defensive position. Subsequently, they launched concentrated attacks on the outposts farthest from
our supply depots. Since then, they’ve pushed through our defensive line and converged on the city
centre from several breaches. This side of the river is a warzone. Optimistic estimates have total ork
domination of Grazzen’s east bank in less than two hours from now.”
“And the pessimistic estimate?”
101
“A pessimist would tell you it’s already too late, captain.”
“Which are you?” asked Commissar Karif.
Chelnikov shrugged. “So long as the Emperor sits on the Golden Throne of Terra and cares
about the men who serve Him, I’d say there’s always hope. Wouldn’t you? But the Thirty-fifth is
hanging on by a thread.” He turned to Sebastev and added, “The sooner you get that prisoner of
yours across the bridge, the sooner my men can destroy the damned thing. Let’s be on our way at
once, captain. What’s the status of your vehicles?”
“We lost one of our heavy transports, but we’ve another and three Chimeras intact.”
“It’ll be cramped,” said Chelnikov. “Some of my men will have to squeeze into your Pathcutter,
but it’s not far from here to Grazzen. We need to leave now.”
“As you say.”
Sebastev raised a finger to his vox-bead and transmitted orders to his platoon leaders. “Get
everyone back into the vehicles at once. I want the wounded on the Pathcutter. Bring their weapons.
Leave nothing here that we might use when we hit the ork lines at Grazzen.”
As the affirmations of his officers came back to him, Sebastev turned in the direction of the
trees. Colonel Kabanov stood with his back to a black trunk, coughing into a handkerchief.
Lieutenant Maro stood close by, still covering the rebel prisoner, but looking at his colonel with
obvious concern.
Just a little longer, colonel, thought Sebastev. Hang on until we reach Seddisvarr, damn it. The
medicae will fix you up.
102
CHAPTER TWELVE
Day 688
Valles Carcavia — 10:21hrs, -22°C
As Fifth Company descended the north side of the Varanesian Peaks, Sebastev could feel
powerful winds hammering against the side of Colonel Kabanov’s Chimera. The mountains that
rose up on either side of the Valles Carcavia channelled strong weather-fronts from the east,
punishing the length of the valley with heavy snow, battering the city of Grazzen with storms.
Colonel Kabanov sat under two blankets, coughing wetly into another handkerchief. Lieutenant
Maro seemed to have brought an endless supply of them from Korris.
Captain Chelnikov fumbled in his greatcoat pockets for something. After a moment, he smiled
with relief and pulled out a sheaf of papers. “Here they are: tactical maps of Grazzen. The situation
may have radically changed in the few hours since I left, but these should give you some idea of
where things stand.”
The men in the Chimera leaned forward in their seats, eyes on the maps that Chelnikov spread
out on the floor of the vehicle.
Much like Nhalich, Grazzen was split in two, straddling the broad, black waters of the Solenne.
Unlike Nhalich, however, Grazzen was a major city that had once been home to over two million
Danikkin people. Two great bridges spanned the river, linking the eastern nation of Varanes with
Theqis in the west.
Sebastev was looking at the southernmost of the two bridges, thinking it would be their quickest
way through, when Chelnikov said, I’m afraid the south bridge was destroyed early this morning.
The orks pushed up from the south-east edge of the city. Major Ushenko ordered the bridge blown
before the orks gained access to the west bank.”
“Leaving only the north bridge intact,” said Colonel Kabanov as he wiped his mouth and
returned the handkerchief to his pocket. “From your map, captain, it looks like we’ve quite a
distance to go once we hit the edge of the city.”
Chelnikov nodded. “True, sir, but once we’re back behind our own defensive lines your vehicles
can ride the highway straight up the riverbank to the bridge. It hasn’t been mined yet. We still need
the highway to move our armour.”
“How much armour?” asked Sebastev.
“The Thirty-fifth has twelve tank platoons guarding all the main roads towards the bridge.
General Vlastan sent out five further tank platoons to support us. They arrived last night. I wish I
could believe the general would have offered that support in any case, but I’d say that decision had
everything to do with ensuring the delivery of your package, captain.” As he said this, Chelnikov
nodded towards the bound form of Patriot-Captain Gusseff. Once again, the man had been tied
tightly in his seat.
“I don’t know what’s so important about that bastard, sir,” said Chelnikov, “but Twelfth Army
Command is going to great lengths to get him. It’s not like General Vlastan to send armour
detachments out from his precious defensive regiments at Seddisvarr. I can’t tell you what it did for
morale when our men saw all those Leman Russ tanks and Basilisk artillery platforms rolling over
the bridge from the west.”
103
Sebastev glanced at Brammon Gusseff. The rebel sat staring into space as if in a trance. The
more time Sebastev spent around the man, the more unsettled he became. From time to time,
Gusseff’s body would shake with muscular spasms that he seemed unable to control. It wasn’t due
to the cold, because the shakes were often localised to a single limb. Then there were the man’s
eyes, one moment, sharp and calculating, the next, filled with panic, flashing from left to right like
those of a trapped animal.
“I don’t know what’s special about him either,” said Sebastev, “but I’ll tell you this: the man is
damaged goods. There’s something wrong with him, aside from being a traitor to the Imperium, I
mean. He’s suffering from some kind of mental problem.”
“He’ll suffer a lot more than that when the interrogators start working on him,” spat Commissar
Karif. The commissar had opted to ride in the colonel’s Chimera on the way into Grazzen. Every
available space was needed in the remaining Pathcutter now that Chelnikov’s men had joined them.
“I suggest we focus on how we’re going to get through the ork lines, gentlemen,” said Colonel
Kabanov. “The prisoner’s worth is a matter for others to assess. All we need to know is that we’ve
been tasked with his delivery. Captain Chelnikov, since you’re familiar with the city, perhaps
you’ve got some ideas?”
“Well, sir,” said Chelnikov, “no matter where we try to push through, it isn’t going to be easy.
Major Ushenko has fought orks on a dozen worlds, sir. Before Danik’s World he had a reputation as
something of a specialist, as I’m sure you know.”
“I know it well,” replied Colonel Kabanov with a smile. “I was lucky enough to fight alongside
him during the skirmishes on Qietto and Merrand. Throne, that was a long time ago.”
“Major Ushenko says he hasn’t seen greenskin leadership like this before, sir,” continued
Chelnikov. “We don’t know who this ork warlord is, but he’s unusually well organised and
consistent.”
Chelnikov pointed to the eastern half of the city and said, “When I left to rendezvous with your
company, the orks had already encircled our forces, pressing us back towards the river, forcing us to
give up most of the territory beyond the industrial belt. As you can see, this highway cuts through
the city between the industrial and residential sectors; that’s where we were holding when I left. The
highway has proved an excellent killing ground. It’s too broad for the orks to cross without getting
chewed up by our heavy bolter nests, and their vehicles can’t cover the open ground without taking
fire from our tanks, Sentinels and lascannon batteries. The result is an impasse all along this road.
I’m hoping it’s still holding, but we’re heavily outnumbered and, as I left, I heard that the orks were
consolidating their forces for a big push. Major Ushenko believes the ork warlord will place himself
at the head of a major charge. If that’s true, it could provide a rare chance to eliminate him. Of
course, Fifth Company has other matters to contend with. I apologise for digressing, colonel.”
Colonel Kabanov shook his head. “Not at all, captain. I wish Major Ushenko good hunting. But,
from what you’ve said, we’ll have to push straight through the ork lines and cross the highway on
our journey to the north bridge. Correct?”
“Correct, sir. It’ll will leave our backs open to the orks, and it will put us directly in the firing
zone of both sides, but Major Ushenko has planned a little welcoming party for us.”
“Just what kind of party are we talking about, captain?” asked Sebastev.
“We should follow this road here from the south-west edge of the city, heading north-east
towards the bridge. There are ork infantry squads entrenched in buildings on either side of the road,
facing north-east across the highway, engaged in a firefight with platoons from my company. What
the orks don’t know is that we have Basilisk artillery in the city parks here, here and here.”
Chelnikov pointed to open areas on the map not far from the Vostroyan defensive frontline. “On
receiving my signal, our Basilisks will begin shelling this part of the city. It should wipe out most of
the ork infantry assembled in the area. If it doesn’t kill them, it’ll force them to keep their heads
down, at the very least.”
Kabanov nodded for the young captain to go on.
104
“A moment later, the guns will stop firing. That will be our cue to race for the open highway. I
emphasise the word race, gentlemen. We need to cross the killing ground at top speed. My comrades
on the far side can only afford to hold their fire for a very short time. We can’t give the orks a
chance to cross and engage at close quarters. As for our crossing, I’m hoping the weather will cloak
us from plain sight.”
“Once again,” said Colonel Kabanov, “this damned winter is both a blessing and a curse.”
Chelnikov nodded. “Once we’re safely behind our own lines, my men and I will rejoin our
company. You’ll be assigned a guide to take you to the north bridge and get you across to Theqis as
quickly as possible.”
Colonel Kabanov scrambled for his handkerchief again and began spluttering into it. Sebastev
spoke on his behalf. “Thank you, Captain Chelnikov. So long as the artillery barrage clears our path,
it sounds like we’ve every chance of getting through.”
“By the Emperor’s grace,” said Commissar Karif. “Let us hope the balance of the fighting hasn’t
shifted in the time you’ve been away, captain.”
Chelnikov turned to face the commissar. “I fear the same thing, but I can assure you that our
orders from Seddisvarr left no doubt concerning the general’s commitment to receiving your
prisoner. My company has been ordered to lay down their lives, if necessary, to ensure that this man
reaches Twelfth Army Command. You should have heard Major Ushenko’s reaction to that. We’ve
got men from the underhives in our company who’d never heard language like that.”
“I can understand the major’s feeling well, captain,” said Sebastev. “Not one of my troopers is
stupid enough to believe the corridor back to Theqis would have been kept open for us if we hadn’t
secured the prisoner in Nhalich. The Emperor smiled on us that day.”
Colonel Kabanov had regained control of his breathing and asked his adjutant for a flask of hot
ohx’. The smell of the salty drink filled the compartment as he drank. “Throne, that’s better,” he
said. “Would any of you like some?”
Sebastev felt he could use a mouthful, but before he could say so, Sergeant Samarov began
shouting from the driver’s seat of the Chimera.
“I have a visual on Grazzen,” he yelled over the noise of the engine. “We’re getting close,
colonel. The city is… the city is burning, sir.”
And so it was. As Fifth Company’s vehicles rolled onto level ground at the bottom of the
Varanesian foothills, reports started coming in from each of the drivers. The city of Grazzen was lit
from end to end with raging yellow flames. The thick snowfall and the violence of the howling
winds did nothing to put the fires out. The latter actually seemed to be fanning them and pushing
them westward.
Kabanov’s command Chimera pulled up at the front of the column. The rear hatch dropped and
Sebastev clambered out, quickly followed by the others, all dressed for the freezing cold.
“What the hell…?” gasped Lieutenant Kuritsin at Sebastev’s side.
“Emperor, no!” said Captain Chelnikov. “Are we too late?”
“Very clever,” said Commissar Karif, “incredibly so for a mere ork, don’t you think?”
“I’m not sure I follow, commissar,” said Lieutenant Kuritsin.
Commissar Karif stood with his hands in his greatcoat pockets. “It seems the ork leader needed a
little something extra to motivate his troops. We all know that orks are rarely as stupid their
reputation suggests. The ork infantry would’ve been reluctant to cross the highway without any
cover. From what Captain Chelnikov has told us, the heavy bolters of the Thirty-Fifth were waiting
to chew them up. Their losses would have been very heavy. So how does one force a reluctant army
to charge an entrenched enemy? Excluding the employment of commissars, of course,” he said,
smiling.
Colonel Kabanov nodded. “Light fires behind them.”
105
Everyone gazed at the burning city. The flames lit the low bellies of the clouds with an angry
orange glow.
“Big fires,” said Sebastev.
“Very effective,” said Commissar Karif with a nod. “Not only does it push the troops forward en
masse, but it cuts off any notion of retreat at the same time. I’d call that a very strong motivator
indeed. I’d consider employing it myself under extreme circumstances.”
“The Thirty-Fifth must be getting hit hard out there,” said Chelnikov through gritted teeth.
“Perhaps, captain,” said Colonel Kabanov, “but at the same time, the fires have pushed the orks
into the open.
“The highway you spoke of will be waist-deep in their dead, I’ll wager. There’s still everything
to fight for.”
“What about us?” asked Lieutenant Kuritsin. “What does this do to our plans?”
“We keep heading for the highway,” said Colonel Kabanov. “If we can get through those fires
safely in our transports, we can keep heading for our own lines along the same north-west road. We
may have to fight through the ork lines without Basilisk support, but we’ll be coming from the rear.
The element of surprise is still with us.”
