Of Honour and Iron by St. Martin Ian

Author:St. Martin, Ian [St. Martin, Ian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter seventeen

The Genesis Chapter squad had ceased all vox transmissions, relying upon Adeptus Astartes battle sign to communicate as they stalked through the ­shattered walls of the city. Jovian peered around an abandoned barricade and into the streets within. Trails of smoke coiled up into the sky. The fires were still burning.

Orbaun had been, in the years after the surface of Quradim had deteriorated, the largest Imperial settlement on the planet. Nearly one million souls called it home, eking out a meagre existence scraping what little of worth they could find from the hive city ruins. Since the coming of the Iron Warriors, what had been a destitute slum had degraded into a warzone.

Gunfire crackled in the distance. An artillery shell struck nearby, jarring the rubble that was strewn across the cracked streets. Jovian’s visor alerted him to movement, a column of dark figures marching in time three streets ahead.

Contact, the Apothecary signalled calmly to the warrior on his right. Infantry. One hundred metres. No Adeptus Astartes. The Space Marine gave a curt affirmation, and passed the warning along the squad.

The Genesis Chapter squad halted, going to cover in a ragged line. Flavius looked around the chest-high mound of broken masonry he crouched behind, scanning ahead. He swung back into cover, turning to the rest of the squad behind him.

Advance. Move in twos. Observe vox silence unless enemy force increases. Restrain bolter fire against mortals. Conserve ammunition.

The Space Marines signed their understanding and readiness. Two paired off instinctually, leaving Jovian to move at a crouched run to stop next to Flavius. The sergeant gave Jovian a short nod from his battered helm of cobalt blue.

They broke from cover. Rubble crunched beneath their boots as they pounded down the street. Flavius stopped at a corner of the intersection where Jovian had seen the enemy pass. Jovian crouched behind him, signalling back to their brethren that they were clear to advance.

Jovian felt Flavius tense, hearing a sound from within the building they stood beside. Jovian heard it an instant later. Two soldiers, speaking in low voices, stepped through a doorway onto the street.

Jovian’s combat blade punched into the first soldier’s chest, parting the flak armour vest like paper. A sharp twist of the knife reduced the heart to pulped ruin. The second made to shout an alarm before the Apothecary’s hand smothered his face. Jovian tightened his fingers, feeling the man’s skull collapse in his grip and then his body hang suspended from it. Slowly, he lowered both of the dead soldiers to the ground, laying their corpses in a heap back inside the building.

The second pair of Space Marines reached their position, training their weapons down the length of the street. One turned, his hands a concise blur.

Inbound infantry. Platoon strength. Small arms. One heavy weapon. Thirty metres north-west.

The sergeant nodded, signalling to fire at ten metres, when the enemy would be most exposed and unable to find cover before they were annihilated. Jovian racked the slide of his bolter. Flavius held out a hand.

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