The hivecity was artfully constructed, albeit in a curiously inhuman fashion.
At first glance it looked like a random, disorganised pattern of tightly clustered hexagonal towers, here three stories, there nine, there six, but further inspection showed that individual elements varied their height following an irregular, repeating pattern which meant that no single vantage point offered an uninterrupted view over the metropolitan sprawl. Even the taller buildings had strange architectural baffles of varying sizes and complexity on their upper levels which could not be scaled, and thus further reduced the utility of any one vantage point. Imperial Army intelligence had labelled the baffles as ‘decorative’; that assessment would need to be updated.
Not that height was any particular advantage, mused Temeter.
The entire ground level was covered, hiding the cloistered streets from view and in essence making the ‘city’ one unified edifice. The reconnaissance squads had also reported tight, covered streets and thoroughfares which always branched off at 120° angles following the pattern of the larger structures’ sides. A veritable maze, easy to become lost in with no reference points to look up to and no visible signage.
Had it not been for the insistence of the Mechanicum, the city would have already been levelled from orbit by the Eventide. As it was, Crusade Command had ordered the Dusk Raiders to clear it the old-fashioned way then escort the Martian delegation to their objective: The potentially intact core of an ancient human colony, upon the bones of which the Xenos had later founded their accursed hive.
“Zone Mortalis?” Temeter looked at his small coterie of assembled officers.
“Zone Mortalis…” nodded the Anthracite in agreement, “It’ll be a brutal, close quarters affair to push through to the target – I can deploy the Stalwart Choral, but they can’t man the vanguard alone. As much as I hate to admit it, the Eurypterid swarms will eventually overrun them, especially if the skitters bring up heavy support.”
“We can deploy a Vindicator to keep the heavier Xenos constructs off the Castellax, but they’ll need close infantry support” offered Temeter’s adjutant.
“We could deploy Haadlingen’s Penitents, the Warhound wanted them to experience attrition after all…” The Anthracite trailed off when he saw the look of admonishment on Temeter’s face.
“No, this is a job for Sergeant Tullus’s Bloodshields – His breachers will give us a rolling defence line and a solid bulwark we can reinforce with troops from the main advance. Besides, it’ll be good for his men to fight planetside for a change…”
The Anthracite snorted derisively, “Xenos hivecity or void action, a corridor’s a corridor to a dogged shield-thumper.”
—
“So that’s it…” She hissed, “That’s the link.”
“Yes” He gazed passed her at the windows of his cell, noting the slight stutter as the loop in the recording of the palace vistas began yet another endless, demoralising cycle.
“This Breacher Sergeant, Tullus, is the Dogged Son – The Contritum’s rank system is based on the iconography his original squad used on their shields.” As she spoke the words, the triumphant look painted across her features, cast them in an ugly, vicious light.
“Yes, Tullus wasn’t recalled to Istvaan III – No need for Breachers in open warfare. He was missed. A simple logistical oversight, but they soon realised and tried to correct the error. I was with him when the Primarch’s kill order came through. Most of his squad died getting me, and others like me, out of that hell. I owe him a debt I can never repay…”
“Why didn’t he join the others who fled for Terra, the Flight of the Eisenstein, the other errant sons?” She hissed.
“Temeter. What they did to Temeter. And Huron-Fal. And all his other brothers. He just couldn’t let it stand. The same way you and your kin can’t let it go. The same way I can’t stop the hate that curdles my heart every time I think of that bastard Mortarion…”
- King – Sergeant
- Queen – Vexilla
- Bishop – Vox
- Bishop – Breaching Charge
- Knight – Volkite (with pip)
- Knight – Volkite (with pip)
- Rook – Volkite (No pip)
- Rook – Volkite (No pip)
- – 20. Pawn – Bolter