Space Wolf Scout Volstag Dragonclaw takes action against the Night Lords:
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HUNTED
(part 4)
Twilight soon came.
It was mid-spring in this region of Theta-Crom IV and night never truly
fell this time of year. Instead the twilight
would last for hours before becoming dawn again.
The scout craft Void Stalker was exactly where they’d
left it days before, landed in the clearing of a wooded valley ten kilometers
from Tundra Station. Approaching from
the rough terrain at this distance allowed the wolf scouts to come in quietly
and unseen. The valley was also an
easily defensible position, if it ever came to that. And now that Volstag was returning as a potential
attacker on that position, the shuttle’s hiding spot set him at a disadvantage.
But his stealth was unmatched by
man or beast on this icy world, and he came close enough to the small scout
vessel to assess the situation undetected.
There were two PDF troopers standing outside the ship, trudging a path
through the fresh snow as they paced in circles. Only
two? Volstag thought. The patrol
he’d killed and another he’d silently passed by were both made up of five
troopers, and he had yet to see a Night Lord Space Marine out looking for
him. Five troopers against a single,
naked, unarmed Space Marine was almost reasonable. But only two?
Either Abaenon was betting on his not coming as far as the Stalker, and thus not needed many men to
guard it, or this was a door being deliberately left open for him.
Volstag’s grey eyes scanned the
scene. The ship’s hull was frosted by a
thin layer of snow, interrupted at the rear boarding hatch. The snow there had been knocked free, which
meant the hatch had been opened recently.
It was doubtful that the PDFs had the technical ability to force their
way in, though the Night Lords might.
Aside from the path worn by the two men patrolling, there were several
other disturbances in the snow that had been footprints not long ago. It was difficult to tell from his hiding
spot, but it seemed to the wolf scout that some of those footprints could have
been made by large armored feet, as opposed to the thin boots of
poorly-equipped mortal troops. Coming
back to the ship was the most logical course of action for the lone Space
Wolf. Most likely the pair of troopers
outside was meant to be an obstacle easily overcome. They expected Volstag to kill theses two and
go straight inside his ship, where there was no doubt a waiting cadre of Night
Lords bearing the arms and armor of real warriors. This whole scene stunk of a trap.
Literally. The wind scattering snow through the trees
carried a new scent to his nostrils. Volstag’s keen eyes quickly scanned the
forest up-wind. A tiny red light winked
at him, flared, and then swung around in an arc. Some idiot trooper was smoking a lho stick.
“Who the hell is that?” a harsh
voice whispered.
Volstag crouched low. The speaker was close by.
“I’ll take care of this,” said another.
“Do it quietly,” the first commanded.
Something heavy crunched through
the forest ten meters from Volstag’s position.
He saw the faint gleam of twilight on ceramite armor. A Night Lords Chaos Marine was moving away
from him toward the smoker. More armored
figures rustled in their positions. Volstag’s
eyes adjusted and focused on two more Night Lords in hiding. One wore a winged helmet and had a boltgun in
hand, the other was bulkier with a chainsword propped on his shoulder. The faint smell of promethium told Volstag
that the bulk was a jump pack that hadn’t fired in a while.
Two Chaos Marines only ten meters
away. How had he missed them? You’re
allowing yourself to get distracted, old man, he told himself. Although, the Night Lords were hit and run experts. It seemed he had underestimated their own stealth
and patience.
As an experienced scout, Volstag
could wait in silence indefinitely. Then
again, while the mortal PDFs would eventually tire, the Chaos Marines would not
and when the sun rose he’d be trapped in the valley with Emperor knew how many
enemies. The time to act was now.
Seconds,
he told himself. This must be done in seconds.
Volstag crept closer. His targets were watching the third Night
Lord on his way up the hill to deal with the smoker.
There were mumbled words where the
lho stick ember burned, the red glow flashing around as the trooper tried to
explain himself with panicky gestures, then the crack of an armored gauntlet
against flesh and bone. The pair here
chuckled.
That was his cue. Volstag leapt from hiding and drove a bayonet
down hard through the back of one Chaos Marine’s neck, the blade penetrating
the thin, flexible armor joint there and severing the spinal cord at the first
two vertebra. The second Night Lord, the
raptor, reacted quicker than Volstag had expected and his chainsword buzzed to
life and swung down in no time. Volstag
dodged under the whirring teeth and rolled on the ground, coming into a crouch
with his stolen lasrifle in hand. The
raptor cursed loudly and brought his growling weapon around again.
All stealth was lost now. No reason to hold back.
Red lasbolts lit the scene for an
instant at a time, leaving three scars on the Night Lord’s chest plate but
failing to penetrate. The Chaos Marine
laughed at him. “Is that all you have,
Wolf?” he cackled, the eyes of his helmet burning an amused green.
Outside of the immediate fight,
Volstag’s sharp ears picked up cries of excitement all around the valley and
bodies smashing through undergrowth toward their position.
The chainsword swung down
again. Volstag caught it by blocking
with the lasgun in both hands but after a second and a half of sparks, the
sword chewed clean through the PDF rifle.
He fell back, allowing the sword to pass by, then grabbed the Chaos
Marine’s belt, pulled himself up onto his feet, then spun and fired. A bolt pistol round exploded in the back of
the raptor’s head. The green light in
his eyes faded out.
“Yes,” Volstag growled, “that’s all
I had.” When he’d swung himself up by the renegade’s
belt, he’d also taken the pistol from the raptor’s own holster.
More bolter fire. Debris filled the scene like a grenade blast,
shards of rock and tree splinters thrown in every direction by exploding bolt
rounds. The third Night Lord was
charging back down the hill and firing blindly, apparently without concern for
his comrades that might still be down here.
Volstag fired a volley from the
bolt pistol, but not at the on-coming enemies—he fired up a different hill away
from the scene. He then stooped down,
pulled the dead raptor to his feet, aimed him as best he could, and triggered
the jump pack. The armored corpse rocketed
up the other hill in a blazing arc, leaping through and above the canopy of fir
trees, and then crashed back down to earth some distance away. The wolf scout then dropped silently to the
ground and waited.
More weapons fire, this time in the
other direction.
It worked. Whether the enemy believed the Chaos raptor
was in pursuit of his prey or that the wolf himself had stolen the jump pack,
the forces that had been converging toward his position were now all headed up
the other hill in the direction of the human flare. Volstag snatched up the dead renegades’ chainsword,
boltgun, and grenades. He glanced back
at the Void Stalker one last time,
then abandoned all hope of ever getting back aboard his ship.
There was no doubt now: he would
die on this world. But he would not die
alone.
* * *
Volstag's struggle continues tomorrow!
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