Bones of the Martyr by Tom Horth

Author:Tom Horth
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Library
Published: 2022-08-17T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE ASCENT

The Basilica of Saint Marcius, or what remained of it at least, rose out of the northern edge of the city, the most elevated section of the metropolis. Though the Imperial forces’ landing had been haphazard, and their forces scattered, the majority of the Order of Our Martyred Lady’s warriors had made planetfall in the southern and western regions of the city’s surface. The initial drive towards Alectia’s spires and the basilica beyond had met with some success, only for the necron resistance to steadily increase as their commanders took the field. Imperial forces remained splintered across a wide front, bogged down in a ceaseless struggle to breach the seemingly never-ending ranks of necron warriors and Immortals that lay before them.

Martyna’s armoured column had found themselves stranded to the east. Forced to fight their way through narrow streets and hab-blocks and across exposed ridges, they had been easy pickings for the Doom Scythes that patrolled Alectia’s skies. The constant screaming whine of the necron vessels wore at the nerves, and the Sisters’ joyous psalms had died down to a whisper. The necrons needed no rest and fought incessantly. The Sisters, whilst hardened veterans of countless battles, were still human, and required rest to operate at their finest. Rest that they had been denied.

Finally, after several hours of grinding progress, and leaving the burned-out hulks of a dozen Castigator tanks and Rhino transports in their wake, the armoured column ground its way over the lip of the sloped sides of the subterranean hive-city and onto its spire-covered surface. Martyna and her squad had exited their transport during the ascent to scour the root for mines, explosives and other traps. As the tanks rolled onto flat ground, they fell back behind the vehicles once more, using their roaring bulk for cover.

All around them, the battle for Alectia raged. Insect-like robots dug their way out of the gloom of the hive’s lower levels to fall upon the Sisters, their metallic jaws stripping armour and flesh from their unsuspecting victims, and atop the ridge ahead, silver shapes moved into position, their guns levelled towards Martyna and her squad. Fatigue coursed through Martyna’s body. Without the strength afforded to her by her power armour, she would have long since collapsed. The fire had barely stopped since the landing, a continual barrage of hissing, whining green beams of gauss-energy striking down from above.

Martyna’s Rhino transport, Axia, rumbled forward, providing the Sisters with cover as it advanced implacably, crushing necrons and wounded Imperial soldiers beneath its tracks. There could be no regard for the injured. This was no time for mercy. From her place in the gunner’s hatch, Sister Gabriella continued to unload a stream of storm bolter fire into the necrons atop the slope, dropping several with each burst of explosive rounds. The Order of Our Martyred Lady’s Castigator tanks spread out across the ridge. Adorned with the holy icons of both the Adepta Sororitas and the order to which they belonged, these tanks

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