Desperate Measures by Games Workshop LTD

Author:Games Workshop LTD
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Publisher: Games Workshop LTD
Published: 2018-11-22T11:00:54+00:00

‘Now!’ shouted Astranicus. Ferne saw the Reiver Sergeant and his men jumping, grav-vanes flaring, to land atop the Gargant’s shoulders amid a fusillade of Ork gunfire. A moment later they were in amongst the greenskins, knives flashing. Then they were out of sight.

Ferne hit the klaxon override and whispered a prayer to the aircraft’s machine spirit as the Skychild curved around once more. Bullets thundered past the cockpit, their trajectory all but vertical. He felt several of them punch into the wing, and grimaced. Valkyries were built to last, but with this level of punishment they would not ride out another minute.

‘I said report!’

‘They mag-locked their grapnel to the fuselage and tied us to the infernal machine!’ shouted Godfred. ‘I can’t get it free!’

‘Just shoot it or something!’

The Valkyrie roared around once more, wrapping the thick cable around the Gargant’s head. It dragged and crunched across the thing’s head, ripping out a complex eye-gun jutting from its right socket in a spray of sparks. Ferne saw the Reivers planting something on the head and shoulders of the effigy – explosives, no doubt – and then leap for the cable, grabbing it one after another as Astranicus kicked the grapnel’s barbed head free.

The Skychild jerked away with a scream of engines, the grapnel cable trailing behind it. Judging by the additional weight Ferne could feel in the steering column, all five Reivers were in tow. He heard a thunderous detonation in the middle distance, and a roar of dismay from the Orks they were leaving in their wake.

‘I’ll be burned,’ said Godfred. ‘They did it. Reckon they will all be able to hang on ’til we get clear?’

Ferne shook his head, gunning the engine as he blasted over the milling Ork rearguard below. Desultory fire reached them, but it did little more than ping from the Skychild’s armoured fuselage. The greenskins always put their heaviest guns to the fore, and when the war lust was upon them, they had little time for targeting anything that wasn’t right in front of them. There was a chance that the Valkyrie would make it intact to Oteck, the hivesprawl’s pollution-spouting towers glimmering on the horizon.

‘They are Space Marines,’ said Ferne eventually, his tone somewhere between grudging admiration and raw bitterness. ‘They do as they damn well please.’

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