Warhammer 40K - [Blood Angels 04] - Black Tide by James Swallow (Undead) (v1.0) by me

Author:me
Format: epub

88

Eigen felt the change in aspect immediately as the current washed over him. “The ship… We’re

changing course.”

He heard Ajir call out on the general vox channel. “Turcio, respond. What’s going on in there? Turcio? Gast?”

Over the open comm, the Astartes caught the clatter of steel on steel and the faint sound of sirens.

“We can’t go back,” Rafen’s voice cut through everything. “Trust your battle-brothers to keep the ship secure. We have our target. We cannot tarry!” The Flesh Tearer looked up the line of the hull and found the silhouette of the Blood Angel sergeant beckoning him forward. The blazing arc of his power sword left a sparkling pennant of froth trailing from the blade.

“Move!” snapped Puluo, underscoring his commander’s orders. Eigen gritted his teeth and did as he was told to. Each footstep was difficult, and he felt his muscles tensing against it. He had trained to fight in many conditions, sparring in the swamps of Cretacia with weights tied to his legs, engaging in close combat in spaces without air or gravity. This was no different. He remembered the words of Amit, first Master of his Chapter, drilled into him as an initiate; There is no battlefield that can defy us. We are masters of all wars. The maxim gave him focus and he pushed on.

Fighting on the hull, in the dense grip of the ocean, was like nothing he had ever done, however. Strange echoes of subsonic sound caught in the hard current of the waters came to him, and it was difficult to draw a bead. They were closing in on the main mass of the kraken now, and the large tentacle arms still lashed back and forth over their heads, beating at the hull of the Neimos. He could see the humped body of the tyranid monster, lit in split-second flashes as Rafen fired boiling bolts of plasma at the creature, and Puluo tossed hull-breakers into the fast-moving tide, letting the ocean carry the explosives into the beast. What he had thought were deeper threads of polluted murk were actually slicks of alien blood trailing away from burn wounds in the kraken’s thick-armoured flanks.

Smaller limbs reached from the creature’s torso, and these were more akin to great bone talons. They sliced through the waters leaving lines of shimmering photoplankton in their wakes. The crashing echo of gunfire resonated towards him, and from the corner of his visor he saw Puluo firing a burst of heavy bolts into a questing serpent-limb that flicked up behind them. The warrior’s shots were true—he was getting the range now, as were they all—and the limb blew apart in a sphere of concussion.

“How do we kill this freak?” Ajir was saying, breathing hard. “We get closer,” Rafen told him, the fury of battle thick in the other man’s words. “Blind it, choke it, shoot it until it dies, whatever we must! Our mission will not end because of this xenos abortion!”

Eigen nodded. “Aye!” He took heavy steps forward, his boots ringing on the hull, leading with his bolter.

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