Chapter 16: Pre-Battle Declaration
The fragments of the servo-skull lay scattered across the floor, its mechanical tendrils still twitching faintly. Colonel Fox looked at the broken components, then at Duvette, and an unreadable expression crossed his face.
"You didn't need to do that," Fox said.
"I did." Duvette slid the bolt pistol back into its holster. "The servo-skull records everything. If there's an inquiry afterward, your violation of orders would be undeniable."
Fox was quiet for a moment. Then he nodded. "Thank you."
Two hours later, the other officers had gone to muster their companies. The room held only the two of them, and the faint, labored breathing of the recon soldier in the corner who had been pulled back from the edge of death by emergency treatment.
Fox moved to the data-slate and drew his fingers across the screen. The geothermal core schematic reappeared, overlaid with the underground tunnel map.
"Let's confirm the tactical plan one more time." Fox's voice was steady, but Duvette could hear the tension held underneath it.
He indicated the shadow zone marked on the display.
"Except for the First Company's remaining hundred and thirteen soldiers, who will hold the surface defensive line, the other two thousand one hundred and forty-three soldiers will descend in stages." Fox's finger traced several of the main tunnel passages. "The underground space is too narrow to commit all our forces at once. Each company will enter from a different point, converge through the interconnected passages, and then assault the shadow zone from multiple directions simultaneously. That is the area closest to the core."
Duvette studied the map. The passages spread like a spider's web, all of them ultimately converging on the shadow near the core. The tactic would produce overlapping fields of fire even in a confined space, but it also meant coordination between separated units would be extremely difficult.
"On the heavy weapons side," Fox continued, "we have four autocannons, thirteen shoulder-mounted rocket launchers, and two meltaguns remaining. Not many. The rest were destroyed during the siege. Everything else is lasguns and solid-shot weapons, but ammunition is fully stocked."
He paused.
"The enemy is probably in a similar position. Heavy vehicles cannot operate down there. Large artillery cannot be deployed in those passages. The weapon types available to both sides will be much the same."
Duvette nodded. The height and width of the underground passages constrained equipment choices and numbers. That cut both ways. The enemy faced the same restrictions.
"The Ash Watchers are suited to this kind of environment," Fox said. "We are light infantry. We have fought in urban terrain and tunnel networks before. Against cultists alone, I am confident."
His finger stopped on the shadow zone.
"What concerns me is the Chaos Astartes."
Silence held the room for several seconds. Only the wind and snow against the window, and the faint breathing from the stretcher in the corner. As soon as the muster was complete, someone would come and take the soldier back to the medicae.
"What did the recon soldier say before he lost consciousness?" Duvette asked.
Fox walked to the stretcher and crouched beside it, resting a hand gently on the bandaged shoulder of the man lying there.
"He said he saw crimson power armour. More than one suit."
Duvette felt his heart drop.
"Specific numbers?"
"He went under before he could clarify." Fox stood. "Could be two. Could be three. Could be more."
Duvette walked to the stretcher and looked at the unconscious face beneath its layers of wrapping, and fell into thought. Three Chaos Astartes was enough to constitute a Chaos Warband, but then Abaddon the Despoiler was also a Chaos Warband all by himself. In an environment like the one below, if the Chaos Astartes present numbered more than five, their situation would be extremely dangerous. More than ten, their odds approached nothing. More than fifteen...Duvette did not let himself finish the calculation.
But they had no choice.
"We just have to fight," Duvette said. His voice came out with a calm that surprised even him.
Fox looked at him and nodded.
"I am placing the Third, Seventh, Eighth, and Thirteenth Companies under your command, along with what remains of the Sixth." Fox's voice was direct. "Five hundred and twenty-one soldiers. You will advance through the largest tunnel. That is the main assault axis."
Duvette went still.
"Me?"
"You took a handful of survivors and killed a Chaos Astartes." Fox came to stand before him, eyes fixed and steady. "The soldiers need that kind of example. They need to believe the monsters can be killed."
Duvette wanted to say it had been luck. He wanted to say it was Anderson and Stroud who had bought the opening with their bodies. He wanted to say that without that melta bomb, every one of them would have died in that chamber.
He said none of it.
Fox did not need to hear it. The soldiers did not need to hear it either.
What they needed was someone who could lead them toward a victory. Or at least, someone who could make the fact of dying in the dark a little less terrifying.
Despite the reluctance and the bleak assessment he was carrying in his chest, Duvette put on a steady smile.
"I'll do my best," he said.
Fox clapped him on the shoulder with considerable force.
"Come on. Time to move."
When they walked out of the command post, the open ground outside was already filled with soldiers.
Heavy snow tore through the wind in ragged curtains, each flake hitting the face like a small cold blade. More than two thousand Ash Watchers stood in formation across the snowfield, grey greatcoats already accumulating a layer of white. Their breath rose in pale clouds above the ranks.
Duvette and Colonel Fox came to a stop at the front of the formation. Fox called out across the wind: "Attention. Stand easy." Then he turned and looked at Duvette.
With the soft metallic sounds of weapons and equipment shifting, the soldiers' eyes moved to the commissar standing before them.
Duvette understood what the look meant. A pre-battle address. Morale before the descent. That was the commissar's work.
He exhaled quietly to himself.
He walked forward, his boots pressing into the snow with a crunch at each step, the sound carrying as the soldiers' gaze tracked with his movement.
He came to the front of the formation and turned to face them all.
Snow drove against his face. He narrowed his eyes and drew a long, cold breath.
"Soldiers!"
His voice carried through the wind and snow, not especially loud, but clear enough to reach the back ranks.
"In a moment, we go underground. We are going to fight through those heretic bastards and take back millions of lives from their hands."
"I am not going to lie to you. I will not promise that all of you will come back alive. We all know what is down there: skulls stacked to the ceiling, desecrated rituals, and monsters in red power armour."
A murmur moved through the ranks, then died.
"But I can promise you one thing." Duvette raised his voice. "I will be at the front. My bolt pistol holds ten rounds, and I will personally put every one of them through the throats of those heretics."
He drew the bolt pistol and raised it high. The black weapon caught the grey light in a clean, hard gleam.
"We are not fighting for some noble today. We are not fighting for some governor. We are standing here for the millions of civilians inside Heras. They may never know our names. But they will live because of what we do today."
Duvette held the pause. Snow screamed past him on the wind.
"For the Emperor!"
The eleven remaining soldiers of 6th Company were the first to respond, driving the words out of raw, hoarse throats into the wind and snow.
"For the Emperor!"
Then the Third. The Seventh. The Eighth. The Thirteenth. The sound built like a rolling tide, growing with each voice that joined, until more than two thousand voices combined into a roar that pushed back against the howling snow.
"For the Emperor! For the Emperor! For the Emperor!"
Standing inside that wave of sound, Duvette noticed the status display shift in the corner of his vision.
[Current Command: Ash Watchers, 101st Regiment, 3rd, 6th, 7th, 8th, 13th Companies]
[Total Strength: 521] [Experience: Veteran]
[Overall Supply: 100%] [Overall Loyalty: 68%] [Overall Morale: 72%] [Overall Stability: 80%] [Chaos Corruption: 10%]
[Active Passive Bonuses: Steel Ring (Beginner), Forced March (Beginner), Indomitable]
Five hundred and twenty-one soldiers.
He closed his eyes. Drew one long breath.
Golden boys, he thought, if you can actually hear any of this, take one look over here. Do not let me die in this forsaken place.
He opened his eyes. His bolt pistol pointed toward the tunnel entrance.
"Move out."