Ashes Page 12
Along the line, the Crabs dug in their retractable legs for greater stability and unfolded their turret weapons. As soon as the long barrels reached a horizontal position, the turrets rotated to face out from the column. In the infra-red monitors it could be seen that a number of laser targeting systems flickered into life and painted small dots on close grouped concentrations of men. The turrets shifted back and forth lining up their shots, the laser sights raining trained no matter the movement of the turrets. Then the heat of the explosive percussion of the turret-mounted weapons obscured the monitors.
A line of earth rose up as the heavy weapons did their deadly work, felling hundreds of men at a time. The computer systems of the Crabs synchronised each round so that no matter the position of the individual vehicle its deadly payload landed at the same time as all the others. Men fell, while others flew through the air, wholly or in pieces as the shells hid the advancing host. In concert, another discharge from each APC filled the air with their cacophonies. Another wall of earth rose to meet the attacking force but still they advanced.
A wall of sound blasted into every man, woman and child on the ground forcing them to cover their ears and find what little shelter was available. A line of small dots would, had anyone chanced to look upward, have been visible as the Imperial tactical strikers dropped their deadly payload. From the rear of the column fire rose skyward, and on each side of the column this line of hellish proportions grew, engulfing the advancing men in their entirety. Where the laser sightings had been targeted thus the fiery rose blooms blossomed taking their deadly harvest of men’s lives. A wave of heat washed over the column as all sought out the cover of the APCs. Then the shockwave hit basting sand, dust, and rock at twice the speed of the storm they had only just escaped.
The roar died down and the ringing was all that was audible, soldiers shouted at each other to ascertain the position they were in, but not one was heard. Men stumbled from cover to survey the charred and burning vista. Gone were the advancing hordes; and in their place were charred bodies, mainly in their component pieces, indistinguishable from each other. The silence cosseted everything. As the soldiers realised that they were now no longer in danger they stood and shook the dust from their uniforms and looked round to see which of their comrades had also been so fortunate as to survive.
Lieutenant Gratius took the time to survey the reminder of the column, trusting Sergeant Curtius to apprise him of the state of his own squad when he had checked the status of each man individually. The altercation had decimated several squads. Pompeius Squad had fared particularly badly reflecting their lack of professionalism. They had lost a full half of their command structure and a third of their men. Luckily to the success of the mission, but not the prisoners, they had the least number of surviving prisoners left, meaning their diminished capacity was of little consequence to the overall mission. Lieutenant Gratius was not proud of having to appraise the mission in such a manner when it came to human lives but such was the realism of the mission’s objectives. He listened attentively when Sergeant Curtius similarly informed him of the state of his own Squad. Several guardsmen had fallen to enemy fire, but none of the specialists. While certain re-assignments had to be catered for to ensure cover and mobility issues, there were no casualties in his own command structure. Whilst the loss of several members this early into the mission did rankle, he was painfully aware the attack could have been worse. Had this been anything else than a wholly infantry based assault his losses would have been worse due to the lack of warning, although had vehicles been used the radar would have given more warning despite the storm.
“Is the settlement ahead of us confirmed?” he asked Sergeant Curtius.
“Yes Sir, Jerusalem is confirmed Sir.”
As the column made its way ahead the sand toned buildings hugging the multiple hills became more apparent and the minarets of the more prominent structures faded into sight from the obscurity of distance. The Dome of the Rock, its golden main feature and pale blue walls made it easy to distinguish from the earth tones of the other buildings. Although this building was situated upon a promontory, the surrounding hills gave it the appearance of being nestled in a valley. The urban sprawl hid the complex of walls that surrounded the construction obscuring the remainder of the impressive complex. Although the Dome dominated the skyline the remainder of the landmark buildings of the city were hard to distinguish, being made of the standard sandstone that was so readily available in the locality. The city in and of itself looked carved of the very bedrock, save for the occasional dilapidated pre-Imperial concrete structure in the newer quarter in the distance.
Halberdier Amatius looked down upon the vista that had housed generations of his pre-Imperial ancestors; not with the awe that in times past he may have done, but with the contempt of all that this mass of buildings evoked in the mind given he believed this city had birthed much of that which was evil in the pre-Imperial world. From these sandy buildings had sprung Judaism and Christianity, the seeds of Holy War and Jihad had been created from a struggle for this very city. A struggle that at its very core, to Balbus, was misplaced at best and heretical at worst. Judaism and Christianity had given birth to Islam, the very religion he sought to purge from the annals of his family by becoming a citizen of Sol Invictus. In the surrounding area lay the Church of the Nativity and close to the Dome itself, the Wailing Wall. All symbols of all that had crippled and brought low the fractured religious movements prior to the ascendancy of the might of Sol Invictus.
Lieutenant Gratius drank in the vista, remembering the hundreds of years of warfare he had read about in the textbooks and treatises he had studied. The Egyptians, the Romans, the Israelites, the Muslims, the Crusaders and the Ottoman Empire, all had found this poor desolate outcrop of rock hard to hold, but it seemed to all of them to hold some dreadful fascination, for they had expended much of their available resource to hold it against those that would take it from them, be it an invading force or an insurgent one from within. The tactical importance of this city was minimal, but its importance to the various religious movements of the area had meant that conquering and holding it cemented their mastery of the area in the minds of those they opposed. Had they adopted a purely tactical occupation of the surrounding area then those within would view their gods to be on the side of those in the city and would, consequently fight all the harder to rid the occupiers of the remainder. Such psychological factors as these played across Lieutenant Gratius’ mind, for it was no co-incidence that such an assault as had been launched was done within sight of such a rallying point. It did not bode well for the next few days while such evocative sites were near.
Chapter 9
Sol Invictus was surely not present in the trenches of the rebels mused General Hostilius to himself. Unable to cope with the thought of not witnessing the extremes to which the Investigator would go he had tapped into some of the forward observation post feeds. Perhaps if he held some leverage, some excess that even the Empire would not condone he could extricate himself from this predicament that he had found himself in. The warnings had been correct; any campaign involving an Investigator was bad news. General Hostilius, however was forced to concede to himself that this campaign was probably the worst, for normally the Empire retained a tight training an theological control over the Investigators. Cold and inhuman, they followed their instructions to the letter with no mercy and little deviation, save for operational necessities and always the objectives of their mission were paramount. Investigator Celeris could be seen moving around the bunker practically skipping, as compared to the measured stride she had used to enter the forward bunker. It would seem that Investigators took setbacks extremely badly and was now in the process of extricating some form of revenge on those that had inflicted such ignominy on her. Perhaps it was the training that taught her that Sol Invictus had tasked her with holy missions that had so unhinged her. The temerity of rebels who had no heavenly intervention frustrating the will of an all-powerfu
l god must have shaken her faith to the point where she either felt as though her religion was false or this was a trial of her faith. Evidently she had decided that the trial was one of inflicting suffering on those that would so sorely insult her god and holy mission. General Hostilius himself had started falling to the other side of the fence, for how could a mission the inception of which came from Sol Invictus himself possibly fail? How could the compound suffering of men who, though mistaken in their actions, had fought bravely with valour utilising brilliantly those weapons at their command? There was no real resolution to these questions for General Hostilius, especially when Investigator Celeris was practically taunting him with the suffering of those in the opposing lines. The effects of the gas had become apparent for many of the rebels who had breathed in the noxious gasses made their way over their own lines, knowing that time was short. They hoped to throw themselves on the mercy of the Empire and gain medical aid for the agony that suffused their mortal remains. The comm.-link carried their screams for aid through to the bunker with crystal clarity. The first few had been shot immediately, for the soldiers had thought the rebels had instigated a retaliatory advance. This proved not to be the case as white flags were seen carried by those that made the walk into the gap between the two lines. As the men advanced they were seen stopping doubled up in agony, stopping to either spit or vomit before continuing. Investigators Celeris had ordered that such men not be fired upon. General Hostilius was surprised for he had not dared hope to see mercy in the actions of the Investigator in the throws of her madness. She had also ordered the advancing men contained and medical units dispatched to strap them to gurneys. General Hostilius had at that point tried to re-evaluate the Investigator. Perhaps the gas was a tool to further weaken the rebels so that they could be cured and tried for their crimes; perhaps this was the mercy of Sol Invictus in action.
General Hostilius’ hopes were quickly dashed when Investigator Celeris had ordered him to accompany her to the enclosure where the former rebels were to be housed. Rows of beds lined the tent each with the affected men strapped securely to them.
“See General, for whilst Sol Invictus passes judgement through me they shall not escape their fate by the hands of our men. If they advance and they are shot, then they are mercifully released from that which I have inflicted upon them. As we deceive them into the hope of medical attention we contain them here so that they may not seek an alternative end to the holy suffering they so deserve. They shall be contained here and they will feel the full horror of their choice to reject Sol Invictus’ will.”
General Hostilius could see the fronts of the grey urban camouflage uniforms stained black with bile and blood. The convulsions spreading the spray of internal fluids past the confines of the bed. Screams were muted by gurgling as those no longer strong enough to turn their heads or spray the blood from their lungs slowly drowned in the source of their own agony. Chunks of flesh occasionally flew from the mouths of those strapped to the beds as the lungs tore themselves apart under the influence of the gas that had been unleashed on their lines. The noxions were slowly ripping the rebels to pieces from inside with the force of their own reactions to the toxins.
To compound the horror of such a scene of mass carnage and agony there were to the side of each bed, a camera relentlessly recording each spasm and convulsion. Each fleck of blood that passed the lips of a rebel was recorded for posterity so that this tirade of human suffering could be replayed again and again. The screams of the death and dying and the death rattles of each man giving in to that eternal rest for which he had been perversely craving for days would exist in the Imperial archives for all time.
“It is not enough that each of these men should suffer the torments of the flesh. We must cause those rebels that remain to understand the anger of Sol Invictus at their actions. The replays of these cameras will shortly be transmitted to every speaker and comm.-link in the rebel positions. They shall see that which will befall them.” gloated Investigator Celeris.
Calidius Squad held their position at the edge of Jerusalem, the majesty of the historic vista having grown somewhat cold. Thankfully they had been left alone by the Black Guard who were moving with purpose transporting a number of packs into the city. When he had enquired as to the purpose of this Lieutenant Gratius was told in no uncertain terms that the movements were classified and he was to keep his men clear of the city. This was an order Lieutenant Gratius was all too pleased to follow.
“Why are we waiting here Sir? I mean we were just attacked within sight of this location and we could be again. Personally, I’d just keep moving.” Sergeant Curtius was never at his best in enforced stillness when there were objectives to be fulfilled.
“Our orders are to hold here and contain the prisoners while whatever the objective the Black Guard has been given is completed.” Lieutenant Gratius knew all too well the curiosity that would be in the minds of his men as the location of Jerusalem was all too important to those who opposed the Empire and its persecution of alternative religions.
The combination of a mass transit of prisoners and a secret operation within Jerusalem itself was an odd combination which had kept Lieutenant Gratius wondering for the march. A top-secret mission should be done with the least number of witnesses, for leaks could come even from within the prisoners. If the attack they endured as they had approached Jerusalem had resulted in the escape of even one prisoner from the convoy, then who knew what intelligence they would have gleaned from listening virtually unnoticed in the column. They would easily have picked up that something big was planned for Jerusalem, for why else would the entire convoy be routed here? After all would not it have been easier just to transport them over the Mediterranean on board ship or on an aircraft where it would be highly unlikely they would affect an escape, unlike on a long march through hostile terrain? It was not beyond the realms of possibility that the Empire had merely determined that as it had two objectives using transports was simply not energy efficient - so decided to combine the two. Lieutenant Gratius dismissed this possibility as the troops present would have had to have been requisitioned from around the planets of the Empire; the energy cost simply to transport them must have been phenomenal. There was something going on, that he did not understand. There was some implicit aspect of this mission that he was missing. It all centred on the prisoners, and Jerusalem. The troops were perhaps just a means to an end. Why would the Empire want the prisoners here of all places?
Sergeant Curtius was used to certain parts of his missions being on a need to know basis, but he was unused to being forced to wait around in potentially hostile territory while the Black Guard got on with the classified part of the mission. It did not seem all that complicated; all they did was carry boxes into the city and come out empty handed, and they had been doing this for a day and a half. Aculeo did not trust them at all. If they had all of that storage space why hadn’t they packed it with rations and water to cover the event of a sandstorm? These crates could have been dropped off here separately by the local garrison. The rumours of the Black Guards lack of anything resembling morals of propriety were astounding. The messy, grey level operations were all the Black Guard. At least the Investigators, as a general rule, left you alone unless they were investigating you specifically, or you were stupid enough to get in their way. On the plus side, with the city off limits, there was no prospect of being forced by the Investigators’ authority to attend another service at the Temple. Whatever was in those crates was bad news and Sergeant Curtius had made sure that all of the Squad had been warned not to have anything to do with the crates or the Black Guard if they could help it. There was however a way to see if there was anything that could cause his Squad a problem. He went in search of Halberdier Galbinius, although he was almost entirely self-centred he was at least capable of understanding that his survival was linked to that of the Squad. He was also able to keep his mouth shut, which, if Aculeo was going to attempt to find out about those crates, would be an
advantage.
“Gurges, get over here.” Aculeo hissed at the sniper.
“What Sarge?” the urgency and secrecy inherent in Aculeo’s voice had carried over, thankfully.
“For the purposes of this conversation it’s Aculeo. This is an unofficial conversation, got it?”
“Sure Sar... Aculeo. Are you in the market for something?”
“No,… I’m looking to get some Intel on something we shouldn’t be looking at. Can you use your scope, not attached, to get a look at those crates and let me know if there’s anything I should know about them?”
“Well I could but …” Gurges made the universal gesture for money by rubbing his fingers together suggestively.
“No money, something’s wrong, I need to know to keep all of your asses out of the fire. Got me? Feel free to say no, but I’m not going to pay you.”
“If you put it like that Aculeo, I’ll give it a go. I’ve got to be careful though. I’ll only be able to do quick glances; I’ll have to look like I’m cleaning my gear so I can’t just point the scope at the crates and keep it there.”