'What is this place?' asked Pasanius as the shutter doors of one of the warehouse buildings screeched open and a host of the shambling mutant things they had killed earlier emerged. Behind them came a pathetic, shuffling mass of humanity, their heads cast down and their bodies swathed in baggy, flesh-coloured robes.
'Some kind of prison?' ventured Uriel, as the mutants herded the prisoners towards the gates of the camp. Were all these buildings filled with prisoners? The great daemonic head on the tower turned on grinding cogs to face the hundreds-strong column, huge streams of flame belching from its eyes. A booming voice roared from its mouth, speaking a language Uriel did not understand, but which sent aching spasms through his joints and muscles, as though the sound resonated within the darkest recesses of his brain.
The prisoners marched through the camp, the mutants stabbing at them with crackling prods and beating them with iron-tipped cudgels. The Iron Warriors marched ahead of the column, hideously perverted bolters carried across their breastplates. As they approached, the gate squealed open, the corpses hanging from it jittering in a grotesque imitation of life.
'Where are they taking them?' wondered Uriel.
'Oh, Emperor, no,' whispered Pasanius. 'They're taking them—'
'To be skinned alive…' finished Uriel as he saw that the prisoners were not swathed in baggy robes at all, but were all completely naked to the elements. Their flesh hung in huge flaps from their bodies, stretched beyond all normal proportions by some unknown means. Encrusted dewlaps drooped from emaciated arms, chests, legs and buttocks. Men and women clutched fold upon fold of stretched skin to their bodies for fear it would trip them, sagging bellies and drained teats hanging like empty sacks of dried leather from their wasted frames.
'They're taking them to the skinning platform. No, no…' said Uriel. 'But why?'
'Does it matter?' snarled Pasanius, gripping his flamer tightly his silver finger hovering over the ignition key. 'We can't let this horror go unpunished!'
Uriel nodded, feeling his hatred for the Iron Warriors reach new heights, but he forced himself to try and remain calm. To attack this column was suicide, they were directly in front of the bunkers and the gun tower, not to mention three Iron Warriors.
But to let such an affront against humanity go unmolested? To allow these traitors to butcher these people as though they were no more than animals?
Pasanius was right, such evil would not stand.
He could see righteous anger in Pasanius's eyes, but also something else, something darker. Uriel saw the light of a zealot in his battle-brother's eyes, the light of one who goes to battle with a death wish, where survival is irrelevant.
Was there more to Pasanius's desire to fight than the obvious reasons of humanity?
It seemed to Uriel that there was, but such were questions for when, or if, they lived through the next few minutes.
Uriel drew his sword, his thumb hovering over the activation rune.
He gripped Pasanius's shoulder guard and said, 'If we do not survive, then it has been an honour to call you my friend.'
Pasanius nodded, but did not reply, his gaze never wavering from the approaching column of slaves, mutants and Iron Warriors.
His eyes suddenly narrowed and he nodded at something over Uriel's shoulder. 'What in the name of the Emperor?'
Uriel turned and saw a number of figures moving stealthily through the high crags that surrounded the camp.
'Are these the things that have been tracking us through the mountains?'
'No,' said Pasanius. 'I don't think so. They look like…'
'Space Marines!' breathed Uriel as he saw two figures in green power armour rise from behind a cluster of boulders and aim missile launchers towards the camp. The Iron Warriors below had not noticed the figures moving above them and Uriel realised with wild enthusiasm that this must surely be an ambush!
A pair of missiles shot from the Space Marines' weapons and slashed towards the leftmost bunker, slamming into the rockcrete and obscuring it in a bright explosion of fire and smoke. Another flashing pair of contrails hammered into the opposite bunker from somewhere high above Uriel and Pasanius and the second bunker vanished in a fiery explosion.
Prisoners screamed and Iron Warriors bellowed commands at the mutant herders as more warriors in power armour emerged from hiding now that the trap was sprung. Bolter shells stitched an explosive path through the prisoners, blood and screams filling the air as they died. More missiles shot out and exploded against the bunkers, and Uriel heard the crack of stonework collapsing under the onslaught.
'Let's go!' shouted Uriel, activating his sword and charging from cover towards the panicked column of prisoners. Pasanius was quick to follow him, a blue flame leaping to life on the end of his weapon.
Uriel saw an Iron Warrior clubbing a prisoner with the butt of his gun and aimed his charge towards him. The warrior was a full head and shoulders above Uriel, his armour spiked and daubed with unclean symbols. A pair of curved and looping horns sprouted from his helmet and he carried a brutal sword with screaming, serrated teeth. He spun, hearing Uriel's wild charge and raised his weapon, but it was already too late. Uriel slashed his sword through the Iron Warrior's breastplate, drawing a spray of black blood and a roar of pain from his foe.
Pasanius sprayed a sheet of flame across a second Iron Warrior, one with mechanised, snapping claws for hands and an explosion ripped through the prisoners as a fuel-filled tank on the Chaos Marine's back detonated.
Uriel heard the roar of bolter fire from above, seeing scores of warriors in different coloured power armour charging from their concealment. He swayed aside as the Iron Warrior swung his sword in a graceless arc meant to behead him and slashed his sword around at his flank, cutting a full handspan into his armour. More missiles speared out from the spires, slamming into the towering daemon head and rocking it back. Thick cable stays snapped and whipped around in slashing arcs as the daemon tower roared.
Heavy calibre shells ripped from its mouth, tearing great gouges in the earth as they sprayed through the camp, striking friend and foe alike. The mutants in rubberised body suits jabbed the prisoners back to the camp, drawing blood and piteous cries from their wretched charges.
The Iron Warrior roared in anger, stepping forward to smash his fist against Uriel's chest. His strength was phenomenal, even for one genetically engineered to be stronger, and Uriel was hurled back, skidding through the ash as his attacker raised his sword two-handed to deliver the deathblow. He drew his pistol and squeezed off two shells, both ricocheting from the Iron Warrior's armour.
'Now you die, renegade!' bellowed the traitor.
Uriel rolled aside as the screaming sword hacked into the ground, kicking out at the Iron Warrior's kneecap. He roared as he struck, putting his entire strength behind the blow, feeling his foe's armour splinter and the knee shatter into fragments. The Iron Warrior howled and dropped to the ground. Uriel didn't give him a chance to recover and stepped in, driving his sword clean through the Iron Warrior's chest.
The warrior seized his neck and chuckled, a throaty death rasp, and Uriel felt the immense strength in the grip. He twisted the blade, spurts of blood spraying his hands as the wound tore wider. The Iron Warrior's grip on his neck tightened and he heard a joint in his gorget pop and crack as his dying foe sought to choke the life from him. Uriel slammed his fist into the side of the warrior's helmet again and again, pounding his skull to destruction until he finally released his grip.
Uriel staggered back from the dead Iron Warrior, seeing the Space Marines storming through the open gateway in the razorwire fence. The bunkers were smoking ruins, their interiors like abattoirs. Gunfire blasted from the daemonic tower, ripping through the ranks of the attacking Space Marines. Some fell, but most picked themselves up before ducking into whatever cover they could find. Mutants fled before the wrath of the attackers, but they were cut down without mercy, hacked to death with swords or beaten to death with armoured gauntlets.