Chapter 2

With barely a whisper of sound the scouts slid through the undergrowth. Each scout just visible to the next in an extended vee, their sergeant at the apex, they slipped through the ferny tangle with barely so much as a displaced branch. With gestures and brief tongue-clicks on the vox-bead, the sergeant pulled brother Hezron, who had been lagging, back into his correct place in the formation. Eyes constantly scanning, they searched the wild tangle for any trace of movement, for anything out of place.

They froze as in the distance a shot rang out, the familiar snap-crack of an Imperial lasrifle. An answering roar came back, and the forest erupted into a cacophony of screams and weapons fire.

A quick flick of the sergeant’s vox-bead,

‘Go!’
…and the scouts burst into motion, stealth forgotten as they sped towards the noise, bolters at the ready.

***

As they crested the last rise, the sergeant drew his squad up short.

‘That clearing ahead. Bolters ready, by the numbers. Phineas, prepare to clear the way,’

Phineas nodded, bringing up the heavy bolter slung over his right shoulder. The others made last minute checks of their gear as they approached the clearing.

Just before the edge of the tree line, a pair of struggling figures burst through the foliage. One was instantly recognisable by the uniform of the Nirian 25th Planetary Defence Regiment. The other was a huge, green, gruesome slab of muscle and teeth, with one hand the size of a human head locked around the guardsman’s throat. Roaring in anger, the ork swung the guardsman like a toy, smashing him against the bole of a giant shinoa tree. As he was released, the hapless human fell bonelessly to the ground, lying still in a spreading pool of blood.

‘Phineas!’

At the sergeant’s cry, the scout opened up with the heavy bolter. The massive weapon’s roar blocked out all sound from the clearing in an instant, and the ork had time to swing about in surprise before being shredded by the explosive bolts.

‘Move in!’ yelled the sergeant.

The squad charged through into the clearing, bolters roaring out a challenge at the startled greenskins. Quickly assessing the scene, the sergeant noted three guardsmen still standing, several more on the ground. Nearly a dozen orks had been closing in on them. Most now turned at this new challenge from their flank, several falling under the hail of fire from Phineas’ weapon. Five more fell from the others’ bolter fire before the orks recovered themselves and charged headlong at the scouts. With a metallic scream, the sergeant’s chainsword blurred into life, monomolecular teeth shrieking for blood. He roared, and met the first ork head-on, ducking under its clumsy swing. Bringing up his bolt pistol, he fired three rounds straight into the creature’s chest. The chainsword swept up as the ork fell back, taking off its head in a clean sweep. As he moved on the next, he glanced at his charges, noting their positions.

The scout beside Phineas stepped back a pace as his bolter jammed. Cursing, he threw the weapon aside, drawing his combat knife and leaping into the fray. One of his battle brothers swung in close, pressing another knife into his hand.

‘Here, Lukas!’

‘My thanks, Simeon,’ Lukas called back, swinging around to block an overhand swing from an ork with a massive axe. Simeon was lashing out with the butt end of his bolter, catching an ork in the side of the head, then swinging back to pump a round into the creature’s torso. Plunging both knives into the neck of the ork in front of him, Lukas was surprised to find himself without another opponent. Looking around, he spotted the last few orks disappearing into the undergrowth, swatting brush and smaller trees aside as they passed.

‘Do we follow, Brother-sergeant?’ he called.

The sergeant glanced around the clearing, noting that the guardsmen had all fallen.

‘Negative. Hezron, Simeon, check out those bodies. Phineas, set up an overwatch, in case they return before we are done. Lukas, see to your weapon.’

Lukas turned quickly and scooped up his bolter, stripping open the casing to clear the jam, as Phineas moved behind a fallen tree. Propping the heavy bolter on the stump, Phineas swung it back and forth several times, establishing his field f fire.

Hezron and Simeon approached the fallen guardsmen, checking each body in turn.

‘Doesn’t look like any survivors Brother-sergeant,’ Simeon called.

‘Wait!’ Hezron had moved aside a couple of bodies. Buried beneath them was another, clad in a long black coat. ‘This one’s alive,’

Dragging the man out into the open, Hezron quickly checked him over.

‘Doesn’t seem to be injured. Perhaps he caught a blow to the head.’

The sergeant knelt beside the black-clad form, pulling out his water bottle.

‘An Imperial Commissar. Let’s see what he has to say,’ he said, splashing some water on the man’s face. With a splutter, the Commissar started awake, staring wildly up at the sergeant.

‘What… who…’

‘Easy, Commissar. I am Sergeant Balak, of the Betharin Hunters. You are safe.’

With a blink, the Commissar seemed to pull himself together. He rose unsteadily to his feet. Gathering his coat about himself, he glanced at the bodies of his former unit.

‘The Orks?’ he asked.

‘Routed.’ Balak replied, ‘Probably still running.’

The Commissar looked up sharply.

‘How long ago?’

‘Five minutes or so. We chased them off, and then saw to you.’

Setting his jaw, the Commissar drew himself up before the sergeant.

‘We must go after them, and finish them off,’ he said.

‘No, Commissar,’ the sergeant replied firmly, ‘My men are tired. We are heading back to headquarters. You may accompany us, if you wish.’

‘Not acceptable, sergeant! All enemies of the Imperium must be hunted down and destroyed. They have only a small start on us. If we hurry now, we can catch them.’

‘I told you, Commissar, the only place my men are going is back to base.’ The sergeant turned and, gesturing to the others to fall in, began walking for the tree line.

‘You will heed my orders, sergeant!’ the Commissar called after him, ‘By the authority invested in me…’

Balak cut him off without slowing his pace, ‘You have no authority over warriors of the Adeptus Astartes, Commissar,’

‘Then you leave me no choice, sergeant!’

In one fluid movement, the Commissar drew the bolt pistol at his side, levelled it, and fired. The squad froze in disbelief as the explosive bolt tore the sergeant’s head from his shoulders. Turning to the others, the Commissar began ‘Now…’

As he turned to face the other scouts, he was met by Simeon’s fist, heading in the opposite direction. For the second time that day, all went black.

***

Simeon stood, staring down at the unconscious Commissar, as the others gathered around.

‘What in the Emperor’s name do we do now?’ Lukas demanded.

Simeon looked up.

‘We do as Brother-sergeant Balak instructed.’ He glanced at Hezron. ‘You grab the sergeant; I’ll take this piece of filth.’ So saying, he hoisted the Commissar up onto his shoulders. Hezron did the same with the body of the sergeant, and Lukas gathered up the sergeant’s weapons, and the Commissar’s bolt pistol.

Moving back into their vee formation, the squad slowly slipped back into the forest.

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