Chapter 47: With a Legend
"Terra…?" Kurande was momentarily at a loss.
Terra? What Terra? Which Terra?
The surgical enhancements of the Astartes granted a Space Marine sharper cognition than any mortal could hope for — but even that augmented mind couldn't immediately parse what the other man was driving at.
How was Terra faring? What did that even mean? In the mere three days since the Ork invasion had begun, had the greenskins somehow already reached Terra?
Kurande was still turning Lin's words over in his mind when Lin gave him no time to think. Seeing that Kurande couldn't answer, Lin's brow furrowed, and he pressed harder:
"Which Terra do you think I mean? Terra besieged by the traitor Horus, obviously! Don't tell me you don't know the situation on Terra either?"
Kurande froze.
Those words detonated like a thunderclap somewhere deep in his chest. And it wasn't only him — even amid the heat of battle, every surviving Imperial Fist in the vicinity turned to look.
They stared at Lin in disbelief, their shock so consuming that none of them even noticed the equally stunned expressions on Admir's face and those beside him.
"You…" Kurande opened his mouth to speak, then caught himself — his instinctive word choice hadn't carried nearly enough respect. "You are…?"
"I am Lin, Magos Biologis of Forge World Huangquan VIII."
Lin produced his Mechanicus-certified Magos insignia. Any Mechanicus scanner could read the badge and display the exact date on which Lin had attained the rank of Magos — though there was obviously no time for Kurande to verify it now.
"Our company was dispatched under the orders of Castellan Evander Garrius to break out from the encirclement of the Sons of Horus and deliver intelligence gathered on Cthonia directly into the hands of Lord Rogal Dorn. This intelligence must be placed in Lord Dorn's hands personally."
"So tell me — how does Terra stand? Are you still able to make contact with Lord Dorn?"
Both of Kurande's hearts hammered violently. Even as a Space Marine, he found his breath coming with some difficulty.
As captain of the Second Company of the Imperial Fists, Kurande was privy to certain secrets kept from ordinary battle-brothers.
Every Imperial Fist knew of their Primarch Rogal Dorn's magnificent stand during the Siege of Terra — but very few knew that the Imperial Fists' responsibilities during that period extended far beyond simple defence.
In truth, Dorn had dispatched a force of roughly thirty thousand Imperial Fists on an expedition to Cthonia before the traitor fleet had even reached the Sol System.
This force, led by Castellan Evander Garrius, had been tasked with destroying Cthonia — the homeworld of the Sons of Horus — and severing that planet's connection to the greater betrayal.
Cthonia had ultimately been destroyed, but those thirty thousand Imperial Fists had largely vanished without a trace.
And yet what was Kurande looking at now?
A company claiming to be Imperial Fists from the era of the Siege of Terra had appeared before him — and they were, without question, warriors who had walked out of that very campaign on Cthonia.
The MK II Crusade-pattern power armour they wore, and the company banner he hadn't been able to identify — the reasons were now blindingly obvious. Because they were not Imperial Fists of this age at all. To the Imperial Fists of the present day, they were living legends.
When the Imperial Fists of the present teetered on the edge of annihilation, a band of legendary warriors from the age of the Great Betrayal had come to pull them back from the brink…
And he had actually been doubting their identities. Doubting these legends of the Imperial Fists.
Guilt-ridden, Kurande found himself in no state to appreciate the grandeur of the moment. The shame of his earlier suspicion nearly crushed him from the inside.
Lin noticed something was off with Kurande and shot Admir a meaningful glance, signalling him to go and settle the man down. Admir's cheek twitched, but he put his helmet back on first, then opened a private vox-channel to register his complaint:
"This was not in the plan!"
"Plans never survive contact with reality." Lin rendered his reply in binaric cant directly into Admir's visor, his tone soothing. "We're this deep in — might as well commit to the performance."
"I don't even know what I'm supposed to do!"
"Don't worry. Just follow my lead."
Admir swallowed the expression threatening to break across his face beneath his helmet and forced himself to walk up to Kurande. He extended a hand.
"Keep fighting, brother. Whatever the situation on Terra, at least we have to get clear of these xenos' clutches first."
Kurande looked at Admir. That power armour — so heavily modified it bristled with fanged protrusions — had been the single thing that had made Kurande most suspicious. But now, in his eyes, that 'heretical' appearance stood only as testament to this warrior's glory.
Faced with the legendary warrior's open invitation, and reminded that there was indeed a battle still to be fought, Kurande swept away his earlier despondency. He raised his Power Sword high and bellowed:
"Sons of Dorn, press on! The Imperial Fists will not be broken by these greenskin xenos!"
"For at this moment, we fight shoulder to shoulder with legends!"
His words gave every surviving Imperial Fist exactly the answer they had been looking for. They surged with renewed fire — even the brothers felled and gravely wounded by the greenskin warboss dragged themselves upright and threw themselves at the Orks with everything they had left. The blazing momentum briefly overwhelmed even the WAAAGH-fuelled frenzy of the greenskins.
Judging that the moment had come, Lin raised his hand and fired a signal flare. The Hunter, reading the signal, descended slowly to extract Lin's group.
The ship's design prevented it from hovering within the atmosphere for long, so — exactly as Lin had arranged beforehand — Tom and a handful of other Felynes sprang nimbly from the cargo bay.
Carrying crates in their arms, they deployed psionic shields and, aided by parachutes, touched down precisely at Lin's side.
The Imperial Fists, fresh from fighting non-humanoid creatures, were understandably on edge around the Felynes — but Lin moved quickly to put them at ease.
"These are indigenous creatures we modified on Cthonia. Manpower was scarce there, so we had these augmented creatures take on our logistics duties. Their role is roughly equivalent to the Void-Hounds kept by Navigator Houses."
Lin pried open the crates the Felynes had brought. Inside were single-person jet packs he had fabricated from salvaged plasma engine components after stripping the engines down. "Put these on now. We fly up to the ship!"
Admir and Kurande led the force into a tighter formation, and warriors cycled through one by one to strap on their jet packs. Full re-equipment was completed in short order. The Felynes took advantage of the lull to deploy large demolition charges around the defensive perimeter.
The instant the Space Marines launched themselves skyward, they detonated the charges. The blast wave drove back the Orks surging forward, and the billowing smoke screened the Space Marines and Felynes from view — letting every last one of them slip away cleanly.
The extraction was a clean success. With the full complement aboard, the Hunter wasted no more time. The Comet Dragon-class engines roared to full power, and the ship was carried into low orbit beyond the exosphere in short order — leaving the greenskins, who had not yet developed any capacity for space travel, to stare uselessly at the sky.
But Ork warfare never truly stops. Not nearly satisfied with the killing on offer, they turned red-eyed on one another. At some signal from an unknown greenskin, the hunt for the Space Marines dissolved almost instantly into a full-blown greenskin civil war.
But all of that was no longer Lin's concern.
At least… not for now.
____
________________________________________
If you want more chapters, please consider supporting my page on (P). with 50 advanced chapters available on (P)
👻 Join the crew by searching Leanzin on (P). You know the spot! 😉