The Battle for Daluoke

[Spartan-1 armor activated. Turbocharger system normal. Propulsion system normal. Weapons systems normal. Life support normal.]

[Drop target locked. Prepare to deploy.]

[Drop countdown: ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, zero.]

Shrill alarms sounded and red lights flashed. The hatch slammed open. The sudden suction almost dragged every Catachan infantryman out into space. Only their magnetic boots kept them in position in the near vacuum.

Spartan-1 armor had been designed for individual Astra Militarum soldiers. Its control system used a neuromechanical interface inside the helmet, connecting to the brain's nerve endings through the socket at the back of the skull. The suit was made from a newly synthesized metal, remarkably tough and able to withstand devastating attacks. Its personal shield could endure intense shellfire and streams of bullets.

A miniature antimatter reactor powered it for five years or more without resupply. The reactor supplied both the flight system and the weapons, which included plasma beams and pulse fire. Life support allowed the wearer to fight in many environments. The sealed suit could operate in poison gas or on worlds where humans could not otherwise survive. Its scanners also recorded the surroundings and sent firsthand intelligence back to the mothership.

They were seven hundred kilometers above Daluoke's surface, far beyond a mere ten thousand meters. Even a lump of iron dropped from here would probably be deformed by the time it reached the ground. The Imperium had never deployed Astra Militarum troops from this altitude. Yide's fleet would be the first. At the command, the Catachans jumped.

As they entered the atmosphere, their armor grew hotter. Flames formed around them. [Armor system activating. Personal shield activated. Target calibration complete.]

A string of alerts sounded. Blue shields appeared before the soldiers, enveloping their gray-green armor. On the bridge, Yide watched them leap through the hatch and plunge into the atmosphere like meteors. He ordered the carrier aircraft into atmospheric combat as well.

High-speed thrust let the troops break free of their orbital paths and head straight for the surface. Simply jumping out of a spacecraft would not make them fall directly to the ground. Gravity would keep them circling the planet in orbit. The Spartan-1 suits gave the Catachans the propulsion they needed to descend toward Daluoke.

[Attention. Connection established with the mothership's scanning system. Enemy missile and beam trajectories will be displayed. Take evasive action.]

Kewonei, a Catachan assault veteran of countless battles, could not help admiring Ultramar's wealth. A hundred thousand suits of individual combat armor, issued at once to form ten assault regiments. What extravagance.

He had only seen the T'au equip troops on such a scale, using armored suits to protect their frail bodies and improve their chances of survival. Flames rippled across his own shield as it rubbed against the air.

Kewonei focused. He was a hundred kilometers above the surface now, already at the altitude of low-flying combat aircraft and vulnerable to interception. A formation of Imperial-pattern Thunderbolts came screaming toward them. These belonged to Daluoke's rebels. They had noticed the drop. A Stormbird soon moved to intercept. The escort aircraft were there to keep enemy fighters from picking the soldiers off.

After dodging several bursts of cannon fire and a guided missile, Kewonei landed safely. Every landing point had been carefully calculated. Yide was conducting a decapitation strike to avoid mass civilian casualties. The Catachans dropped onto critical rebel positions: reactors, shield generators, starports, and arms factories.

Kewonei came under heavy fire as soon as he landed. Red beams shot from every direction, trying to kill them all. The rebels carried the long-barreled lasguns common throughout the Imperial military. They were highly accurate, their beams crossing the distance from shooter to target almost instantly.

They also had an obvious flaw: they revealed the shooter's position. Kewonei could trace those blazing beams back to the enemy with his own eyes, without using the Spartan's sensors. In a third of a second, the automatic cannon on his right arm locked onto every shooter and shared their positions with nearby squadmates. At his command, it began picking them off. Powerful laser beams punched through heads, leaving bodies with neat holes in their skulls.

"Move up. Target the reactor."

[Scan complete. Route to target marked.]

At the armor's prompt, Kewonei raised his bolt-action rifle. This was not an open battlefield. Instead of weapons that devastated wide areas, they carried solid-shot rifles capable of extreme-range fire.

The enemies trying to block and surround them were soon dead. The squad activated its thrusters and raced toward the reactor. Kewonei was unlucky. A shell caught him amid the concentrated fire. His shield activated in time, but could not keep him on course. The blast hurled him into a residential building.

Coughing, he rose from the rubble. He had crashed into someone's fourth-floor home. A dim lamp flickered, throwing the long shadow of his armored body across the room. Something thick and unidentifiable was cooking on the stove. The walls were worn, their broken coating exposing gray reinforcement and sheet metal. Old sheets served as curtains. A ruined sofa and a small bed were all the family owned.

A woman crouched beneath a washbasin with a corner missing. Her clothes were ragged. Tears and terror filled her face as she clutched a little girl. Her eyes pleaded with him, full of despair. The child stared, frightened and dazed.

"Someone will come to help you deal with this." With that, Kewonei activated his flight system to leave.

A man rushed into the room, trembling, a kitchen knife in his hand. "Get away, monster! Stay away from them!" He put himself between Kewonei and his wife and daughter. His hands and feet shook. Kewonei looked at the man's frail body, the knife, and his trembling limbs.

[Threat detected. Defensive counterattack initiating.]

"Stop! Do not attack civilians!" Kewonei said quickly.

[Command accepted. Defensive counterattack terminated.] The cannon retracted automatically.

The man was even more frightened. Rebellion or pacification, it was always innocent civilians who suffered. This soldier could torture his whole family to death and no one would care. No one cared whether ordinary people lived or died.

"I'm sorry. I mean you no harm. Someone will come afterward to help you." Kewonei raised his hands, then activated his thrusters and flew clear of the house.

He quickly rejoined his squad. "What happened, boss? Get shot again?" an old friend teased over the channel.

"Smashed up someone's home. Lucky I didn't hurt anyone. What's the situation? We need to finish this quickly," Kewonei said.

"Two bunkers ahead, with six automated gun emplacements. The fire's too heavy. We can't get close."

Kewonei peered out. Gunfire rattled against his cover, showering sparks as bullets struck metal plate. Laser beams hissed as they melted it. Even protected by Spartan armor, he hastily pulled his head back. The enemy's fire was ferocious. His suit would fare badly under that much concentrated fire.

In that brief glimpse, he had seen five enemy Predator tanks turning on their tracks, guns trained on the squad, waiting for them to break cover.

"What do we do, boss?" one of the soldiers asked.

"Split up and flank them. Everyone, activate your thrusters. They can't keep up with us," Kewonei said.

"Brilliant idea. We get to be flying targets."

"Shut up and do it. Shields and thrusters on."

All seven members of the squad leaped together. Jets of fierce flame sent them hurtling at the enemy. The moment they took to the air, they drew concentrated fire. Bullets, bolts, and laser beams converged on them. Every kind of weapon struck their shields, but none penetrated.

Kewonei's integrated tactical system sounded an alarm. His shield was nearing overload, and two guided rockets were closing in. He swerved sharply, changing course in an emergency maneuver. The rockets collided and exploded in midair.

He landed behind a group of rebels creeping around a heap of wrecked machinery. They had not seen him. They were still firing at his squadmates. Kewonei smiled.

"Activate the cannons. Let's start killing."

[Command accepted. Cannon modules activated.] Mechanisms whirred. Two laser cannons extended from his back. Kewonei stepped out on the rebels' flank, both arms forward, his bolt-action rifle raised.

The rebels fell. They were disciplined fighters: his sudden attack did not panic them, and they tried to return fire. It made no difference. No one could stop Guilliman's new army.

"For the Emperor! For Guilliman! For humanity!" Kewonei charged the bunker and threw two high-explosive grenades inside. Amid the roar of gunfire, a bloody piece of skull flew out and struck an alloy plate beside him with a sharp ring.

His squad charged up as well, activating their cannons and saturating the firing Predators with shots. Holes riddled the tanks. Explosions tore through their interiors as ammunition racks were hit and detonated. A gun barrel flew off in the blast and buried itself in the thick wall of a distant defense tower. Soon all five Predators were smoking heaps of steel.

"Main obstacle cleared. Keep moving," Kewonei ordered.

The squad advanced through smoking wreckage and showers of electrical sparks. An explosion boomed in the distance. Looking toward it, they saw a Stormbird climbing into the sky above a column of flame and scattered aircraft debris. It appeared to have chased a rebel Thunderbolt down and destroyed it as the enemy tried to pull out of its dive.

Working together, they soon approached their main objective, the reactor. The rebels had reinforced the site. A complete outer layer of plasteel encased an almost unbreakable concrete core. The enormous bunker protected the reactor, with a shield over it as well. Even the fiercest attack would probably cause no more than a slight tremor inside.

A Knight squad guarded the exterior. "Knight Paladins, infantry, two Predators, and four antiaircraft positions. They must really care about this place."

"No kidding. If they didn't, would we be here for a picnic?"

"Monkey, would it kill you to go one day without giving me grief?"

Listening to his men bicker, Kewonei felt a headache coming on.

"Enough. Let's finish the job. We've got other work to do. For the Regent, let's come up with a decent plan first."