Chapter 60: The Stalemate

Chapter 60: The Stalemate

Just as the residents of Preston Hive were settling into their monotonous daily lives, a sudden, deafening BOOM! shattered the peace.

The sound was a single, massive thunderclap that shook the very foundations of the hive, causing every heart to clench in terror.

In the Upper Hive and the Spire, countless citizens looked up in panic. They saw the Sky-Hook, the engineering marvel that connected their hive to the starport, snap in mid-air, torn apart by an invisible, irresistible force.

The Sky-Hook. The hive world's proudest miracle of engineering, a vital link to the void. It was a symbol of technology from the Dark Age, the city's bridge to the stars. Now, it was the source of their doom.

The central section of the elevator, utterly obliterated, rained down from the sky. Debris, from pebbles to the size of entire hab-blocks, fell at terrifying speeds, impacting the hive-city below with deafening, ground-shaking roars.

Residents scattered in panic, but many could not escape. The streets filled with screams. Windows shattered, sending razor-sharp shards of plasteel and glass-crete flying. Unlucky citizens were impaled, their cries of agony lost in the din.

Far above the panic, in the starport's command center, Lord of the Forged Petros held a war council. They had successfully seized the station, but their victory had turned to ash. They were trapped.

The tension in the dimly-lit briefing room was palpable. Petros sat at the head of the table, his eyes scanning his brothers.

"We are in a stalemate," Petros's low voice broke the silence. "We cannot remain here."

"We need a new plan. The original plan—a direct strike down the Sky-Hook to seize Preston Hive and decapitate the Governor—is now scrap. The enemy pre-rigged the elevator to self-destruct."

He turned to his Ship-Master. "Barnabas, explain the situation."

Barnabas nodded. "We hold the starport, but with the Sky-Hook gone, we are cut off from the surface. The station is now, effectively, an isolated satellite.

"That's not the worst of it. The station is in low orbit, well within the engagement-envelope of the planetary defense weapons. An hour ago, the ground-based defense lances fired on us. The station's void shields held. Their ground-fire cannot break our shields."

He looked at Petros. "However, the planet also has its own shield. Their defenses aren't strong—just enough to deter a small pirate fleet. Unfortunately, we are a small pirate fleet. With our current flotilla, we cannot overload their planetary shield. If we bring our ships in for a low-orbit bombardment, the ground-based guns will tear us apart."

"In short," Barnabas concluded, "it's a perfect stalemate. We can't get in, and they can't get us out."

The room was silent as the brothers processed this. Sergeant Thor, Captain of the First Squad, spoke first. "We launch a full-scale atmospheric assault. Use the captured freighters and transports as a decoy-screen. While they absorb the ground-fire, our Thunderhawks and the Storm Eagle break through at high speed."

Petros shook his head. "We don't have the pilots. The station-pilots are prisoners, and I don't trust them. The moment the enemy sees an Astartes gunship, they will ignore the decoys and concentrate all fire. I will not waste our air-assets, and I will not waste my brothers. We are not the Iron Warriors, to be thrown away as cannon-fodder."

Sergeant Vornab spoke next. "A more... aggressive solution. We use the starport's own defense batteries. A sustained, close-range bombardment to shatter a section of their planetary shield. Then, we land in the breach."

Again, Petros shook his head. "The enemy won't give us that much time. Their astropaths are already screaming for help. We have to be fast. And our objective is to control this planet, not reduce it to rubble."

It was the neophyte, Randolph, who spoke next. "My Lord, the Drop Pods. We can perform a low-velocity insertion, allowing the pods to drift through the shield."

Even Barnabas scoffed at that. "And what happens when you're through, neophyte? You think they won't see you? A Drop Pod is 'small' relative to a cruiser, not to a lascannon-turret. They will swat you from the sky like a fly. That tactic only works with hundreds of pods, to saturate their defenses. We don't have the pods, and we don't have the bodies to waste."

Petros listened to the arguments, his mind racing. But something Randolph said... small.

"Phelon," Petros suddenly asked. "How many jump packs do we have?"

The Warpsmith, surprised, ran a quick inventory. "Fifteen, my Lord. The ones we got from Daedalos, for the servitor-stock we harvested."

Petros's mind began to calculate. "Fifteen... that might be enough. And the Port-Master's data-slate gave us the exact location of the planetary shield-generator."

He looked up, a cold, determined glint in his eyes.

"Brothers," he said. "I have a... rather stupid tactic. But I believe it will work."