Salamander

about to conduct a weapons drill, rather than the fact that possibly the oldest living Salamander in the Chapter resided beneath their feet, a potential link to Isstvan and their lost primarch.

'I'll send word to Argos, have him requisition servitors and a Techmarine to secure the armour,' Agatone replied with almost tangible pragmatism. He didn't need to see the chamber and the stony-seated Brother Gravius. He had other matters to attend to, like the rescue of Captain N'keln, and took his brothers at their word. 'We'll need Apothecary Fugis to move our ancient brother, and we cannot have him until the siege has been broken at the iron fortress,' he added, moving the conversation swiftly on to matters of strategy.

'We cannot breach the orks' lines with the forces we have,' said Dak'ir.

Immediately after the battle, Agatone had sent out scouting forces beyond the perimeter of the encampment to spy on the greenskins, to ascertain numerical strength and forewarn of any further incursions. For now, the orks were focused on N'keln only but their forces were vast. The reports that came back from the reconnoitring troops were bleak.

Agatone considered a hololith projector that showed as accurately as the Salamanders knew the greenskins' dispositions and numbers. It looked like a grainy, dark sea lapping against a tiny bulwark on the strategic imager.

'A lightning attack would be our best option,' he said. 'If we could get amongst the orks before they knew of our presence, kill their leaders and power base, it might be enough to overcome them.'

'The dunes are mainly flat on our approach,' returned Pyriel, 'and offer a clear vantage point to the ork sentries and pickets. I doubt we would get close enough to launch a surprise attack before even the dull-witted greenskins spotted us.'

Agatone scowled, continuing to scrutinise the hololith as if an answer might present itself miraculously.

It did, but not through the means the brother-sergeant had expected.

'Use the tunnels,' a voice said behind them.

The three Salamanders turned to see Illiad, who had yet to take his leave.

'Go on,' coaxed Agatone.

Illiad cleared his throat and took a step forward.

'Throughout this region, there are subterranean tunnels. Some are manmade. We dug them to expand our settlement or seek new veins of ore. It's perilous on account of the chitin and the fact that the Iron Men took up residence in our mine. Some are hewn by the chitin themselves, often deep and wide for their burrows or whilst hunting for food. All the tunnels are linked and they go as far as the iron fortress.'

'To the surface?' asked Dak'ir, pointing upwards as he said it. 'Have you mapped them, Illiad?'

Illiad licked his lips. 'Some do breach the surface, but they are not mapped. Please understand, we have lived in these tunnels for many years, generations even, and all the cartography we will need is up here.' He put a finger to his forehead. 'And not just me,' Illiad added. 'Akuma and several others know the routes intimately too.'

Agatone nodded, his mood improving.

'We can utilise the tunnels to attack the orks directly, even in their midst.' His approving gaze fell upon Illiad. 'Your men can lead us?'

The human nodded. 'I ask only one thing,' he said.

Agatone's silence bade him to continue.

'That you let us fight.'

Dak'ir was about to protest, when Illiad raised his hand.

'Please hear me out,' he said. 'I know this world faces its last days. I have seen it in your faces and heard it in the tone of your voices. Even without that evidence, I have known it for some time. The tremors worsen, and they are not because of the chitin or the overmining. It is because Scoria is slowly breaking apart. Its end nears and I would have my people die fighting for it, rather than huddled in the darkness, waiting for the lava or the earth to claim them.'

Agatone came forwards - his shadow engulfed the human before him - and laid his massive hand on Illiad's shoulder.

'You are noble, Sonnar Illiad, and you will have your wish.' Agatone held out his other hand, offering it to the human settler. 'The Salamanders would be proud to have you at our side.'

Illiad took Agatone's hand, though it almost swallowed his, and sealed the pact of honour that was offered.

'If we can save your people and leave this planet, we will,' said Agatone. 'You shall not be abandoned, left to an ignominious death. We, human and Salamander both, will live or die together. On that you have my word.'

The moment passed and Agatone released the human from his grasp and was all business again.

'How many flamers do we have in the armorium?' he asked Dak'ir.

'Enough for two per squad.'

'Take them all, arm those who are trained to use them,' said Agatone. 'All static heavy weapons are to be stowed. We will burn these greenskin down,' he asserted. 'Then gather the squads together. We'll need every one, even the sentries.'

'Are we leaving the

Vulkan's Wrath

undefended?' asked Dak'ir.

Agatone's face had never been more serious.

'Every one, brother-sergeant. If we fail here, there'll be nothing for the

Vulkan's Wrath

anyway. We'll set up the auxiliaries again and have Argos command them. Our Master of the Forge will not leave his ship, so he can watch over it instead.'

'We will still need a distraction,' suggested Pyriel. 'Something to occupy the greenskins before we launch our assault.'

'Vox Captain N'keln,' Agatone told Dak'ir. 'Tell him of our plan and ensure that he is ready for it. Our brothers in the iron fortress will have to be our distraction.'

Illiad's voice invaded the war council for a second time.

'There may be another way.' Agatone looked down at him.

'You are full of surprises, Sonnar Illiad,' he said, hinted humour breaking his stoic resolve. 'We are listening…'

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I