[Imperial Guard 04] - Desert Raiders by Lucien Soulban

Author:Lucien Soulban
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-06-08T11:25:04+00:00

Sergeant Iath was losing Mohar’s rune among the throng of tyranid returns on the auspex. It was growing increasingly difficult to read the battlefield signals; the fight was one large, frantic skirmish in the thickening dust storm. Particles of energised sand were generating a static charge large enough to disrupt auspex and vox with ghost images and noise bursts. Screeches, howls and the thunder of autocannon fire or the crackling whip of las-fire saturated the air, as did the muted hiss of tyranid bio-weapons.

Mohar screamed over the micro-bead before his transmission cut. A moment later, the dust storm lit up with a long gout of fire from a heavy promethium flamer. Iath headed in that direction, firing a fusillade of shots from the rotating barrel of his multi-laser into the tyranids that crossed his path. The razor beams of light shredded and cauterised any beast they caught, leaving behind smouldering, dismembered husks. Mohar’s flaming Sentinel abruptly ran into view, the charred remains of Mohar slumped forward on the steering leavers, carbon-cooked tyranids fused against the hull like a thick coat.

Iath watched the burning Sentinel vanish into the storm, and headed deeper into the fray, trying to locate others. He arrived in time to see an energised plasma shot splatter against another Sentinel. The plasma salted the pilot and bored holes into his chest, before the superheated material ate through the promethium tanks. The fiery explosion devoured Sentinel and tyranid alike, while the concussion wave toppled Iath’s Sentinel. Iath screamed, the blistering heat and flame of the explosion flash-searing his exposed flesh and melting cloth to skin. It instantly fused his rubber-rimmed occulars to his face.

The agony overrode reason, and Iath fumbled for the cockpit’s med-kit. It didn’t matter that he was surrounded by tyranids; it only mattered that he reach the pain killers, that he numb the excruciating agony that lanced him. His nerves felt devoured by flame and his skin screamed its anguish into his brain. It killed him to move, his clothing melted into his flesh; every little movement pulled at the doth, tore open a fresh wound and exposed him to some new profound torture.

Iath couldn’t grab the med-kit, his gnarled hands burned into fleshy knots. He cried in agony, until he saw centipede tyranids snaking towards him, their thorny feelers twitching in anticipation, their hundred legs moving like waves underneath their bodies, their mandibles clacking. Iath watched them approach and screamed at them to kill him.

He never thought the tyranids would be his measure of mercy.

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