+++Chapter 7+++

Klast peered into the darkness of the tunnel ahead, the light from the small cave entrance illuminating no further than the spot they stood in now. With a thought he activated his armour's night vision, his eyes adjusting almost instantly to the red glow through his visor. The tunnel stretched off into the distance, it's rocky floor covered in puddles from water dripping from the ceiling and running down the rusting metal supports lining the tunnel walls. He adjusted his grip on the Power Axe he now held in his right hand, it's darkened blade currently deactivated. Gripping his new weapon tightly he swore if he met Corvex again, next time he would have revenge. At the thought of Corvex Klast glanced at the other marines. With the death of his old friend Selan, Masen had taken on carrying the squads second assault weapon, his choice of a Flamer ideal in the crampt conditions of the underhive. Dragarn, as always, carried his Melta Gun, but for this mission Victer and Furisan had exchanged their Bolters for Bolt Pistols and Chainswords, with close combat all but assured it was wise to be prepared he thought. They had all been grimly silent since their encounter with the Black Legion, each marine remembering over thirty years together as a unit, always making it out alive, until today. Feeling anger welling up inside, Klast channelled it aside, storing it, his Spacemarine training giving him the mental focus to put his rage on hold. His attention once again on the tunnel ahead, Klast holstered his pistol and drew out his Auspex. As he thumbed the bio scan rune it's screen flickered into life, a white line sweept across the grid display. Nothing but a few small blips against the walls, he'd seen the Lashworms when he paid the Governor a visit, nothing to concern a power armoured spacemarine.

"Gavan's scouts have been monitoring the tunnel, there's been nothing in or out, but stay sharp." Klast whispered into the com.

Masen looked at the rusted old Meltabombs planted around the cave entranace. "I can't believe the Imperials didn't check their explosives had gone off. Leaving a way in like this, they're just lucky the cultists didn't check either.

Klast shrugged. "Regardless, it makes things easier for us. Lets get moving, I'll take point."

Grug picked up the first dead rat from the pile of bodies lain before him and sniffed the mangy corpse, all the while his beady eyes darting around watching the other Black Fangs. Satisified it wasn't too rancid he stuffed the corpse into his now slobbering mouth, it's matted fur tearing under his black painted, sharpened teeth. The other gangers scrabbled around him, waiting their leader's approval to join in the feast. He noticed how Prak stared at him, envy written across his face, Grug knew he would be challenged soon. He held Prak's gaze, swallowed his mouthfull of rat flesh and slid the remains into a pocket in his tattered brown leather tunic.

"Feast, my friends, feast." Grug backed off from the result of the day's hunting, his Black Fang gangers immediately scrambling to fight for the choice food. He turned and walked away from his crazed minions, with his back to the others he winced at the snarling voices, it seemed he alone could remember when they were the prime gang in the duron hive and all but the insane answered to him. The war had changed that, now they were barely human living in the filthy gloom of the lowest levels. With a sign of resignation he ducked under a steaming pipe and sat down, slumping against the chamber wall. He drew out his rat dinner, put aside his thoughts of the past and continued his meal.

Absorbed with his dinner Grug didn't notice the clumping footsteps. He didn't even realise anything was wrong until the screaming started. Startled, he looked across at the others and saw the reason for their screams. Awash with terror Grug leapt to his feet, smashing his head into the pipe above him. He fell to the floor as blackness washed over him.

The Shadowhawks stood still, listening to the screams from the chamber beyond them. The dark corridor curved away to the right, the source of the noise as of yet unseen, just blue light sporadically flashing around the curved walls. Klast sub-vocalised into the comlink

"Masen, whatever it is, torch it."

Masen creapt alongside Klast, with the corridor only wide enough for the marines to walk two abreast, the others fell in behind them. As they neared the point where the chamber became visible round the bend, Masen pulled the trigger. The air filled with the smell of promethium as a stream of roaring, liquid fire errupted from the Flamer, Masen marched into the room swinging the barrel left to right bathing the room in flames. The Shadowhawks swiftly moved into the chamber, spreading around the entrance, weapons raised and ready. The chamber was roughly a 20 metres wide with three corridors branching out from it. The exact dimensions hard to establish amongst the now burning clutter of rusting pipes, crates and debris. Mutilated bodies burned in the middle of room, the smell of roasted flesh battling against the chemical stench of promethium.

"Looks clear Sergeant."

Klast nodded in reply to Masen and pointed forwards. As one the Shadowhawks advanced into the flames, the heat scorching their armour's paintwork, within their armour's protective systems the marines hardly noticed the change in temperature. Nor did they pay attention to the burning human remains that squealched and crunched under their armoured footsteps.

"Got a live one here." Furisan pointed under a mass of pipes and cabling. "Looks like this lot protected him." Holstering his pistol and clipping his chainsword to his belt Furisan reached under the pipework and gripped the sweating hive ganger by the leg. Dragging him out he picking the bedraggled man up and held him away from the nearby flames. With a start the ganger came round, arms flailing frantically, his wild eyes staring up at the Spacemarine. Furisan pulled the pitiful wretch off his feet bringing him up to eye level with his armoured helm. "What did this to you?"

"I.. I don't know, it was a beast, a machine beast!"

"What do you mean, machine beast?"

"It's body was like a man, but, but it's arms were, were great metal claws! And it's face, it's face..." The ganger's voice trailed off.

Furisan looked round at Klast, who nodded once and sub-vocalised into the com. "We can afford no lose ends."

Furisan turned his head back to face the human dangling from his iron grip. "What is your name?"

"Grug..."

"I am sorry Grug." With a lightning fast twist of the wrist Furisan turned Grug's head, killing him instantly, he let the body fall to the floor.

Klast looked around the smouldering room and the now roasted disemembered remains smothering the floor. "I'm guessing some form of Adeptus Mechanicus Battle Servitor or Pitfighter did this, but I don't..." His words were cut short as the 'machine beast' hurtled out of the doorway opposite, barreling into Dragarn and knocking him to the floor. Without a moments pause the Shadowhawks reacted, weapons moving to target the new enemy. Klast brought his Plasma Pistol to bare, in that fraction of a second his enhanced brain and senses assessed his opponent. A human body in a crouched stance, skin blackened and burnt from the flamer's fire, masses of tubes connecting it's spine to cannisters filled with bubbling liquid attached to the creatures back. The main threat was obviously the pair of huge three pronged power claws replacing it's lower arms, blue lightning crackled around the razor sharp talons, they would cut through armour like paper. It's face was covered by a leering iron skull mask, the gaping mouth chattering open and closed, froth spilling out from whatever remained of the human mouth behind. Klast had encountered one of these before, it had nearly cost him his right arm. An Arco Flagellant. This was the ultimate punishment under Imperial law, saved for the worst heretics. Mind wiped, physically enhanced, limbs often replaced with power weaponry and then it would be pumped full of combat drugs until in a constant psychotic rage. There was only two ways of stopping an Arco Flagellant, to speak it's safe word that would activate it's pacifier mask, or to destroy it, he knew it would have to be the latter option.

Klast's Plasma Pistol spat a ball of superheated energy as the other Shadohawks Bolt Pistols fired. With deceptive speed the Arco Flagellant leapt sideways dodging their shots and then pounced at Klast. Stepping back Klast swung out with his Power Axe, it's blade sparking off the Flagellant's out stretched claws and deflected it's attack. The Flagellant pushed forward, claws swinging forward in energy charged circles. Klast allowed himself to be forced backwards, his Axe whirling to parry each of the claw's strikes. Furisan and Victer moved in to attack it from the sides, their chain sword's blades whirring as they thumbed their weapons in to life. Victer plunged his Chainsword into the Flagellant's side, the chain blade whined grating against bone as chunks of flesh and ribcage came spitting out of the wound. The Flagellant lashed out with it's left claw, the powered talons slicing through the Chainsword tearing into it's body, chain links flew out in all directions embedding into Victer's armour as he leapt backwards dropping his severed sword. The beast bellowed in rage as Furisan joined the melee from the opposite side, his blade hacking into it's right arm. Klast seized the moment of distraction and struck with his Power Axe, cleaving the Flagellant's left arm at the elbow, the Power Claw dropping to the floor with a clang. In a frantic rage now the Flagellant charged forwards at Klast, it's remaining claw stretching out for his head. At the last minute Klast dodged sideways and ducked, sweeping his Power Axe through the beast's legs at the knees, the energized blade slicing clean through. The Flagellant roared in frustration, writhing on the floor, unable to reach it's targets with it's new stubs for legs. The remaining claw snapped open and closed, trying to catch it's tormentors.

The Shadowhawks surrounded the screeching Flagellant, each marine keeping out of reach of the remaining Power Claw.

"Nasty things those." Victer said picking chain blade links out of his armour.

"Indeed..." Klast nodded over at Dargarn. "Shut it up will you."

Dragarn's Meltagun tracked the Arco Flagellants twitching head, with a hiss of heated air the gun fired. The Flagellant fell still as it's head steamed into nothing, all matter evaporating under the Melta's molecular agitation.

"I'm guessing the Mechanicus have released more of these into the under-hive, they always like their over zealous security measures..." Furisan kicked the lifeless mangled creature.

Klast activated the automap display within his helmet's display, a three dimensional orange wire frame map overlaid his vision. "Well, it's not done them any good." He pointed at the chambers one bare wall. "Dragarn, Victer, place Melta-bombs centrally against that wall."

The marines followed his orders, the charges locking into place with magnetic seals. "Set timers to 20 seconds." The Shadowhawks pressed runes on the bomb's detonator panels and moved backwards, the marines keeping a respectfull distance from the explosives, watching the green rune display count down. With sharp snap and hiss the Melta-bombs detonated, melting a hole wide enough to admit a marine through the metal wall. Victer stepped up to the hole and poked his head through, looking down into a smooth metal lined square shaft disappearing into the ink black depths below. "This the elevator shaft then?"

"Aye, activate your armour's zero gravity systems, we're going for a climb."

Aboard the Hawk's Talon Epistolary Primis looked through the portal at the crumbling Chaos cruiser, the hulk sinking lower towards the planet below. As he watched, the rear drive section broke away, a great chunk of metal kilometres across spinning towards the planet below.

"Brother Primas, have you been able to contact Sergeant Klast?" Primas turned to face Captain Straun, the ship's giant of a captain striding across the bridge, a grim look on his angular features.

"I'm afraid not. Communication through the mass of minds making up a Hive City is difficult at the best of times." Primas glanced out of the portal, frowning, the death screams of chaos worshippers rippling the warp still echoing through his brain. "And this is not the best of times..."

"Then they are on their own. Our Vox systems are unable to penetrate through to the underhive."

"Have the Astrotech's initial calculations been confirmed?"

Straun sighed. "Aye, there is no mistake. In minutes the first pieces of wreckage will begin to rain down on Duron Hive."

By Bootae

+++Chapter 8 - COMING SOON!+++