'By the Emperor, this is worse than Pavonis, and I thought that was bad,' said Pasanius.
Uriel nodded in agreement. The darkness beneath the world had been terrible, but this grotesque mockery of the gift of life was almost too much to countenance. The blasphemy of the tyranids was beyond measure and he could not fathom how a race that gave nothing back to the universe, that lived only to consume, could be allowed to come into existence.
'What is Pavonis?' asked Henghast.
'A world on the eastern fringe, but that is a tale for another day,' said Uriel.
'I shall hold you to that promise, brother-captain. I will need a saga of your bravery to take back with me to the Fang.'
Uriel was struck by the undiminished optimism of the Deathwatch. Despite their losses and the scale of the task before them, not one had uttered a single sentiment that suggested that they did not believe utterly that they would prevail.
He slapped a palm on Henghast's shoulder guard and said, 'When we return to Tarsis Ultra I shall share the victory wine with you and tell you all about Pavonis.'
'Wine! Pah, wine is for women. We will drain a barrel of Fenrisian mead and you will wake with a hangover like continents colliding.'
'I look forward to it,' said Uriel as Pasanius raised his hand.
Uriel joined his sergeant at the head of their column, listening as the boom of multiple hearts and other, less obvious organs rambled close by. A low-ceilinged chamber with a heaving sphincter muscle at its centre rasped with tendrils of ochre vapours gusting through it. Booming echoes rang from the fleshy walls.
'I believe we are close, brother-captain. The sounds converge on this place,' said Pasanius.
'I think you're right, my friend, but where is it coming from?'
Brother Henghast entered the chamber and removed his helmet, coughing briefly before his enhanced respiratory system was able to adapt to the toxic atmosphere.
'What are you doing?' demanded Uriel. 'Put your helmet back on!'
Henghast cocked his head to one side and whispered, 'Auto-senses are all well and good, but my own are better.'
The Space Wolf sniffed the air, his features twitching as he filtered the smells and sounds of the hive ship with senses more sensitive than even Uriel's. The Ultramarine's senses had been enhanced by the Apothecaries of his Chapter, but were still no match for those of a Space Wolf.
'The heartbeats are strongest from this passage,' said Henghast, replacing his helmet and standing clear to allow Pasanius to proceed. Uriel said, 'Well done, Brother Henghast.'
As they proceeded along this new passage, wisps of smoke filled the air and the sound of monstrous hearts beating in counterpoint grew louder and louder. The glow of Pasanius's flamer silhouetted his sergeant and cast a flickering blue glow around the dripping walls of the passage.
They followed the twisting passage for several kilometres until a sickly green glow replaced that of the flamer. The passageway angled downwards, gradually widening until Uriel could see and hear the booming organs whose noise they had been following.
Larger than super-heavy tanks, the pair of thudding hearts pulsed with massive intra-muscular motion, pumping life-sustaining fluids around the hive ship. Uriel fought the urge to open fire. Kryptman had warned him that these organs would be protected by metres of tough, fibrous skin and that there were sure to be others that could take over.
Hissing organisms prowled the chamber beyond, but whether they were aware of them yet, he could not say.
Uriel and the Deathwatch crouched at the end of the smoky passageway, staring into the heart of the hive ship.
They had reached the reproductive chambers of the Norn Queen.
Snowdog grimaced in pain as Jonny hauled him upstairs, hearing the booming impacts against the door below. His head hurt and his ribs felt like he'd gone ten rounds with a Space Marine. He glanced down the stairs.
'Where's Sister Joaniel?' he gasped.
'Dunno,' said Jonny without breaking his stride. 'I guess she's dead.'
'What?'
'Yeah,' confirmed Jonny, 'she shut the door behind us.'
'She shut the door?'
'Yeah.'
Snowdog mentally shrugged. It was a shame she was dead, but if she was crazy enough to try and take on the entire tyranid race, then that was no concern of his. Crashing thumps on the door below made him glad she'd shut the door. He wasn't sure he'd have trusted Jonny to remember to do it. The door was armoured, but with these monsters, you couldn't count on any barrier holding for too long.
'Where are the others?'
'Upstairs I guess. Why you got to ask so many questions?' said Jonny.
'Because that's how I find things out,' snapped Snowdog, regretting it instantly as the pain in his ribs flared bright and urgent.
They rounded another landing and Snowdog could have sworn that there hadn't been this many stairs before. As his senses began returning to normal, he heard a soft pattering, like a wind-chime in a strong breeze, and wondered what it was. He realised a second later and cried out in alarm.
'Jonny! Stop! Stop!' he yelled. 'Turn around!'
'Huh?' said Jonny, but complied.
Snowdog moaned in frustration as he saw a cascade of gold, silver and precious stones forming a glittering trail back down the stairs. He wriggled free from Jonny's grasp and painfully shucked the backpack from his shoulders as the crashes on the door below became even more frenzied.
The backpack had saved him from the worst of Lex's bomb sure enough, but it was in a hell of a mess for having done so. Everything he'd taken from the wreck was spilling through long, burnt tears in the canvas. There was barely anything left.
He began transferring the remainder into his pockets, hearing the scream of buckling metal from below. He heard a footfall on the stairs behind him, but ignored it as he continued to stuff precious stones into his pockets.
'Hey, Trask,' said Jonny.
Snowdog felt his blood chill and reached for his pistol, but it was too late.
He heard the rack of a shotgun slide and rolled to one side, yelling in pain as the splintered ends of his ribs ground together.
But the shot wasn't aimed at him. Jonny Stomp toppled to the stairs, a halo of blood splattered on the wall behind him.
Snowdog squinted through a haze of tears of pain and raised his pistol.
Trask kicked him in the face. He felt teeth break and spat blood.
'You and me got some unfinished business, Snowdog,' said Trask.
The sight of the Norn Queen was something that Uriel would never forget for as long as he lived. The creature was massive, easily the size of a Battle Titan, its bulk filling the chamber with countless means of producing its monstrous offspring. A vast, mucus-ribbed tube hung from the walls, pulsing with disgusting motion and dripping great swathes of egg sacs to a slime filled pool where nurse organisms carried them away in great, scooped pincers.
Huge pools of protoplasmic ooze bubbled and burst with motion as screeching infant beasts were drooled from its surface along bony chutes to begin growing almost as soon as they hit the ground. Thousands of gelatinous incubation larvae hung from resinous mucus on the great arched ceiling, supported on huge ribs of bone, each thicker than the columns in the Temple of Correction on Macragge. Stinking fluids coated the floor and foetid steam gusted from millions of tiny orifices in the walls. Ropes of dripping intestine and nutrients pumped viscous fluids into the belly of the Norn Queen, its vast, bloated head fused with the ribbed ceiling of the chamber. Six-legged creatures that resembled fat spiders crawled all over its body, cleaning, feeding and ministering to their queen. Huge javelin-like spines protruded from her bony carapace, each dripping with hissing poisons.