Storm Of Iron(科幻战争)-第6章

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to　misfire　and　the　shell　to　detonate　prematurely。
He　rose　to　one　knee　and　opened　up　with　his　bolt　pistol；　raking　his　fire　over　those　fortunate　enough　to　survive　the　destruction　of　the
Demolisher；　killing　everything　he　saw　in　his　battle　rage。
Kroeger's　blood…maddened　berserkers　clambered　across　the　shattered　walls　of　the　redoubt；　ignoring　wounds　that　would　have　felled
a　normal　human　a　dozen　times　over。　Not　for　them　the　elegance　of　precisely　orchestrated　attacks　using　sound　principles　of　military
engineering。　Bodies　were　hurled　aside；　ripped　apart　with　their　bare　hands　when　there　was　no　weapon　to　wield。
Honsou　spotted　Kroeger　amongst　his　men；　wading　through　a　press　of　bodies；　hacking　left　and　right　with　his　chainsword。　He　raised
his　own　sword　in　acknowledgement　towards　his　fellow　commander；　but　Kroeger　ignored　him；　as　Honsou　knew　he　would。　He
smiled　beneath　his　helm　and　sprinted　through　the　blazing　wreck　of　the　Demolisher　towards　the　tower。
ADEPT　CYCERIN　WATCHED　the　battle　raging　below　with　analytical　detachment。　His　moment　of　panic　had　passed。　Now；　secure
within　the　Hope；　he　watched　the　dance　of　attackers　and　defenders　as　coloured　icons　moving　across　a　topographical　representation
of　the　base。　Red　icons　surrounded　the　tower；　periodically　closing　in；　but　each　time　fading　as　the　fire　of　the　defenders　below　saw
them　off。
He　felt　mildly　ashamed　at　the　panic　he　had　displayed　earlier　and　resolved　again　to　request　ascension　to　the　next　level　of　symbiosis
with　the　holy　machine。　He　would　seek　permission　once　these　impudent　creatures　had　been　defeated。　Despite　his　failures　in　the
past；　surely　Arch　Magos　Amaethon　would　not　deny　him　again　after　his　masterful　defence　of　Jericho　Falls？　He　smiled　to　himself　as
he　watched　yet　more　red　icons　fade　from　the　slate。
The　smile　fell　from　his　face　as　the　icon　representing　the　southern　bunker　faded　from　a　steady　blue　to　an　ominous　black。
'Operator　Three；　what's　happened？'　he　asked。
'It's　gone；　destroyed；'　replied　Koval　Peronus。　'One　second　it　was　there；　now　it's　not！'
Cycerin　watched；　horrified　as　the　red　icons　suddenly　spilled　over　the　location　that　had；　only　moments　before；　been　one　of　the
lynchpins　of　his　defence。　As　the　defences　were　breached；　the　entire　line　fell　apart　with　horrifying　rapidity。　The　blue　icons
vanished　as　they　were　systematically　eliminated。　Cycerin　could　not　even　begin　to　imagine　the　carnage　occurring　less　than　twenty
metres　from　where　he　stood。
Eerie　orange　glows　from　the　fires　flickered　through　the　armoured　glass　windows；　but　no　sound　penetrated　the　control　room；
making　it　appear　remote　and　detached。　Just　below　him；　countless　lives　had　been　lost　and　there　would　be　many　more　before　this
day's　slaughter　was　over。
He　consoled　himself　with　the　knowledge　that　the　tower　itself　was　totally　secure　and　that　there　was　nothing　more　he　could　have
done　to　prevent　this　disaster。
A　deathly　hush　fell　upon　the　operators　and　staff　within　the　tower　as　a　massive　thudding　boom　suddenly　echoed　up　from　the　main
entrance。
'What　in　the　name　of　the　Machine　was　that？'　Cycerin　whispered　in　terror。
FORRIX　WATCHED　THE　adamantium　door　shudder　under　the　impact　of　the　Dreadnought's　siege　hammer；　the　metres…thick　door
buckling　under　the　repeated　blows。　It　was　only　a　matter　of　moments　until　the　door　would　be　ripped　from　its　frame　by　the
screaming　war　machine。　Thick　chains；　looped　through　bolted　rings；　ran　from　its　legs　and　shoulder　mounts；　where　two　dozen　of　the
strongest　Iron　Warriors　stood　ready　to　restrain　the　machine　once　it　had　broken　down　the　door　to　the　control　tower。
He　could　well　imagine　the　torment　the　damned　soul　bound　within　the　armoured　sarcophagus　must　be　undergoing。　To　be　cut　off
from　the　sensation　of　bloodletting；　never　to　feel　the　beat　of　blood　in　your　veins　at　the　moment　of　the　kill。　To　be　denied　the　thrill　of
bare　flesh　against　flesh　as　you　took　another　being's　life。　Such　a　fate　was　indeed　misery　and　suffering。　It　was　small　wonder　that；
once　confined　to　the　shell　of　a　Dreadnought；　the　scraps　of　flesh　that　awoke　to　find　themselves　confined　within　the　cold；　metal
walls　of　such　an　eternal　prison　could　not　escape　the　clutches　of　madness。
At　least　for　those　lunatic　war　machines；　madness　was　some　sort　of　release。　For　killing　held　no　joy　for　Forrix　any　longer。　Ten
thousand　years　of　butchery　and　murder　had　allowed　him　to　explore　the　deepest；　most　wretched　corners　of　the　human　capacity　for
cruelty　and　death。　He　had　shot；　cut；　tortured；　strangled；　snapped；　choked；　bludgeoned　and　dismembered　uncounted　souls　in　his
long　life；　yet　he　could　remember　none　of　them。　Each　blended　into　a　seamless　segue　of　banal　horror　that　had　long　since　dulled　his
senses　and　vicarious　enjoyment　of　such　slaughter。
Gunfire　sounded　sporadically；　the　last　pockets　of　resistance　being　mopped　up　even　now。　The　half…breed's　warriors　were　clearing
out　the　Imperial　soldiers　from　the　ruins　of　their　barrack　complex；　and　despite　Forrix's　contempt　for　Honsou's　flawed　heritage；　he
had　to　admit　that　his　rival　was　a　competent　commander。　Furthermore；　he　still　believed　in　the　dream　of　Horus；　and　the　unification
of　Humanity　under　the　terrible　Powers　of　Chaos。
Forrix　watched　Kroeger　pace　like　a　caged　animal；　straining　to　be　let　loose　within　the　confines　of　the　tower。　Kroeger's　impatience
Graham　McNeill　？Storm　of　Iron？
had　long　ceased　to　anger　Forrix；　now　it　simply　irritated　him。　The　man　was　a　proficient　killer；　and　he　had　fought　the　Warsmith's
enemies　for　ten　thousand　years；　admittedly；　but　he　lacked　the　perspective　that　such　an　eternity　of　war　and　despair　should　bring。
Unlike　Honsou；　Kroeger　had　long　since　cast　off　any　notions　of　the　good　of　humanity。　He　fought　for　greed；　for　slaughter　and　the
chance　to　exact　a　measure　of　revenge　upon　those　who　had　bested　them　so　long　ago。
As　for　himself？　Forrix　no　longer　knew　what　he　fought　for；　only　that　there　was　nothing　else　he　could　do。　He　had　been　damned　the
instant　he　had　spat　upon　his　oaths　of　loyalty　to　the　Emperor。　Now　he　could　walk　no　other　path。
His　own　warriors　waited　behind　him；　drawn　up　in　serried　ranks；　ready　to　begin　the　massive　logistical　operation　of　landing　tens　of
thousands　of　slaves；　workers；　soldiers　and　war　machines　from　orbit。　In　the　centuries　since　the　betrayal　on　Terra；　Forrix　had
organised　hundreds　of　such　operations　and　could　land　ten　thousand　men　and　have　them　ready　to　march　off　in　battle　order　in　under
five　hours。
Until　they　landed　the　Titans；　the　sheer　mass　of　the　tower　was　proof　against　their　available　weapons；　and　the　Warsmith　himself　had
impressed　upon　Forrix　the　need　for　swiftness　in　this　campaign。　He　could　not　risk　bringing　the　massive　bulk　carriers；　essentially
vast　barrack　ships；　down　into　low　orbit　until　the　control　tower　was　theirs。　It　was　entirely　likely　that　there　were　torpedo　silos　or
orbital　batteries　concealed　within　the　mountains　just　waiting　for　the　chance　to　down　such　valuable　targets。
Once　Kroeger　had　taken　the　tower　he　would　begin　the　landings。
And　then　this　world　would　burn。
KROEGER　WATCHED　THE　Dreadnought　rip　the　bludgeoned　door　from　its　frame　and　hurl　the　massive　piece　of　metal　through　the　air。
The　mad　howl　of　the　machine　echoed　across　the　spaceport　as　its　keepers　dragged　its　massive　bulk　away　from　the　low…ceilinged
interior　of　the　tower。
He　snarled　and　leapt　through　the　shattered　remains　of　the　door；　blood　pounding　through　his　veins　in　hot　excitement。　His　bloodlust
was　up；　stoked　by　the　infuriating　delays　in　achieving　entry　to　the　tower。　Screams　and　roars　followed　him；　as　a　tide　of　armoured
killers　poured　inside　the　last　bastion　of　the　Imperial　defenders。
Las…bolts　burst　around　him　and　ricocheted　from　his　armour；　but　nothing　could　stop　his　powerful　form。　Around　fifty　men　defended
the　internal　space　of　the　tower；　cowardly　wretches　who　had　allowed　their　comrades　to　be　butchered　while　they　had　prayed　for　a
deliverance　that　would　never　come。
Kroeger　charged　straight　for　the　heart　of　the　defence　as　Iron　Warriors　armed　with　gargoyle…mouthed　heavy　bolters　took　up
position　either　side　of　the　tower's　door；　spraying　the　defenders'　barricades　with　shells。
Five　powerful　strides　and　Kroeger　was　amongst　the　Imperial　soldiers；　chopping　and　hacking　with　his　sword。　Blood　fountained　and
cries　of　terror　echoed　from　the　gore…spattered　walls　as　the　Iron　Warriors　slew　every　man　that　stood　before　them。　It　was　an　uneven
struggle　and　as　Kroeger　wrenched　his　sword　from　the　belly　of　the　last　man；　it　was　with　a　snarl　of　displeasure。　Where　was　the　sport
to　be　had　in　slaughtering　such　weaklings？　The　lmperium　had　grown　soft。
Not　one　of　these　soldiers　could　have　stood　on　the　walls　of　Terra　in　the　last　days　and　held　their　head　high。　Kroeger　shook　his　head；
clearing　his　mind　of　ancient　memories。　There　was　battle　still　to　be　had。
ADEPT　CYCERIN　SAT　at　his　monitoring　station　and　awaited　death。　He　listened　to　the　shrieks　of　the　dying　echoing　from　the　voxspeakers；
and　felt　his　terror　rise　once　more；　suffocating　in　its　intensity。　His　hands　shook　uncontrollably　and　he　had　not　been　able　to
move　his　legs　for　the　last　few　minutes。　He　was　going　to　die。　The　logic　stacks　in　his　engineered　brain　could　offer　no　other　probable
outcome；　no　matter　how　often　he　pleaded　and　prayed。
The　staff　of　the　command　centre　huddled；　shaking；　at　the　far　end　of　the　room；　holding　one　another　as　death　approached。　Koval
Peronus　stood　alone；　holding　a　pair　of　laspistols　pointed　at　the　door。　Cycerin　was　under　no　illusion　now　as　to　how　flimsy　a　barrier
it　truly　was　and　was　impressed　by　the　determination　that　shone　from　his　underling's　features。
Suddenly　the　awful　shrieks　and　clamour　of　battle　ceased　from　below　and　Cycerin　knew　that　the　soldiers　were　all　dead。　Strange
how　inviolable　he　had　felt　here；　and　how　quickly　that　security　had　been　stripped　from　him。　Watching　Peronus；　he　saw　beads　of
sweat　gathering　on　his　forehead；　muscles　bunching　along　his　jaw…line　and　noticed　the　barely　perceptible　tremor　to　his　arms。　The
man　was　terrified；　yet　stood　his　ground　in　the　face　of　insurmountable　odds。　Cycerin　was　no　soldier；　but　recognised　true　courage
when　he　saw　it。
Stiffly；　he　rose　from　his　seat；　forcing　his　trembling　body　to　stand　beside　Koval　Peronus。　He　may　be　about　to　die；　but　as　an　adept　of
the　Machine　God；　he　would　die　standing　before　the　enemy　with　chin　h