Shades of Adrasteia - A Shade of Corax

A SHADE OF CORAX 

A shell struck Sergeant Edvinas’ helmet, splitting it in two and spraying a cloud of gore and bone shards into the air. He dropped to the ground. His body limp and lifeless. His soul now joined Kiril's in the Emperor’s memory, leaving only three of us still among the living. Rounds from heavy bolter placements continued to slam into our position.

The situation was dire. Everything that could have gone wrong, had done. An apocalyptic electrical storm had destroyed half our landing craft and disabled most of the others. Our intel greatly underestimated the Black Legion’s strength planet-side, for a far greater number of the Planetary Defence Force had seemingly turned traitor, by force or by choice was not of importance. Either way they now had their weapons trained on us. Lieutenant Pasi had lost comms with our brothers in orbit and now we were backed into a small corner of a once proud Imperial city.

I heard a click in my vox unit and Ensio’s ident blipped red as he left the channel. Seconds later the ident flashed green swiftly followed by new orders.

-

The Shades of Adrasteia were scions of Corax although circumstances meant that we knew little of our gene-sire or his ways of war. This was a matter some within the Chapter were trying to rectify whilst others continued to adhere rigidly to the ways of the Avenging Son, having been Greyshields in his Indomitus Crusade for a century.

The 3rd Company, in large, was among the former, and despite our misfortune on that tainted world it was only the precious little we knew of the ways of Corvus Corax that allowed us to survive.

-

Our squad withdrew to the shadows cast by the huge buildings within the city in a way I’m sure would have made our father proud. Ensio and I were second generation Shades raised on Zandorax, a place in which survival meant learning to go unseen from an early age. Even with the psycho-indoctrination and behavioural coding of the Primaris program, some skills came more naturally than others.

Dust filled the air and debris littered the streets; the storm still raged overhead blotting out the sunlight. Bolter rounds thudded by and the air hissed with streaks of las-fire. The three of us moved swiftly through alleyways, making our way towards what was left of a scholarium as bolter fire thundered towards the position we had been, and where a larger number of our brothers remained pinned.

Silently taking position overlooking a heavy bolter placement, we waited for the momentary break in fire as the traitors reloaded. We primed our krak grenades and tossed them from the window towards the placement, detonating in tandem with the first new round of fire. The placement erupted with the sound of three krak grenades and the reactors of dozens of heavy bolt rounds exploding at once, drowning out all other sound on the battlefield. As rewarding as the sight of this devastation would have been, we were already moving, weaving our way through the dilapidated streets in search of another target.

Under Ensio’s guidance we were like ghosts. Taking out several more heavy bolter placements, buying our brothers time. All the while Ensio’s ident clicked in and out of the squad’s vox channel relaying new information on enemy positions as we stalked dangerously close to the traitor’s front lines.

We were dangerously low on ammunition and the storms preventing communication or reinforcements still raged. Despite us clawing a potential massacre back to a stalemate over the course of the day, the Black Legion were redoubling their efforts as night fell. Then it happened...

-

I couldn’t see it from our position but we all heard it. A series of explosions rumbled throughout the city like a strangely rhythmic roll of thunder. Confusion swept across traitors and loyalists alike before we realised we were not alone. We had an ally.

The sudden and unexpected break allowed our brothers to redeploy and take up more aggressive positions. We used it to close the gap on an unsuspecting group of traitor guardsmen and Black Legion Astartes.

In an instant the Shades of Adrasteia went from prey to hunter and I could feel a presence I had never encountered before. It was as though spirits of long dead warriors were among us, guiding us. Our Phobos armour allowed us to move faster than the standard MkX so we were on top of the enemy in seconds. Ensio, blade unsheathed, slammed through several guardsmen like they were chaff and straight into a power armoured warrior.

The guardsmen offered little resistance and in spite of their attempt to scatter like rodents from the talons of an apex predator, none were left alive. The Heretic Astartes proved tougher opponents. Despite our physical advantage thanks to our Primaris implants, we were not ignorant of the fact they had millennia of experience we did not have.

Ensio had used the element of surprise to the greatest effect, driving his combat blade into the soft armour just below the helmet of his victim, plunging down into the chest cavity. The foe was forced to its knees with the sheer force behind the attack. A shower of blood gushed from the wound with the removal of the blade. Ensio wrenched its head back by the chin and carved clean through its throat with the blood-soaked blade before kicking the dead heretic face down into the growing pool of claret.

My target was also dispatched. Not with the same ferocity and speed as Ensio but it too lay lifeless. Martti had been wounded in the attack but not so gravely as to force him to stop fighting. His arm hung limp at his side as he parried a blow from the enemy with the vambrace of his other arm. Ensio rounded and closed the gap behind the heretic scum, again targeting the soft armour. His combat knife sliced through the tendons at the back of the foe’s leg. The traitor marine cried out with a guttural agonised howl as it stumbled forward. The opportunity to strike was not lost and the three of us finished the job.

The blood-filled cries of the traitor had caught the attention of other Black Legion marines across the courtyard. Our position compromised, we readied ourselves as they charged. They never reached us. One by one the heretics fell to the ground with the impact of what sounded like some form of bolt round, although from where we could not yet see. I quickly surveyed the surrounding rooftops and windows while cycling through my helm’s various oculus filters. I saw nothing.

-

Our brothers were now taking the fight to the enemy with renewed zeal, pushing forward now that the enemy was fighting on two fronts. Loyalist bolter rounds rang out like hymns to the Emperor himself, driving the traitors into the city with the lieutenant leading the way.

Despite being low on ammunition our squad moved ever further forward whilst relaying vital information on enemy locations, allowing our brothers to execute optimal patterns of attack. It was slow going as the Black Legion were well entrenched, but all the while hearing the tell-tale thump of Cawl pattern bolters emanating from one direction then another. Whoever had joined the fray was giving the traitors hell.

Reaching an intersection, we witnessed a dozen PDF in full terror-filled retreat before most were shot down, each with a single bolt round removing large chunks from their torsos. The remaining few managed to cross the thoroughfare into another street and were instantly met by the unmistakeable sound of chainswords. Their blood curdling cries were barely audible over the buzz and whir of mechanical teeth. With a loud, wet thud, an eviscerated traitors’ corpse was flung back into the street, then silence.

Attracted by the sounds of combat, a full squad of Black Legion rounded the corner into the street, among them was one much larger than the others. A champion of the dark gods carrying a huge axe that crackled with dark energy. Our ally was already on them...

One combat squad of Primaris Marines, just like us, surged from the shadows chainswords ablaze with fury while another squad in skull-faced helms dropped from above. Even with the element of surprise against them the champion still managed to swing his giant axe around with unnatural speed and cleaved one of the skull-helmed Astartes from midriff to shoulder as the lightning energy singed over the armour with malicious intent.

The symbol on the Primaris’ pauldron appeared similar to our own. Ours was a simple white corvidea whereas theirs was winged. One Marine discarded his damaged helmet revealing a pale complexion and jet-black hair much like many within our own chapter. Could they be of Corax’s lineage? We had never encountered another before now, something the younger Astartes in our chapter longed for. Unlike the Terrans who had served for a century with other Terran Greyshields we felt disconnected even within our chapter. We longed for knowledge of Corax. He was our father, not Roboute Guilliman. We had an extended brotherhood and it was not made up of Ultramarines.

Realising this surprise attack was balanced on a knife edge we didn’t hesitate to join the fray. Bolt pistol raised we fired several careful shots into the melee as we charged, allowing one of our allies to strike a killing blow. A simple nod to his side acknowledged the assistance before continuing the fight.

The champion was a monster with two of the Primaris with chainswords struggling to subdue him. The other Black Legionaries were also stronger than expected. Ensio thundered into the side of the distracted champion allowing our allies to strike, but they could not land a killing blow. Martti was cut down. With only one arm of any use, he was no match for such an experienced and ferocious foe in close combat. He was not our last casualty. The fight was even and several fell, enemy and ally alike. With my bolt pistol and blade I cut down one of the traitors before one of the grey clad warriors drove his chainsword through the chest plate to be sure.

Suddenly there was a searing pain in my arm and my body was forced to the ground, then black...

-

I slowly regained consciousness to the sound of medicae servitors clunking about the Apothecarium. My brain was foggy, my body ached and my head felt like it’d been slapped with a power fist. It was then I realised I couldn’t see from my right eye. I tried to reach up to my face... My arm was missing from just above the elbow.

“Welcome back, Brother Dovydas.”

The low voice carrying across the cold room was unmistakeable. Otso, one of the Terrans. A mountain of a man even among the Primaris, reminiscent of the cave dwelling Ursus but with a much better temperament. One of the most senior Apothecaries within the Chapter. He had overseen my induction and indoctrination to the Shades of Adrasteia.

“You suffered heavy trauma. The cranial augmetics have yet to take and have not been activated.”

I looked around the Apothecarium, several of my brothers lay still, draped head to toe with a white cloth. They were at rest. Otso walked over to the bedside while reading from a dataslate, his footsteps surprisingly soft for a giant power armoured soldier.

“Ensio?” I asked fearing the worst. Ensio and I grew up on the same streets, survived the trials and progressed together through the chapter over the next several decades. He was always several steps ahead of everyone else of the same rank.

“No longer with us.”

“Which one?” I asked, gesturing over to the bodies, expecting Otso to point him out.

“No, he still serves the Emperor but he’s no longer active in the chapter.”

“I don’t understand.” audible confusion in my voice.

“That is all I know, Brother. It’s all any of us know save maybe for Captain Karvonen. He’s put an indefinite halt on Ensio’s duty records and he is no longer active within the Shades of Adrasteia.”

-

The interior of the Thunderhawk was incredibly spartan. I took my place in the transport bay, the ramp closed behind me and the machine spirit softly hummed before the engines burst into life with an almost deafening roar. The sound dampeners of my helm struggled to maintain safe levels until the craft left the hangar.

Adrasteia was now my past. I had no idea if it or exactly what was in my future but I was prepared to bring pride to my chapter through my actions and service to the Emperor.

My breath was steady, but the beat of my twin hearts was elevated. Nerves? No. Excitement? Maybe. Eagerness. Certainly. They weren’t Raven Guard but they were of Corax. None from the Shades had encountered another son of Corax until four days ago.

The engines shifted gears and the I heard the thud of the landing struts extending. Lumens along the fuselage began to flash red for the final approach to the Bladed Shadow. I stood to attention with my helmet under my shoulder as the craft touched down and the lumens dimmed. The hydraulics hissed and locks clunked unlocking the pistons from their secured positions and the ramp began to lower.

The bay was dark and quiet. Usually there would be a hive of activity on a ship of this size. However, there was one single figure. My footsteps echoed into the empty bay as I alighted the smaller craft. Instinct told me to survey the environment but in the darkness I saw nothing but the Space Marine.

The figure before me stood tall, another Primaris. His armour was mostly monochrome save for an electric blue trim to the pauldrons and a red right knee pad. As he took a step forward into the dim light emanating from the opening of the Thunderhawk I could see his scarred face was pale, like my own had become since the implants. His eyes, however, were black. So black they seemed to draw in the light and let none escape.

He made the sign of the Aquilla before reaching out one arm and greeting me with a warrior's handshake. From the shadows behind him stepped others. One with the same grey armour as the one greeting me. The others were clad in different liveries and stepped silently.

The Space Marine before me leaned in with a gentle smile...

“Welcome, my Brother.”