the dark gods themselves none could say； but their daemonic visages shone with the very power of Chaos； as though a fragment of
that raw energy might be contained within their hellish features。
The ground shook with thunderous vibration as the feet of these glorious machines slammed down like the tread of an angry god。
The glistening cable…tentacles； slipped free of their charges； coiled back into the belly of their host and vanished from sight as the
next two Battle Titans were readied for landing。
Forrix watched as the two Titans stood motionless on the landing field； their power and majesty palpable even in their stillness。 A
sinuous tail； bearing a spiked wrecking ball larger than the greatest super heavy tank； twitched at the back of the largest Titan and
a massive cheer burst from the assembled warriors。
A powerful whine burst suddenly from the Titans as the mighty weapon…arms began to move； a fierce and monstrous anime
enlivening each of the war machines with vigour。 The first war machine； once an Emperor…class Titan in the service of the corpsegod；
now known and feared as the Dies Irae； took a ponderous step forward； its mighty foot crashing down on the ground with
teeth…loosening force； its daemonic princeps eager to plunge into battle lest his monstrous war machine turn its fury upon its allies。
Its companion in death； the Pater Mortis； raised its guns to the heavens； as though saluting the gods for delivering it to war once
more and roared its battle lust across the world。 Smaller than the Dies Irae； it followed its massive sibling like a devoted acolyte。
Forrix allowed himself a tight smile as he watched the two mighty engines of destruction stride from the spaceport towards the
mountains。 Tanks and infantry swarmed around their legs。 Those who had fought alongside these lethal machines before kept a
sensible distance from them while those unused to seeing the power of their masters so physically manifested clustered around to
pay homage。 Many of their foolish human soldiers paid the price for their unwise devotion； as whole swathes of men were crashed
underfoot with each step of the gigantic machines。
Two more Titans were even now descending to the planet's surface and there would be many more before this day's operation was
complete。 Forrix had much yet to do； but was content that everything was proceeding on schedule。
Within another two hours there would be an army of conquest ready to take this world apart in a storm of iron。
FOUR
LARANA UTORIAN FOUGHT to keep the pain of her ruined arm at bay just a little longer。 Even if she lived through this nightmare；
which she acknowledged was unlikely； she knew she would lose it。 The giant who had brought them here had seen to that；
crashing every bone and ripping every tendon in her arm。 Each step sent bolts of pain shooting through her and it took a supreme
effort of will not to drop to her knees and just give up。
She had seen what happened to those who had done that； and had no wish to end her days as a screaming； eyeless wreck； nailed to
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the chassis of a traitor's tank。 She would face death on her feet like a true soldier of the Emperor。
Painfully； she shuffled uphill； keeping her eyes focussed on the neck of the man in front； concentrating on putting one foot before
the other。 She glanced up as he suddenly stopped and felt a hot； roiling sensation of fear work its way through her gut as she saw
the formidable； rocky slopes of Tor Christo before her。 The grey bastions on the rocks above were over a kilometre away； but
Utorian fancied she could make out the faces of the gunners and soldiers on the firing steps。 What must they be thinking； she
wondered？ Were they afraid； or were they full of bravado； confident that nothing could breach their high walls？ Larana hoped
they were afraid。
Their column began moving forwards as smoke…belching trucks roared alongside them。 The tracks skidded to a halt at the head of
the columns and sudden hope flared in Larana's heart as she saw men in crimson overalls with crude eight…pointed stars stitched
over their left breast on the back of the tracks handing battered； but serviceable looking rifles to the startled prisoners。 If these
traitorous curs thought that the men and women of the Jouran Dragoons would fight for them； then they were even more deluded
than she had thought。 As soon as she was given a weapon； she would turn it on their captors and damn the consequences。
But any hope of a swift death in a glorious last stand were dashed as Larana took hold of one of the rifles and discovered it was
nothing more than a hollow framework； the internal workings missing。 She felt tears of frustration well up inside； but suppressed
them viciously。 Hands pulled at her； dragging her and the others forward and lifting them onto the backs of the trucks。 Too numb
to resist； she allowed herself to be packed into the vehicle； biting her lip to avoid screaming as more and more prisoners were
pressed inside the truck。 The stench of fear was overpowering。 Soldiers vomited and soiled themselves in terror as their reserves
of courage finally reached their limit。
Larana； pressed at the side of the truck； caught only glimpses of what was happening outside。 The revving of engines built to a
deafening crescendo and she could see hundreds of trucks； all as crammed as this one； lined at the edge of the plateau。
Interspersed between the trucks； Larana could see boxy； armoured personnel carriers； similar to the ones she had seen Space
Marines using。 She knew they were called Rhinos； but these bore little resemblance to the noble vehicles she had seen members of
the Adeptus Astartes employ。 Their armoured sides had a disgusting； oily texture； as though somehow alive； their every surface
festooned with spikes； chains and skulls。 The roar of their exhausts was like the bellowing of some impatient predator； and each
bucked madly； as though chafing at the delay enforced upon them。
Larana bit her lip hard enough to draw blood as the truck lurched forward； its wheels churning the dusty ground as its wheels
fought for purchase。 Her vision spun crazily and she gripped the stock of her useless lasgun trying not to imagine the next horror
that awaited her。
GUNNER FIRST CLASS Dervlan Chu watched the approaching line of vehicles through the gunsight of his Basilisk artillery piece
mounted behind the walls of Tor Christo's Kane bastion with undisguised relish。 The image was grainy and static interference
washed through the sight； but its beauty was unmistakable。 It was an artilleryman's dream。 He tried to get a count on the number
of targets approaching the fortress； dividing the approaching line in two and then halving it again。 He made out roughly three
hundred trucks； no doubt laden with traitorous scum eager to dash themselves against the bulwark of Tor Christo； and perhaps two
dozen APCs。
These fools hadn't even bothered to commence their attack with an artillery barrage or under cover of smoke。 If this was the
calibre of their opposition； then the warnings of their company commanders had been largely unnecessary。 They would send these
incompetent idiots home in pieces。
Chu already had his zones of fire mapped out； he knew the precise ranges of his gun； and his loading team already had one of the
metre…long shells loaded in the breech of the massive artillery piece。 He allowed himself a quick glance along the line of emplaced
artillery； pleased to note that every other gun appeared to be locked and loaded。 Jephen； the commander of the next Basilisk in
line； gave him a smiling thumbs…up。
Chu laughed and shouted； 'Good hunting； Mr Jephen！ A bottle of amasec says I tally more than you and your boys！'
Jephen sketched a casual salute and replied； 'I'll take that wager； Mr Chu。 Nothing tastes as fine as amasec another man has paid
for。'
'A fact I shall no doubt rejoice in later； Mr Jephen。'
Chu returned to his gunsight as the line of vehicles rumbled closer； the roar of their engines little more than a distant growl from
his elevated position。 Smoke and dust billowed behind the attacking vehicles and soon they would be in range。
Chu swivelled on his gun…chair to watch the senior officers of the Christo； together with the omnipresent priests of the Machine
God； gathered far behind the guns； consulting an attack logister that was no doubt wired into the gunsights of their artillery pieces。
A liveried aide passed round crystal glasses of amasec to the senior officers from a silver tray as another handed out ear
protectors。 The officers laughed at some private joke and toasted the success of the venture； downing their drinks in a single gulp。
The officers removed their peaked caps and donned their ear protectors。 One officer； who Chu recognised as Major Tedeski；
stepped towards the guns and raised a portable vox to his mouth。
The oil…stained speaker beside Chu hissed and Tedeski's harsh； clipped tones announced； 'My compliments to you； gentlemen； you
may fire when ready。'
Chu smiled and returned to his gunsight； watching the range counter unwind as the enemy approached。
HONSOU DUCKED INSIDE the crew compartment of his Rhino and spun the locking wheel of the hatch behind him。 There was little
point in manning the bolters now； and he would only expose himself to unnecessary risk by riding with the hatch open。
He returned to his commander's seat as the Rhino bucked over the undulating ground； the driver easing back on its speed and
allowing the trucks carrying the prisoners to take the lead。 There were sure to be minefields before the hill fort； and it was the
tracks' job to find them first。
The warriors accompanying him chanted a monotonous dirge … a prayer to the Dark Gods； memorised and unchanged these last
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ten millennia。 Honsou closed his eyes and allowed it to wash over him； his lips moving in time with the words。 He clutched his
bolter tight； though he knew that it was not yet time to sate its battle hunger with the blood of traitors。 The only deaths likely this
day were those of worthless prisoners； men who deserved to die anyway for their stubborn refusal to follow the only true path that
could save mankind from the multifarious horrors of this universe。
Where else but in Chaos could humanity find the strength to resist the implacable advance of the tyranids； the barbarity of the orks
or the nascent peril of the ancient star…gods that were even now awakening from their aeons…long slumbers？ Only Chaos had the
power to unite a fragmented race and defeat that which sought to destroy it。 The soldiers of the corpse…god only speeded the
ruination of that which they purported to defend by resisting Chaos。
Well； the great work they undertook here would bring the ultimate victory of Chaos one step closer； and the Warsmith would
surely reward all those who aided in his victory with the patronage of the gods。 Such a prize was worth any price and Honsou
knew he would risk anything to win such reward。
The roar of the Rhino's engine deepened； startling Honsou from his reverie and he knew that the time had come to implement the
next stage of the attack。
THE TRUCK BOUNCED over the uneven ground and Larana Utorian felt her legs sag as pain washed