The Red Frontier: Wrath of the Vanquished

Chapter 41: Head-On Assault

Lothrak took a deep breath just before they charged, trying to repress his fear. Gripping his plasma greatsword tight in his armour's hand, he turned the energy field on and, as his fellow Wardens charged around the corner alongside the humans, he heard Qolvar roar over the thrumming of jet engines and the rhythmic pounding of the knights' feet.

"Forward, my brothers! Let us crush these alien filth in the name of our Order!"

The three knights barrelled around the corner, holding their shields high as the sound of gunfire blasted through their eardrums. But they didn't sit still and take what was coming their way for long. Over the brim of his shield, Lothrak watched the humans under Kormac Telgaiur's command charge forward and attack the anti-tank teams, leaving the War Mechs unsupported.

Anticipation rocketed through all three Xan-Klar's minds as they saw this, and as one, they fired up their back mounted jet engines and charged towards the War Mechs. Lothrak felt his muscles lock up and his innards judder inside him as he surged straight at his target, bracing for impact. The proud warriors of the Fireheart Wardens then all echoed each other's words in a thundering battle cry.

"For the Empire!!!"

With a sickening jolt, Lothrak felt his neck head whip backwards, the tips of his horns bashing against the inside of his cockpit. His gaze went blurry for just a moment as he slammed straight into something hard and metallic. As his sight cleared, he stopped seeing triple and beheld clear as day.

He had shunted the War Mech backwards across the ground, his dented shield planted into the machine's chest. A great swathe of tarmac had been ripped up as he and the Sirthon had both slid across the ground, but neither of them had been knocked over.

His opponent seemed stunned, still stand but not moving, with his stocky mechanical arms by its sides. Thinking quickly, Lothrak pulled his shield-arm back and swung his plasma sword down, hacking at the bulky body of the War Mech at the point where he thought the cockpit would be.

The burning green blade arced into his opponent's metal-shod body, a shrieking explosion sound blasting as the plasma scorched into the metal, and the reeking stench of boiling vapour filled the air around him. However, the weapon didn't go all the way through, the metal behind the plasma cleaving through wires and pistons as the energy burned the armour away, only to get jammed in the mech's robust construction.

If Lothrak didn't act, he could lose his weapon.

Wrenching his sword free, he pulled it back and prepared to thrust it into the Sirthon War Mech's body. However, his opponent suddenly lifted his own right arm and threw a left hook straight at the head of Lothrak's armour. Lifting his shield, Lothrak parried the blow at the last second, only for his heart to jolt in his chest as he saw the mech's other hand hurl a punch as well.

Lothrak felt his horns slam against the back of his cockpit as a massive force slammed against his right flank, knocking him about in his seat as his head whiplashed backwards. His lungs felt empty, his throat opening wide as he tried to breathe, his clawed hands clinging desperately to the controls.

Gasping as he looked up, Lothrak saw the War Mech wind up another punch – a great haymaker that was aimed at his armour's head. A jolt of vigour suddenly rushing through him, the Xan-Klar acted on instinct, ducking backwards and leaning to the side. The War Mech's punch sped towards him, missing its target by millimetres as Lothrak dodged out the way in the nick of time.

As his opponent's punch sailed past him, Lothrak flicked his gaze down. In that moment, he saw that his opponent was leaning forward on his right leg, leaving his left leg, which was thinly armoured, exposed. Recalling his training, Lothrak lifted his sword and swung it downwards, the blade's energy field slashing into the wires and pistons of the War Mech's left leg.

As the glowing green energy plasma bit and burned through metal, sparks flew everywhere, the crackling fizzle of electricity filling the air. And, with a loud, oscilliating drone, The Sirthon War Mech staggered forward. Stumbling, it turned around to face Lothrak, but it was moving with a limping maimed gait.

A quick smile cracked across Lothrak's face. Now he had the advantage. As the War Mech lifted its arms and pointed it guns at him, Lothrak charged forward, shots ringing in his ears as closed the distance between him and his enemy to avoid being shot.

To his sides, he saw his other Wardens crush their foes with contemptuous ease. To his right, Kathonir blocked his opponent's blow and instantly counterattacked, Skullripper's spike embedding itself deep in the War Mech's body. Then Kath yanked his warhammer. As his mech collapsed around him, the Sirthon pilot ejected, launching himself into the air like an airman from a jet fighter cockpit.

It was all for naught, however, as Qolvar flew upwards with him, as if he were expecting this to happen. With one knife-handed swipe, he swatted the Sirthon from the air like a fly. Purple gore spilled everywhere as the terrorist pilot was pulverised instantly, pieces of him raining down onto the street below.

***

Marcus lifted his SMG's sights up to his eye and squeezed the trigger, a hail of plasma shots blasting across the street. A small group of Sirthon were backing away into one of the alleyways, trying to escape as they saw the Xan-Klar Knights crush two of their War Mechs.

They didn't get far. As they turned tail and ran, Marcus' volley of projectiles ripped clean through their bodies, killing them near-instantly.

Grimacing inside his helmet, Major Winter scanned the area. The fight was less intense, but still raging inward all around him. The Xan-Klar Knights had taken down their targets, and were now dealing with the last of the anti-tank teams, slashing at the Sirthon scurrying around their legs and crushing them underfoot. Meanwhile, the Sirthon rest of the Sirthon had run for cover, and were now engaged in an intense firefight with the Orbital Commandos.

Just then, the Horusan suddenly heard a voice in his ear. A voice that shouted his name – not out of panic, but to merely be heard over the clamour of battle.

"Marcus!"

The Horusan turned his head to see one of his Orbital Commandos jetting towards him. As she landed, her helmet opened, revealing her bright blue eyes and a few loose locks of black hair. Jennifer.

"Jenn!" Marcus replied, raising his voice. "We need to clear this place up fast! The truck's getting away!" As he spoke, he flitted his gaze down the street.

"I know!" Jenn replied. "But... aah!" His second-in-command suddenly cried out as a red-hot laser blast ripped across her chest, burning a line along the surface of her armour. Twisting her head, Jenn 's eyes immediately locked onto some more Sirthon who were taking cover around a distant street corner. As she did so, she kept her helmet open, her icy blue eyes like daggers as she zoned in on the alien terrorists, raised her weapon to her eyes and fired.

Three bursts of plasma shot through the air, the ear-splitting crack of the shots breaking the sound barrier ripping through Marcus' skull. As Jennifer's shots peppered the Sirthon, the group ducked into cover and two of them fell dead, their chests burst open as the plasma ruptured their skin, scorched their flesh and burned their skeletons black.

Marcus watched this, then raised his voice into the comms. "You stay here with the others and mop everything up!" He ordered firmly. "I'm going after Haraq!"

Jenn looked at him, a brief spark of concern flashing across her face, but dissipating as she nodded at him.

"Alright," she replied. "You go, Major. We've got this covered!"

Marcus nodded at her, opening his helmet for a brief moment to look at Jenn eye-to-eye. Then, his visor shutting, Marcus spun around, crouched slightly, and pushed himself into the air. His armour's thrusters immediately fired up, streaks of bright blue jetting out from his body as the human leapt upwards into the air and soared forward. He moved with blinding speed, wilfully enduring the pain and stress of the acceleration as he went to save what he had been charged to protect... and to avenge those under his command.