Last Son of Caliban: The Truth, but Not the Whole Truth


Master Cain stood with the small coterie of commanders.  Ezekiel, Habbakuk, Zadok, Bors, and Nabbuk clustered around him at the end of the column of burning vehicles and men.  The rest of the company, under the supervision of their sergeants, dealt with the bodies and wargear, always alert for intelligence.  Their calm, focused movements kept a wary distance from their quiet commanders.

“The traitor is near.  We have his location approximated, and the hunters from the Ravenwing are covering his escape routes.  We will soon be ready to strike.  Lieutenant Nabbuk, Chaplain Zadok, you will each take a portion of the company to relieve our brothers at their blocking positions.  Lieutenant Bors, you will take Jubal, Zebediah, Alameida, and the Librarian, and accompany Master Librarian Ezekiel, he will lead Sergeant Cole’s squad in the final strike on the traitor.”

Ezekiel nodded, his flesh and blood eye flaring, his crude implant sullen and red.  “And where will you be Master Cain?”

“I will be with the command group, Chaplain Zadok has far less in the way of troops, so I will keep close to him in case of any emergency, as we discussed.”  Bors shot a glance at Habbakuk.  Habbakuk radiated a confident satisfaction.  His face relaxed, even as his eyes danced over the other Primaris in the group.  Cain looked them over, taking in the mood.  “Our campaign is nearly finished.  Zadok, Nabbuk, you will pit a cork in the bottle, Bors, you will flush it out.  If any of you encounter trouble call out.  I will bring the command group, and our Repulsor to your aid swiftly.  In addition the Ravenwing has their bombers on call at a moment’s notice.  Now go, assemble your troops, we leave in 10 minutes.”

“Chaplain Habbakuk, a moment of your time please.”  Bors said, the Chaplain nodded, pulling the grizzled Lieutenant clear of the group.  Bors took a few moments, voxing commands to assemble his convoy near their position, troops inside and ready to go.  “Brother Chaplain, how much does Master Cain know?”

Habbakuk turned a bit, looking at the tall, powerfully built Master of the company.  “He knows we face a traitor.  He doesn’t know it is our traitor.  We must, YOU must drive your force in, open a hole so that Ezekial and my forces can secure him and get him off world before any of our new… brothers are aware who it is we hunt.  Stripped of his armor and drugged to his eyebrows we can pass him off as a Night Lord or a Black Legionnaire or whatever we want.  You must drive HARD Bors!  You must be the spear that pierces their defenses, you must blast a hole wide enough for the extraction team to drive them, and when they are there you must hold back reinforcements until our fallen brother is extracted!”

Bors nodded.  He had been there when Astelan was captured, his own time in the Deathwing had been brief, his star ascendant, his own command near.  Now things were less certain.  Too many lights shining in too many places.  He would not fail this charge.  he would be the very tip of the spear, he would pierce the shield of the enemy’s defenses and form the wall preventing their reinforcements.  He nodded sharply at the ominous Interrogator-Chaplain, even as they donned their helmets.  “So be it.  For the Lion.”

“For the Lion.”

2 hours later.

“All elements in position.  Ravenwing team assembled, Assault team assembled.  Lieutenant Bors, the order is yours.”  Cain said, voice tense over the vox.

Lieutenant Bors looked over everything carefully, noting the position of the Ravenwing flyers, before calling out “Strike team, move to point Vengeance, for the Lion and the Emperor!”

The Predator spearheading the assault gunned its engine, close behind it Bors and the survivors of squad Jubal raced forward in their Razorback, twin assault cannons whirring as the gunner tested their servos eagerly.  The rest of the vehicles raced forward with Sergeant Alameida and his hellblasters bringing up the rear in their massive repulsor.  Behind the formation came the black Ravenwing, and Bone White Deathwing vehicles.  Ominous shadows carefully pacing the coursing hounds sent to flush out their prey.

The predator’s autocannon barked fire, shells cracking into a Chimera staggering it before a lascannon blast shattered it.  Troops spilled from the wreck straight into a stream of assault cannon fire the rest of the vehicles crowded in together, weapons firing feverishly, strobes of las fire, thudding assault cannons and autocannons as Bors directed the assault.

“Spread out, push them from their bunkers!  Squads prepare to deploy.  Alameida swing to the left to engage those weapon pits!  Spread out by the Rock!”  he called, voice pained by the close packed icons.

A tremendous concussion stunned the battlefield.  Green vehicles rode the rippling ground as an earthshaker cannon fired at point blank range.  Another potent blast went off inside Squad Zebediah’s rhino, turning the vehicle and its men into shrapnel and gore.  Marines spilled from other damaged and broken vehicles.

“All squads assault into the bunker complex to our left front.  Alameida clear those bunkers out!  We will take them and open a hole for the hunters!”

“Lieutenant Bors, I am on the way to reinforce your position.”  Called out Cain amid the vox-chatter.

Bors lept from his Razorback, ordering Jubal’s men forward with him.  The marines went forward, bolters and melta guns firing, grenades arcing out in front of them, scouring the closest bunker and fiery balls of plasma from the hellblasters tore the roof off another.  The marines dove into the bunkers, knives and bolt pistols blasting the few men still in them.  The crippled Predator continued to fire, guns intimidating but not accurate after so many sensors had been blasted from its noble hull.  The rest of the vehicles rested in sullen silence.

“Master Ezekiel, we have cleared the bunkers, if you move quickly you can get through to your prey!”  panted Bors.  “Chaplain Habbakuk, we have taken heavy losses, we could use your support holding the gap.”

“Negative, Chaplain push on, I will reinforce Bors.”  called Cain.  Bors looked back in shock.  “Master Cain, please hold the perimeter.  We can manage this, we cannot risk an escape by our foe.”

“Chaplain Zadok can hold in my absence.  We will plug the line behind our hunters.”

Ezekiel called in to Bors on a secure channel.  “This is acceptable.  Keep him at your position.”

“Very well Master, home on my position, help us take the bunkers to our right.”

Bors set his squads in defensive positions in the bunkers, setting fire on nearby bunkers, suppressing them while the bone and black vehicles raced by.  Master Cain’s vehicle came up, belching fire into the already weakened bunkers, finishing their defenders.  Cain and his escorts dismounted, some clearing the bunkers, Cain observing the battlefield.  The Earthshakers had been destroyed, the thin skinned vehicles less resistant to fire than even the Rhinos and Razorbacks they had ambushed.  Ahead the sounds of combat dwindled a bit then flared suddenly.

“There!  Heavily armed squads by that bunker!”

“I don’t see them…”

“Fire on the hedgerow”

“Swing to the left!”

“Call in the Black Talons!”  so many calls from the normally quiet and reserved Ravenwing and Deathwing squads stunned Bors a moment.  There was another crescendo of fire.

“There!  Habbakuk to your left!”  called Ezekiel, his soft voice suddenly strong, cutting through the chatter.”

“I don’t see him!  Where?”

“Behind that Rhino!  Ware right!”  A loud explosion split the night and Bors could just make out a figure racing to a side path, away from the fight.

Bors suddenly looked further to his right.  Cain’s Repulsor was nowhere to be seen.  The 100 ton behemoth had glided off down the trail without him noticing.

“Chaplain Habbakuk, Master Cain has pushed forward!”

“Throne!  We have to…” his channel cut out as a massive explosion shook the field.  Silence reigned for a moment, as if ordinary sound was afraid to show its face following the staggering concussion.  A fireball and cloud lifted over the field to Bors front.

“Master Cain!  Master Ezekiel!  Chaplain Habbakuk, report!”  Called out Bors.  Already he saw icons for the covering force moving towards him.  Then the vox cut in.

“Hold traitor!  Stand where you are!”  Bors raced down the path towards the icon of the Repulsor tank, just in time to see a burst of gatling cannon fire rip through a knot of figures.  One dove aside, rolling and coming to his feet with a speed and grace only possible to an Astartes.  His black armor pocked by fire, smeared by smoke, he tried to evade, saw Bors and sprinted down a creek bed just in time to be tackled by the massive form of master Cain.  The traitor looked like a teenager in the grasp of the massive Primaris marine.  Still he fought back, kicking free a moment and drawing a knife, a wild feint and slash took both eyepieces off Cain’s helmet just as Bors sword crushed the traitor’s power plant deep within his backpack.  Slowed by the loss of power to his armor the traitor staggered, face pale, dark hair flailing as he looked for some escape, he sat hard, thin face twisted in a wry grin.

Bors looked on, mind racing.  “See Master Cain!  The traitors even try to wear our old colors to sow confusion amongst our brothers!”  Trying to get the idea planted before Cain could remove his helmet and take in the full scene with his own eyes.  Before he could take a step and knock the traitor out cold Cain and the fallen locked eyes.  Cain’s widened in shock and horror.  The fallen chuckled.

“MASTER Cain?  Lapdog to the Emperor after so long?  He wheezed under the weight of his broken armor.


About Corelin

An Eve playing Fool who occasionally writes about the shenanigans he and his minions get up to.

Posted on December 7, 2017, in Fiction, Last Son of Caliban, Warhammer 40k. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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