defected； as so many Guardsmen had done during this war — and their Imperial markings had been
defaced。
The Sentinels were being used to deal death now。 They were marching amid a legion of Chaos
spawn and other mutant creatures； sweeping and gouging at the defenders of Alpha Hive with their
single metal claws。
Trooper Borscz’s Ice Warrior platoon was ranged along the edge of an empty residential sector。
So far； they had been holding the tide back； but the Sentinels’ appearance threatened to change that。
It had fallen to Borscz’s squad to deal with that threat。 His sergeant； Romanov； was bellowing
orders； instructing his nine troopers to aim their fire at the leftmost of the two leviathans。 Borscz’s
first beams went hopelessly wide； and he cursed the unreliable sights of his lasgun under his breath。
Many of his comrades struck true； but their las…beams seemed to do little damage； at least to begin
with。
At last； their sustained barrage began to bear fruit； and Borscz saw sparks flying from the left
knee joint of the bipedal machine。 Without needing to be told； the Ice Warriors refocused their fire
on that spot — and a long； agonising minute later； the Sentinel collapsed； and flattened a number of
luckless spawn beneath its mass。
It had taken too long。
Sergeant Romanov shouted again； and his squad turned its fire on the second Sentinel。 Before it
could be felled； though； the spawn would be upon them。
Borscz weighed up his options； and then lowered his gun。 He caught Romanov’s suspicious
glare； and he shrugged his broad； muscular shoulders。
“Sorry； sergeant；” he yelled； “the machine is kaput； it jams up in the cold。 What is a trooper to
do？” Then he drew his long…bladed knife； lowered his head and took a single giant step forward to
meet the first of the charging mutants。
It cannoned into him； rebounding from his bulk； and Borscz thought he could read surprise in its
twisted face。 While it was still reeling； he seized it； kicked its legs from beneath it； and sent it
sprawling against two more mutants behind it。 Two more came up alongside him； and he dodged
their clumsy swings； and threw one of them over his shoulder into the other。
Borscz knew that the mutants were stronger than he was。 He was using their unwieldiness
against them； keeping them off…balance； but he couldn’t keep it up。
He didn’t have to。
The second Sentinel was upon him； towering over him； more than three times his height。 It had
raised its foot to stamp on him； to crush him； and the mutants were trying to hold him still； wrapping
their disgusting tentacles around him。
Borscz loosed a great roar from his powerful lungs； and hacked at the tentacles with his blade。
He slashed and tore them； ploughing forward as one great foot slammed down in the spot where he
had just been。 Then he whipped a krak grenade from his belt； and with a grim flourish； he slapped it
against the armoured stanchion of the Sentinel’s leg。
10
The mutant saw what he had done； and even their tiny minds told them to run from the
predictable explosion。 This gave Borscz the chance to run too； back towards the rest of his squad；
who were watching in astonishment and backing him up as best they could with las…fire。
A second later； there came a tremendous bang； and the shadow of the teetering Sentinel fell
across him。 Borscz twisted out of its way as it crashed to the ground； its cockpit beside him now。 He
could see his reflection in its cracked front shield； his wild black beard split by a white maniacal
grin — and behind that shield； the pilot； the cockpit’s lone occupant； his face white with terror as he
realised that his unexpected plunge had taken him right to his enemy。
He was operating his controls feverishly； employing the only weapon he still had。 The Sentinel’s
giant claw pivoted back on itself； and came snapping； grasping for the Ice Warrior。 Borscz ducked
underneath it； and drove his meaty fists through the plexiglas shield。 He grabbed the pilot by the
scruff of his tunic； tore him from his seat and drove him headfirst into the unyielding ground；
breaking his neck。
Robbed of their advantage； the mutants and spawn were being driven back once more。 His
cheeks flushed； Borscz took his place among his comrades and drew his gun。 He was alarmed to feel
a firm hand on his shoulder； and； turning； he found himself fixed by the glowering eyes of an
Imperial commissar。
For a moment； Borscz feared he was to be disciplined for disregarding orders。 He and his
sergeant had an understanding born of long service together — Romanov knew that； unconventional
though his methods were； Borscz got results — but he knew that an outside observer might see
things differently。
To his surprise； the commissar didn’t want to talk about his behaviour。 He had a message for
Borscz； although； to judge by his scowl as he delivered it； he wasn’t at all happy about it。 It was a
summons from Colonel Steele。
Trooper Anakora heard the Chaos hounds before she saw them； the scampering of their clawed feet
in the tunnels and their ravening howls as they scented fresh meat even over the underhive’s stink。
She whirled around； and saw the first of them； its twisted black bulk； in the light of the beam
from her lamp…pack as it leapt on Petrovski and tore out his throat。
There were three more behind it。 Anakora swore and abandoned the limpet mine she had been
struggling to adhere to the crumbling wall of a slum building。
Her squad of eight had been sent down here on a demolition mission。 Their commanders were
concerned that as the Imperial Guard withdrew from Cressida； there weren’t enough men left to hold
all fronts in the ongoing war。 By collapsing strategic sections of these underground levels； they
could at least close off one route to the heart of Alpha Hive； preventing the Chaos forces from
coming up beneath them。
Their enemies； it transpired； were a step ahead of them。 They had penetrated deeper into the
underhive than anyone had known。 Anakora and her comrades hadn’t planted even half their mines
yet。
One of the hounds came for her； but with remarkable precision she fired a las…beam through its
left eye and killed it。 The momentum of its pounce kept it coming； and it hit with enough force to
knock her from her feet。 She crashed to the ground with the hound’s slavering tusks in her face； and
gagged on its last gasp of rancid breath as she hauled herself out from beneath it。
She had dropped her lamp…pack； breaking it； but the tunnel was lit by the criss…crossed beams of
her surviving six comrades and the staccato flashes of their lasguns。 The latter created an eerie kind
of stop…motion effect in which Anakora saw the remaining two Chaos hounds dosing with their
chosen prey。
She shouldered her weapon again； looking for a clear shot。 When a second comrade fell； his
broken body tossed in the air to be caught in the mantrap jaws of his feral killer； she let out a
11
strangulated cry and pulled on the trigger for all she was worth； furious with herself for her wellmeaning
hesitation。
Tbers had the same thought； and the hound was struck from three angles at
once； twisting and melting in the sizzling las…beams； slumping dead at last with a Valhallan leg still
clamped in its mouth。
The third hound got past Sergeant Kubrikov’s defences。 It bore him down； and its claws pinned
his shoulders before he could stand。 Once again； Anakora couldn’t fire without endangering her
comrade； but this time she didn’t waste a second。 She leapt onto the creature’s back； and felt its
jagged spines digging into her thighs。 She turned her lasgun around and slipped it over the Chaos
hound’s head so that the barrel was resting across its throat。 She clenched her teeth and pulled for all
she was worth。 She could feel thick； knotted neck muscles resisting her； but she was determined not
to fail； not to show herself to be weak again。 At last； she felt bone snap。 The monstrous black body
sagged beneath her； and a grateful Kubrikov tore himself free from its dying grip。
In the time this had taken； Anakora’s comrades had dealt with the final hound； although two
more of them had been eviscerated in the process。 The danger was not over； however。 New shadows
were looming； growing on the tunnel walls： dark； ominous shadows。 A scant moment later； the first
of their owners came marching around the bend； and Anakora’s breath caught at the sight of them。
Clad in baroque armour and hailing from the Eye of Terror； the giant warriors exuded a palpable
air of menace and power that turned men’s blood to ice。 They raised and fired bolt pistols； and
Anakora flung herself against the wall； using the tunnel’s slight curvature to shield her body。 She
returned fire； knowing that it was hopeless。 The Ice Warriors were outgunned — outmatched not
just by a little； but ludicrously； almost laughably so。
Sergeant Kubrikov knew it too； and he was screaming at his three remaining troopers to fall
back。 There was something else too： another sound； an insistent buzz in Anakora’s earpiece。 A
voice； its tone urgent but its words drowned in a sea of static。
She didn’t have time to worry about it。 She was pinned down by the bolt pistols； but the glimmer
of an idea formed in her head； and she screamed at Kubrikov； “The mines； sergeant！ Blow the
mines！”
Kubrikov was ahead of her； already fumbling with the detonator。 The buildings to each side of
the Chaos Space Marines blew out； and a cloud of dust billowed towards Anakora。 She was already
running when it caught up to her； engulfed her。 She could hear the throaty growls of chainswords
starting up behind her； and she knew that the explosion hadn’t been enough； not nearly enough —
that their pursuers were still standing； still ploughing forwards； and that all the Ice Warriors had
gained was to slow them a fraction and to make themselves a harder target for their ranged weapons。
She almost wished that wasn’t the case。
There were just two of them left； her and Kubrikov。 Anakora reached the ladder first； glanced
back； and saw her sergeant’s eyes glazing over。 Blood poured from his mouth； and then his body
separated into two pieces along a horizontal line。 The dust parted for a second to show the dead face
of a Chaos Space Marine behind him； jerking his sword free of his victim’s remains。
Then she was climbing； hand over hand； foot over foot； expecting at any moment to feel cold
fingers closing around her ankle； dragging her back。 Bolts pinged off the ladder； and she dropped a
frag grenade to discourage another burst。 Then she could see the open manhole above her； and she
knew that she could make it。 She ought to have been relieved — because now at least her comrades
could be forewarned； that the Chaos Space Marines were about to emerge into their midst — but her
stomach sank instead； because she knew that her mission had failed。 Her squad was dead。
And the worst of it all； the hardest thing for Anakora to accept； was that she had survived…
again。
Trooper Grayle stumbled over the rubble； hacking and coughing from the smoke in his throat； his
arm gushing blood from a stray piece of shrapnel。 His eyes and ears had been deadened； but he fired
12
his lasgun blindly over his shoulder as he staggered on