone else was standing around it; the closer they were, the more senior they were.
As I sat, Rufus pointed at the map spread out over the table in front of us. "We have set up our line here. It will take time to get fully dug in, but unless they do a massive offensive in the next few hours, we should be secure."
Torq, the leader of the squad, clad in my carapace armour, said. "I don't think we should be waiting. We should push now. My men are ready, and we can blow through their line once more."
"Then we risk a counterattack, losing it all. What happens if this is a trap?" Rufus snapped.
"I don't think this is a trap; they lost far too much for it to be. They lost some of the best troops in the fighting. Hell, my squad alone killed dozens of their elites." Torq replied.
Before they could get more heated, Lanto cut in. "I agree with both of you. We need to make the most of this, but can't leave ourselves vulnerable. Torq, I agree it is unlikely to be a trap if they were alone. But we know this isn't a normal gang war. So we will be pushing; it might leave us slightly open, but from the intelligence we have, there are no threats that can challenge us. To that effect."
Reaching out, he tapped a large crossroads on the map. "We are going to push to here. This checkpoint."
"Isn't that where they are strongest?"
"Yes, but Torq is right. With the people we have here, we should be able to break through their lines with ease, at least before they get organised. I want to make the most of that. If we get control of that, we have won this front. It is where most of their supplies come in and would give us complete access across their territory."
I sat back nodding. I agreed with Lanto. This was too good of an opportunity to miss. With the losses they'd sustained, they shouldn't have much in reserve, so a big push here would cripple them and could effectively win this war. I lost interest in the rest of the discussion as they were planning it out in granular detail, something I had no interest in, although I did keep an ear out to make sure no one said anything stupid. Unlikely with Lanto there, but better safe than sorry.
After another thirty minutes, Lanto stood. "Okay jump to it."
Nodding, I drifted over to the structure, a disused petroleum silo, that I would be using for this battle. I would be playing a bigger part in this one, picking off key targets as the assault was launched. Snuffles would be staying near me but ready to jump into assist if need be. I didn't want him charging in the full-frontal assault.
Logically, I knew he would be fine, his armour more than up to it, but I wasn't going to risk it.
Hooking myself up onto the metal walkway, I powered and sighted my rifle. Only to mid-power for this one; I wouldn't need more than that and shifted until I was comfortable. I could see the massing troops still out of sight of the checkpoint.
Two large promethium tanks on either side of the road, with thick pipes running up over the road, had been fortified, with gun placements all around. We were going to need to push through some heavy resistance for this. I heard Lanto on the shared vox channel. 'Go, all units. GO!'
Without barely a conscious thought, I shot my first target. The man I knew to be in charge of the checkpoint. Information advantages for the win. My next dozen shots were on focused targets, taking out as many of the chain of command as I could.
After the fourth, they wised up and stayed out of sight, but even that did not save some of them, my shots punching through the thin sheet metal they were hiding behind. With them down, I turned my attention to the next greatest threats, the turrets. But they had already been hit hard, the other sniper or rockets putting in the work.
I could hear the deep thumps as the elite few that were rewarded with a gun similar to mine picked off those they could.
It could have been my mind playing tricks on me, but I swore I could pick out Jeraks's rifle shot through the carnage of gunfire. We were making good progress and were fully committed, with little option to retreat, not without massive casualties anyway, when Lanto sounded off in the shared vox channel once more. 'Halt. All units halt.'
I could see the chaos briefly erupt in our lines as the order spread, many as confused as me. With a flick, I voxed Lanto on his private channel. An underling of his answered, not surprising as he was probably getting dozens of calls for clarification.
'Put me through.' I commanded.
'Yes sir.' I blinked at that. Sir? Shaking the unimportant thought away, I focused back on the battlefield.
'Aleric. Go.'
'Lanto, the troops can't stop where they are; we need to finish the assault.'
'I know.' he snapped. 'But we are getting hit by the Iron Choir.'
'What when?' I said sharply.
'Right now. We have been overrun and are getting pushed back hard. Zardelle is taking control of it, but she will need backup.'
'Got it, but we can't stop now. Finish the push and get a convoy ready.'
'You have the better view; are you sure there's no way to pull back safely?'
'Yes I'm sure.'
'Very well.' Back on the shared channel, he commanded. 'All units advance once more.'
Like a wave slowly building momentum once more, I saw the court gangers surge forward. But the elite units obviously received different orders as they surged ahead. Pushing hard.
'Snuffles, attack!' I said, and from my periphery I saw him dart away, a blur through the shadows heading for the front lines. In this more chaotic fighting, he would be able to tear through them.
Once more focused on the battle, my helmet zooming in on a target, highlighting him with help from my scope, I started picking off Revenants once more.
Explosions erupted in one of the more fortified buildings as a missile struck it. Soon followed by another and another. He certainly wasn't holding back now. Those rockets were hard to get a hold of, and we have a limited supply of them.
With the added firepower, we made amazing progress, pushing them back on all fronts, but it wasn't without cost. Behind our marching soldiers was a trail of bodies far larger than it should have been if we weren't doing such a blitzkrieg advance.
Only moments after the final building around the checkpoint had been taken, I was scrambling down to the street and running to pick up my gear and then diving into the front seat of the waiting truck. Moments later, a gore-covered Katra hopped in beside me, with Torq climbing in beside her.
Behind us, the rest of the teams hopped into the back. The truck sped away before the back ramp was even fully closed. We were the first wave. Once things had stabilised, Lanto would be sending reinforcements. But they would be a few days behind.
"Is your mastiff not joining us?" Torq asked, holding his helmet in his lap.
Katra chuckled at that, also holding her helmet in her lap. "He will catch us up."
Grinning back at her, not that she could see it through my helmet. "You've got it. He is just helping clear up a few holdouts and will join us soon." I said as I unlocked my helmet, twisting it and then pulling it off.
With the chip in my head, I could communicate with Snuffles without the need for a vox. It had a limited range but was still very useful.
"So what are we going into Aleric?" Katra asked. Torq beside her, perked up at that.
Wiping my face with a rag, removing the moisture. The suits were environmentally controlled, but it didn't stop me from sweating in them. "Not sure, I haven't received a fresh report. Peggi and Zardelle should update me soon."
"Why did this take us by surprise anyway?" Torq asked.
I grimaced, thinking the same, even if I knew the answer. It couldn't have happened at a worse time. "Because the Iron Choir are not a normal gang. They don't expand and keep to themselves; they also have very little territory. Our lines were well away from their turf anyway. So there should have been no reason for them to get involved just yet."
"I still don't understand why they can be so small and still be so strong. You said they only had a few thousand gang member right?"
"About that. But it's the gang leader who is the problem. We have no idea where he came from, but we are pretty sure he was around long before the Court came about. Regardless of where he came from, he was an expert at servitor production. So over the decades, they have claimed thousands, if not tens of thousands, maybe even millions of bodies to be converted. Some were slaves, others rivals and still more just unlucky, in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"Are they really that dangerous? I have seen some and don't see it." Torq said.
"You have seen only the lowest type of servitors, manual labour ones or similarly simple servitors. These are an entirely different kettle of fish."
"Kettle of fish? You have the strangest of sayings." Torq said.
"You will get used to it. How are they different?" Katra asked.
"They are heavily armoured, so able to take far more damage than even your carapace squad Torq. And they don't feel fear. They will keep advancing no matter the damage they have had done to them."
"Still don't see it."
"We will find out soon enough, I suspect." I said before smirking as Snuffle pinged me. "You wanted to see if Snuffles could keep up with us?" I said, pointing out the window.
"By the Emperor." Torq whispered. As we watched Snuffles blur through the building next to us, gracefully darting through them, springing from rubble pile to rubble pile, getting closer and closer. I just sat watching him, enjoying his moment to let loose.
When he turned on the taps, there wasn't much that could keep up with him. But more than anything, it was his grace. He was a huge metal dog; he had no right to be as smooth and graceful as he was. With the distance closed, he scaled a collapsed building in a few bounds and sprang from it to thump, paws scratching against the metal roof of our truck.
We could hear the clanking of claws as he prowled closer until they were right above us. Some swearing sounded behind us as it took some of the squad by surprise. From the passenger side window, Snuffles head suddenly popped into view, upside down, looking at us. Torq swore, but I just laughed, Katra joining me at his goofy look, tongue hanging out and flapping in the wind.
"Good boy, get settled now. We have a long time to go."
Huffing, he paced around on the roof of the cabin before curling up.
---
I was having constant conversations over vox, receiving and sending progress reports. Luckily, the front we had just left was stable. They were just digging in, ready to hold, with no expectations of advancing anytime soon. Unfortunately, the other front was not looking nearly so good.
The Iron Choir were pushing us hard. They had overrun many of our outer defences and were still making good progress. We were lucky we had prepared so thoroughly, so at least we were slowing them down. But not by much, I couldn't get a clear idea of what we would be up against, at least not from the descriptions I was given.
I at least knew what to look out for. There were three main types we would have to deal with. The first were the simplest, what had come to be called Clankers. They were the most common servitor we were facing. Horrifying patchwork people, a sloppy fusion of metal and flesh.
Then there were the Spindlehounds, fast-moving, smaller servitors, mainly used as scouts, but they had accurate lasrifles. Making them dangerous to anyone caught unaware. And then there was the main problem. The Luggers, behemoths that smashed through our defences.
It was these that were causing us problems. With our reinforcements as well as the larger guns, this should decrease. But damage had already been done, and every fallen soldier was just a resource they could throw back at us.
We had barrelled through Glow Gate hours ago and entered the tunnel network. Unlike the journey to the Sump Revenants territory, which followed the main tunnel and tram line, so was wide open spaces. Here it was through winding, claustrophobic tunnels, occasionally opening out into larger chambers filled with rotting machines. Left over forges, factories and processing plants. The walkways twisted and eroded from the centuries, if not millennia of neglect.
Zardelle was far ahead of us and had taken command of the front line; with the support she brought, she had managed to halt some of the advances, but there were dozens of tunnels to defend, and the main advance was still grinding slowly forward.
At least with her there, there was no danger of a full rout, which had been a concern at one point. Apparently, someone who went by the name Torch managed to rally them. If he survived this, he had a bright path ahead of him, pun not intended.
According to Zardelle, he was impressively competent, and she had used him heavily in the first few hours of her command.
My vox crackled to life, 'Aleric, how far out are you?' Zardelle asked, voice tight with stress and tiredness.
'Just gone through section B153.'
'Good. Follow these directions." she said, listing them out. 'That will take you to a chamber. I need you to hold it. You have your Monster right?'
'Never leave home without it.' I confirmed.
'Good.' I could almost hear the relief in her voice. 'You are going to need it.'
'Where are the others going?'
'I need them elsewhere. I will inform them separately.'
'Got it.'
'Good luck.'
'You too.'
As the vox cut off, I fed the instruction to the driver, who nodded and sped up slightly. Not easy in the narrow tunnels. I turned to ask Katra something, but saw her speaking into her helmet, likely getting her marching orders, so I waited for her to finish before asking. "Got your orders?"
"Yeah. We are to join the counteroffensive that will hopefully cut them off and slow the main advance. Then we will be hitting what supply line we can."
"Dangerous." I observed, slightly concerned for her safety. That would likely be the worst of the fighting.
"Yes and no. According to Zardelle, the servitors are limited, so it might be easier than if they were all organic."
That made sense in a way. While the servitors were fearless, advancing without faltering, they were also relying on commands on a control chip. They could only perform the commands on it, so they were very one-dimensional. Still dangerous but predictable.
Unless they had a way to give different commands, which I am sure they did. Otherwise, they would just keep following the previous order. Like advance and attack, even if there wasn't anything to attack or any way to advance.
A few minutes later, the truck pulled up next to a crossroads. "This is where I leave you. Good luck and stay alive." I said with a grin at both of them. I had come to respect, even like Torq in the few days we had been stuck in the lorry.
I had interacted with him before, not least when I fitted him for his armour, but they were always formal occasions. I found he was surprisingly philosophical, which I hadn't expected from the grizzled veteran.
Pulling Katra into a brief hug and resting a hand on her shoulder. "Stay safe." I said, maintaining eye contact until I saw she took it seriously. When I saw she did, I hopped down, Snuffles padding down next to me, having jumped from the room.
I was still impressed by how quiet he could be, which was a stark contrast to how noisy he was when we were at home. I knew he did it deliberately, the little shit, but he gave me his patented blank innocent look whenever I called him up in it.
Grabbing my gear, I jogged up the tunnel. A few paces in, a young man came to meet me. Bags under his eyes and dust, oil and gore coating him and his clothes. "Private." I said by way of greeting him. "Take me to the commander."
Looking relieved to see me, he nodded vigorously. "Right this way Thumper."
As we set a fast pace down the tunnel and out into the larger chamber, I could hear the occasional gunfire in the background. All around me was a hive of activity as the room was reinforced as best as possible. We were in a large forge area. The massive crucibles used to refine the metals had long collapsed to the floor dozens of metres below our platform.
The room was massive, hundreds of metres long, maybe even several kilometres and maybe hundreds wide. All through it was a criss-cross of metal walkways, some small but others large enough for trucks to use. Many were unusable, but there were a dozen or so paths that still crossed the room.
Barricades were going up at the exits of these paths, with the focus on the larger paths, which I nodded at approvingly. Unfortunately, there was no platform for me to shoot from; there were girders and other metal struts all up the walls and ceiling, but none of them looked suitable for me.
I would need to get one made if I was going to be the most effective I could be.
I walked past soldiers, all exhausted and clearly on their last leg. I had arrived just in time, it looked like. "What's the situation?"
"Errmm?"
"Just tell me what you know."
"The main attack is still several hours out. The scouts can't get any more accurate than that, getting picked off by Spindlehounds." He gave me the run-through of what he knew, brief as it was, before we reached the commander, a surprisingly young woman in well-maintained armour, with a knot of runners and her aides around her.
As we approached, I could hear her barking orders and directing the frantic chaos around the room. Upon seeing me, a flash of relief crossed her face before it was hidden behind practised confidence once more.
"Thumper."
"Commander."
"What you know?"
"Not enough, so please brief me on the situation."
"We are digging in, building what fortification we can." She said, waving at the work going on around us. "What good it will do us," I raised my eyebrow at that. "without some heavier weapons, the Luggers are going to tear through them with ease."
Nodding in understanding, "That will be where I come in. I need your people to build me a platform, but with that, I can deal with them."
"I hoped that was why you're here. If you can take them out, we stand a chance to hold this section of tunnels, and if we hold here, that is one of our flanks secure."
"Are we getting reinforcements?"
"Yes and no. Not many more troops, but we are getting some heavier weapons that we can set up as turrets, but they are still a few days out. My orders are to hold here until then."
"How coordinated are they?" I asked. That was my main fear. If they worked well together, we would be in trouble even if I took out the Luggers.
"Mixed. We have identified what intelligence have called Relay-Node Thralls. We just call them Whispermen. They can direct the servitors and are part of the mass, so are hard to get at. Otherwise, they rely on the gangers to direct them." Nodding, I kept asking questions and more or less took command of the situation.
I left most of it to her; she was clearly competent enough and had been doing a good job so far, so there was no need to shake things up, but she did defer to me. We had made okay progress, although not as good as I hoped, when the shout went up that the Iron Choir, or as they were creatively called by the rest of the troops, 'Metalwake', had arrived.
Leaving her to direct things from the front line, I hopped up onto my makeshift tower. It wasn't fancy, but it did the job, allowing me a good view of the entire chamber. Snuffles sat at its base, ready to be called on when we knew where they would pressure hardest.
Out front were the clangers, 1000s of them, all a patchwork of flesh and metal, all different shapes and sizes, with metal bolted onto the bodies regardless of how well they fit. The only uniform thing about them was the crude plasteel plating riveted to their bodies to cover their vitals.
And the silence. Their faces were mostly gone; only crude cybernetic eyes remained. There were no war cries or shouting of commands. Just silence.
They were armed with anything to hand, from pipes and blades to autoguns. The only good thing was their slow speed, shambling across the gangways.
Coming out behind them, ponderously advancing, were the Luggers. Towering monstrosities of flesh and steel, smashed together into deformed beings, each over 4 metres tall, with heavy plating. Some of which I recognised as tank armour. They too came in all shapes, some had tank tracks, others four limbs, each of a different design, dragging them forward, steam hissing from actuators and servos as they moved.
There were only six, but that would have been more than enough to smash through us without difficulty.
I couldn't see any of the Spindlehounds, but I did spot a few other types dotted around. One made itself known as soon as the Metalwake started to close in on us. They looked well-made, with vox bolted to their backs and chemical tanks strapped where they could fit. They started belting out loud music and holy chants as well as a hiss of incense that hovered around them like a cloud.
Giving the mass of troops one last look, shooting the few Whispermen I spotted, I turned my attention to the lumbering behemoths. I didn't fire immediately, firstly because I was charging up my capacitors to their full power, not something I'd done in a long time, having had no need to.
But also looking for weaknesses.
There was no way I could punch through the thick plating at their front, so I would need to find a weak point. As the shambling army split, each going down a separate channel, I spotted what I was looking for. A less armoured patch in one of the legs of the lead Lugger.
Without hesitation, I braced myself and fired on my next natural pause as I finished exhaling. A ghost of a smile crossed my face, my shot striking exactly where I was aiming. The limb gave out, and it toppled to the floor, crushing the servitors around it.
A cheer went up from our lines, seeing one of them harmed, something that had rarely happened until now. In fact, up until now, only three had been destroyed, able to tank even heavy stubbers without fear. It was a missile launcher that managed to take one out, and a well-placed, or more likely, a lucky grenade, the other.
The lugger heaved itself up again and kept advancing, but it was unstable, and I knew what to look out for now, so within moments I spotted the next weakness. I didn't fire right away, timing my shot so it didn't just put its full weight upon the leg but was also near the edge of the walkway.
It was a shame my idea of destroying the walkways was a no-go. They might have been corroded and twisted, but they were still strong and would require far more explosives than we had to collapse.
My shot was perfect, the limb collapsing under it. Instead of crushing those under it, it flailed as it toppled over the walkway down to the twisted crucibles below. Even if it survived, it was no longer a threat, so I turned my attention to the next one.
This one was advancing over the central walkway and was slightly faster than the others with its tank tracks. There was little I could sabotage there, so I looked for a more fatal weak point. I cursed myself slightly for having positioned my tower in the centre of the room. While giving me a good field of vision, it meant that the lugger was coming directly at me rather than at an angle.
All I could see was rusted plating.
With nothing else for it, I took an educated guess and fired. It struck the thick plating 2/3rds down its chest, sparks arcing around it. Even something as large as it felt the round, cracking the armour. As I had hoped, the bundles of cables I saw coming from the area weakened the armour enough for the 4th shot of my armour-penetrating slugs to punch through.
The entire lugger shook, electricity sparking off it, before it slumped, coming to a stop.
They'd made it three—four hundred metres by this point. At eight hundred, the heavy stubbers opened up, cutting down the clankers. But not as quickly as I expected, their armour and redundant systems holding up under the heavy fire.
I took a moment to snipe a Whispermen servitor as I panned to the next lugger. That one was easy, my round disintegrating the head of the Whispermen with ease.
The next lugger was a deformed and hunched but still vaguely humanoid giant. It looked like several people had been sewn together to make it. But this made it easy for me. My shot took it through its cybereye and exited the back of its skull in a spray of gore. It carried on a few paces as if it hadn't realised it was dead before collapsing.
I slowly picked them off, each of the next ones taking multiple shots, allowing them to close. 500m, 400, 300. When they were within 500m, those with the better shots, mostly soldiers, opened up with their autoguns. This proved even less effective on the clankers, needing a precise shot to kill them, or they just kept coming. I saw one have its arm shot off, but it didn't even flinch and just kept plodding along, with the heavy chanting in the background.
At 200m I sighted on the last lugger. I had left this one to last for a reason. It was clearly the best made. With well-crafted plating covering it from head to toe. It didn't have a head or any other visible weak point like the other had, just smooth red plating.
Its two powerful legs carried it forward at a slow but constant pace. With nothing else to aim for, I focused on the left leg, as it offered me the best angle. There were small gaps within the plating as it moved for the leg joint, but it was only sporadic, as most of the time a larger plate covered this.
Counting it down, I fired, the gun bucking in my shoulder.
A good hit, but not enough.
Three more times I fired, each shot weakening the leg, but it carried itself forward. In my focused state, I didn't notice how close it was getting to our lines, not that it would have made a difference. I was doing all I could.
Finally, after the fifth shot, it collapsed, and the servo in its leg shattered. But not soon enough.
In its last movement as it collapsed, it threw itself forward, the arm and the maul fused with it, striking the barricades. They offered no resistance as they collapsed and scattered inward, throwing bodies and rubble everywhere.
A wave of clankers followed.
Cursing, I called it in and sent Snuffles to assist. For now, there wasn't anything I could do for them. I turned my attention to the rest of the battle. The other sides were holding nicely, or as well as could be expected. It was only here, where the lugger reached our line, that they had broken through.
Luckily, now it was down, I could see its back and a weak point. A shot later, and it was dead. But the damage was done.
And whoever controlled the servitors saw it too. I could see the clankers shift as their orders changed. I couldn't allow that. I started to pick off the Whispermen as fast as possible, breaking their comms. In some places, it worked; the tide of servitors kept marching forward slowly to their death, but I was too late in other places, the servitors changing directions for the breach below me.
There wasn't much left to snipe. Not high-value targets anyway. I made a snap decision. I could keep snipping, but I would be more useful down on the ground. Leaving the rifle where it was, I drew my pistol as I climbed down. Pinging Snuffles to get his location, I started to march towards it.
---
Nork, otherwise known as Whimper to his squad mates, heaved a heavy block of rubble into the steel crate with a grunt. Whimper was the unfortunate name he had been saddled with after their first fight. An involuntary scream, and that was his call sign set in stone. No matter how hard he tried to shift it.
Around him, hundreds of others were working around the clock to build up what blockades they could. The gun nests for the heavy stubbers were already set up. Now they were just working out ways to slow down the clankers. He fought to not send a nervous glance across the gangways snaking to the other side of the chamber.
He had been part of the first defensive line when those monsters of metal and flesh had stormed them. They had come out of nowhere; their first signal that something was wrong was a loud hymn blasting out. Before they could even organise, they were attacked by the unfeeling monsters.
Guns didn't seem to be effective, pinging or sparking off their armour. When they did hit something critical, two more were waiting to take its place. In some cases, literally, as they walked over their fallen to get at them. Even with all this, they might have held; they had been fortifying their position for months.
But then the luggars came, smashing through their line with ease. It was a miracle he had survived. To this day, he wasn't sure how he had; maybe because he and the squad had been lucky enough to be patrolling the far walls when the assault hit them.
The return of little Fesk pulled him from his spiralling thoughts. Taking a deep, calming breath, trying to get his heart back under control from its racing pace, he asked. "What's got you in such a good mood?" Fesk's bright grin was at odds with the fear around him.
"I saw him." he whispered, his eyes shining.
Someone down the line, it sounded like Skarn, shouted. "If it was the Emperor, tell him to send a miracle."
Nork ducked his head instinctively, looking around anxiously before remembering he was in the underhive now, not the manufactorum he was raised in. There, any disparaging remarks about the Emperor were met with a swift and harsh punishment by the faithful around them. If they were particularly unlucky, a priest would have overheard them, or even worse, one of the zealots.
They creeped him out; while he was faithful to the Emperor, as any good citizen should be, they took it to an uncomfortable level. He had seen them beat an entire family to death, children as well. One had been but a babe; how they could have been heretical, he wasn't sure.
"No Thumper."
Nork blinked. "What? Really?"
Fesk nodded fast. "I showed him to Shela."
"That's Commander Shiela to you." Came the sharp voice of their squad lead, followed by a light cuff to the back of Fesk's head. Nork snorted; he would never not find it funny when Fesk forgot to call her by her rank. At least he had stopped calling her Auntie Shela. Not that anyone dared tease him about it. The commander was fair but harsh; it was best not draw her attention if possible.
""What was he like? Did you get to see his mastiff?"" Everyone asked at once.
Nork leaned in, whispering, "Was he really here? What was he like?"
"Yeah," Fesk said, eyes wide. "he had that full carapace armour on. Intense. Definitely intense. It was like he was staring into my soul."
Longing filled Nork; he desperately wanted that armour. He had seen some of it in action one time, and it was amazing. He had asked on the sly and been laughed out of the armoury.
"And the mastiff?"
"I'm getting to that," Fesk snapped, clearly enjoying the attention now. "The mastiff was terrifying. Bigger than I thought. Waaaay bigger. It just stood there, but you could feel it watching you. Like it knew who was weak."
Even as they spoke, Nork could hear the whispers around them, spreading out down the line like wildfire. There was some apprehension, even fear, on their faces. Thumper was the real deal. A legend. But more than anything, he saw a spark of hope.
Something completely absent only minutes before.
Nork was no different and could feel his spirit rise. With him here, maybe there was a chance after all. With renewed vigour, he threw himself back into work. Many of his squad mates doing the same.
Thumper wouldn't be here if they were getting thrown into the furnace. Right?
The more he thought about it, the more Nork convinced himself that was the case. His entire legend was killing the unbeatable. The monster, the hardpoint, he had even heard he killed a gang leader ten kilometres away.
That one might have been exaggerated, but he didn't know for sure. Which said something of its own.
He was right up there with the other figures like the Warmaster or Slasher. Although she still creeped him out.
They had managed to finish most of what they set out to do, making the many pathways to them as hard to get through as possible, but looking out at the approaching horde, it didn't feel like enough. Fear coiled in his gut, and he could see it in the men around him.
They were part of the teams guarding the main pathway to them. He'd felt secure with all the others around him, but looking at the approaching servitors, marching in silence, it didn't feel enough. And they were still exiting the tunnels on the other side.
More and more of them shuffled towards them.
A strange song echoed from unseen speakers, bouncing around the large room. It sent his hair on end. Gulping, trying to steady his nerves, he reminded himself they were ready this time. But at the loud moan and heavy steps that could be heard from the other side of the chamber, he felt himself waver at the sight of the luggers.
He remembered what they did last time. The steady march toward them, nothing hurting them. They smashed through the defences like they were nothing. And there were so many of them. How could they hold them off now when they couldn't before?
"Hold! HOLD!" Their squad leader shouted.
Looking around Nork, realised he had taken a few steps back, and he wasn't the only one. Down the line, he could hear other officers shouting similar things. Some were even threatening to shoot them if they fled. But even with their shouting, Nork could feel the fear and their will wavering.
He saw several men further down the line take a few more steps. Those around them following. Even the threats of the squad leaders didn't seem to be enough.
Just before it could become a full route, a deep boom shattered the atmosphere. Cutting through the fear and the battle chants. Snapping back, Nork looked back at the approaching servitors and watched as one of the luggers at the front collapsed.
His heart beating with hope, he joined the ragged cheer. But it slowly petered off when the monster regained its feet, dragging itself towards them. How was it still going? It was hard to make out at this distance, but Nork's eyes had always been good, so he could see the massive hole in its arms.
He gulped, fear rising once more. How could they be stopped? Only for it to be shattered once more, as another boom echoed out from behind them. He watched as the lugger staggered and toppled over the gangway to the floor below.
He joined the full cheer this time, his will bolstered. Moving back to the line, he settled his autogun against his shoulder, waiting, watching as the luggers were picked off one by one to the mighty boom of Thumper's rifle. Wishing he had something similar, but that was for only the best snipers. Then he was too busy to think, firing at the approaching horde.
He risked a glance at the other pathways and felt his spirits rise further as they were holding. Nork's confidence went up with each of the luggers that collapsed.
That changed to terror as one lugger was still approaching, staggering and battered as it was. It didn't stop him from firing and reloading as fast as he could.
Grabbing mags that got passed around by the runners, moving back and forth through the line.
He was far enough away not to be hit, but he could only watch in horror as the lugger reached the line, smashing through the barricades and the servitors pushing against it. A sharp crack sounded, and a cloud of dust spread out from it.
Nork mechanically reloaded and kept firing, but then the cloud reached him, and he could see little else.
By the time it cleared, he could see the servitors amongst them, cleaving through them. "Turn your fire! We hold them, and we've won!" His leader shouted.
He tried, but there was chaos, the sound of fighting all around him, and the servitors were unstoppable. Unfeeling, it slowly marched towards them. But his heart was firm this time. He remembered there were not that many left.
They could do this.
Then Jimmy was bisected, his blood coating him. Gasping in surprise, Nork fell back, only to look up in fear and then anger at the servitor that had just killed his friend. With a scream, he rolled out of the way, bringing his gun to bear and unleashing it at the monster, cutting it down.
But even with it dead, another replaced it.
He felt calm, an inner peace and an acceptance that he would be joining Jimmy with the Emperor soon.
A powerful roar thundered from behind him as a huge shape leapt over him and the others around him. It landed, flattening the servitors and raking at those around it, tearing them to shreds. Gasping in awe, he stayed still a moment just watching as the mastiff tore through them with ease.
"Nork, what the fuck are you doing? Get back to your feet!"
Startled at the shout, he scrambled to his feet, joining the others pushing the servitors back. With each step they made, he could feel the excitement rising. They were doing it. They could do this.
Step by step, they pushed them back to the destroyed barricade. At some point, a las pistoleer had joined them, downing the servitors with pinpoint precision. It took him a surprising amount of time to realise it was Thumper, making his chest puff up proudly.
No one was going to believe this at home, getting to fight side by side with Thumper and his mastiff.
A shout interrupted his daydreaming. "Nork. Nork! Look out!"
Startled, he turned, only to see a servitor that was torn apart but still functioning somehow. Nork tried to step away from it, but it was too late. Something hit him, and he collapsed to the floor. Stunned, he blinked, suddenly feeling cold; it was like the lights had dimmed. His vision darkening.
He tried to speak, but he didn't have the strength; slumping, Nork slipped into darkness.