Storm Of Iron(科幻战争)-第36章

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s　conscious　brain
truly　understood　what　he　was　doing。
A　ragged　cheer　greeted　Tedeski's　arrival　as　he　marched　to　the　head　of　the　bastion；　defiantly　facing　the　enemy　guns。　The　parapet
here　was　cracked　and　sagging；　several　metres　of　rockcrete　missing　from　its　length；　and　Tedeski　had　a　clear　view　of　the　scene
below。
The　two　batteries　were　wreathed　in　clouds　of　thick　grey　smoke；　which　was　periodically　pierced　by　flashes　of　fire。　Screaming
projectiles　slashed　through　the　air　as　a　soldier　unnecessarily　shouted；　'Incoming！'
The　shells　slammed　into　the　base　of　the　wall　below　Tedeski；　blasting　chunks　of　rock　high　into　the　air　and　enveloping　him　in　a
drifting　bank　of　smoke。　Tedeski　didn't　flinch　and　when　the　cloud　cleared；　merely　dusted　off　his　uniform　jacket　with　his　one　hand。
As　the　noise　of　the　explosion　faded；　Tedeski　shouted；　'The　enemy　must　have　bad　fevers。　Do　you　hear　them　cough？　Perhaps　we
should　offer　them　some　sweet　wine！'
Laughter　and　cheering　swelled　from　the　throats　of　Battalion　A　of　the　Jouran　Dragoons；　their　courage　bolstered　by　their
commander's　words　and　bravery。
Another　nerve…stretching　hour　of　shelling　followed　which　Major　Gunnar　Tedeski　endured　with　his　men　in　determined　silence。
As　dusk　turned　the　sky　the　colour　of　congealed　blood；　Tedeski　turned　to　Poulsen；　and　took　his　aide…de…camp's　data…slate　with　a
shaking　hand。
With　an　effort　of　will　to　keep　his　voice　from　breaking；　he　said；　'Order　the　guns　below　to　deploy　and　shell　those　batteries　out　of
existence。'
FORRIX　PICKED　HIS　way　across　the　cratered　plain　as　quickly　as　his　bulky　suit　of　Terminator　armour　would　allow　him；　followed　by
thirty　of　his　hand…picked　warriors。　Like　him；　they　had　dulled　the　lustre　of　their　Terminator　armour　with　red　dust　from　the　plains；
and　under　the　fury　of　the　bombardment　would　hopefully　escape　detection　by　the　soldiers　above　them。
He　knew　they　did　not　have　much　time。　The　commander　of　the　garrison　above　would　know　by　now　how　devastating　die　artillery　of
the　Iron　Warriors　was；　and　that　unless　he　destroyed　it　quickly；　his　fortress　was　lost。　It　followed　that　he　would　now　deploy　his
hidden　guns　and　this　was　just　what　Forrix　wanted。　Honsou　waited　in　the　forward　parallel　with　forty　of　his　warriors　and　nearly　six
thousand　human　soldiers　spread　along　the　extent　of　the　trench。
The　timing　would　need　to　be　precise。　Too　early　and　the　Imperials　would　seal　the　tunnels　leading　to　the　guns；　too　late　and　his
artillery　would　be　bombed　out　of　existence。
Forrix　stalked　through　the　cratered　wasteland　and　secreted　himself　less　than　fifty　metres　from　the　entrance　to　the　concealed
artillery　pits。　His　veteran　warriors　filed　into　position　alongside　him　and　waited；　the　noise　of　the　shelling　swallowing　the　thump　of
their　heavy　footfalls。
They　did　not　have　long　to　wait。　A　sliver　of　light　and　rumbling　of　heavy　rolling　stock　grinding　along　rails　announced　that　the　guns
were　indeed　moving　into　position。
'Honsou；'　hissed　Forrix；　rising　to　his　feet　and　charging　towards　the　guns；　'go　now！'
HONSOU　SNARLED　IN　anticipation　as　he　heard　Forrix's　words　echo　within　his　helm　and　kicked　down　the　sandbagged　barricade　that
led　from　the　forward　parallel　onto　the　plain。　He　sprinted　forward；　the　Iron　Warriors　fanning　out　behind　him　as　they　raced　across
the　uneven　ground　towards　the　base　of　the　steep；　rocky　slope。　Behind　him　thousands　of　red…clad　soldiers　climbed　from　the　trench
and　the　guns　continued　to　fire；　pounding　the　walls　to　breach　the　central　bastion。
The　augmented　fibre　bundle　muscles　of　their　armour　powered　the　Iron　Warriors　upwards；　leaving　the　human　soldiers　floundering
in　their　wake；　stumbling　around　in　the　strobing；　shell…lit　twilight。
He　and　his　warriors　would　be　first　to　reach　the　fortress。　This　type　of　action　had　once　been　known　as　a　Forlorn　Hope；　because　the
first　men　into　the　breach　would　invariably　be　the　first　men　to　die。　It　was　the　duty　of　the　Hope　to　draw　the　enemy　fire　as　the
Graham　McNeill　？Storm　of　Iron？
remainder　of　the　force　closed　with　the　fortress。　The　men　of　the　Hope　would　storm　the　breach　and　buy　time　with　their　lives　for　the
following　troops　to　push　through。　Hundreds　of　men　might　be　sacrificed　in　this　way　simply　to　get　a　handful　through　the　breach。
Storming　a　breach　was　always　a　bloody　affair；　because　the　enemy　knew　exactly　where　the　attack　would　be　coming　from；　though
Honsou　hoped　the　constant　bombardment　from　the　batteries　would　keep　the　Imperial　defenders'　heads　down。
He　clambered　swiftly　up　the　jagged　rocks；　each　powerful　thrust　of　his　thighs　pushing　him　closer　to　the　top。　As　the　noise　of　shell
impacts　intensified；　he　looked　up　into　the　darkening　sky；　seeing　the　broken　top　of　the　ramparts　and　a　huge　tear　ripped　in　the　side
of　the　bastion。　Tonnes　of　rabble　spilled　down　its　flanks　and　provided　a　ready…made　ramp　to　the　defenders　above。
'Battery　guns；　cease　fire；'　ordered　Honsou　as　he　cleared　the　top　of　the　slope。
Shouts　of　alarm　echoed　from　the　top　of　the　walls　and　a　handful　of　las…blasts　stabbed　towards　him；　but　they　were　poorly　aimed　and
flew　high。
Honsou　muttered　the　Iron　Warriors'　catechism　of　battle：　''Iron　within；　iron　without''　as　his　men　pulled　themselves　onto　the　ground
before　Tor　Christo　and　charged　with　him　towards　the　breach。
FORRIX　SWEPT　HIS　power　glove　through　the　chest　of　a　man　wearing　a　gunner's　reinforced　flak　vest；　his　upper　body　exploding　in
blood　and　bone。　Roaring　reaper　cannon　fire　ripped　through　the　Imperial　gunners　and　soldiers；　spraying　the　flanks　of　their　artillery
with　blood。
'Protect　the　guns！'　screamed　a　junior　officer　before　Forrix　tore　his　head　off。
Fools。　Did　they　really　think　the　guns　were　their　target；　that　the　Iron　Warriors　did　not　already　have　a　surfeit　of　guns？
Their　attack　had　hit　without　warning　and　the　first　Imperial　troops　had　died　without　knowing　what　had　killed　them。　Their　guards
tried　to　fight　back；　but　within　seconds　had　realised　the　fight　was　hopeless　and　fled　before　Forrix　and　his　Terminators。　But　the　old
veteran　was　not　about　to　let　his　prey　escape　him　so　easily。　Three　of　his　warriors　levelled　their　reaper　cannons；　the　barrels　studded
with　spikes；　and　unleashed　a　deadly　hail　of　shots　that　felled　men　by　the　dozen。
Forrix　lumbered　forward；　ignoring　the　Imperial　guns　and　charging　as　fast　as　he　could　towards　the　wide　doors　in　the　mountainside。
Already　the　alarm　had　been　raised　and　they　were　rumbling　closed；　but　too　slowly。　Forrix　and　his　retinue　burst　through　into　the
space　beyond。
A　volley　of　las…fire　greeted　them；　hissing　harmlessly　from　the　thick　armour　of　the　Terminators。　Scores　of　Guardsmen　were　spread
through　the　cavernous　chamber；　but　Forrix　ignored　the　bright　flashes　of　weapons　fire　as　he　searched　for　the　door　mechanism。
Thick　rails　ran　across　the　rockcrete　floor　from　three　enormous　bays　and　ordnance　magazines；　each　with　cranes　and　pulley　chains
filling　the　space　above　them。
He　could　see　stairs　ahead　leading　upwards　carved　through　the　rock。　The　majority　of　the　cavern's　defenders　were　gathered　at　their
base　behind　hurriedly　constructed　barricades　of　crates　and　barrels。　Another　group　was　clustered　behind　a　pair　of　giant　bulldozers；
firing　from　behind　their　yellow　bulk　at　the　invaders。　Guessing　the　controls　for　the　door　were　housed　here；　Forrix　charged　forwards
through　the　hail　of　shots；　his　armour　easily　deflecting　the　defenders'　pitiful　fire。　He　and　his　Terminators　fired　their　combi…bolters
across　the　flanks　of　the　bulldozers；　explosive　shells　killing　a　dozen　soldiers　and　ricocheting　from　the　dozers'　flanks　with　flaring
detonations。
More　Terminators　headed　for　the　soldiers　guarding　the　stairs　as　Forrix　rounded　the　forward　edge　of　the　closest　bulldozer　and
hosed　the　men　there　with　bolter　fire。　Grenades　burst　harmlessly　around　the　Terminators　as　one　man　dived　aside　and　swung　a
heavy　rifle　with　a　ribbed　barrel　towards　Forrix。
A　white…hot　beam　of　plasma　energy　slammed　into　his　chest；　instantly　obliterating　the　blasted　iconography　there　and　searing
through　layers　of　ceramite　armour。　Forrix　felt　the　heat　of　the　plasma　scorch　his　skin　and　he　staggered　under　the　force　of　the
impact。　His　Terminator　armour　had　been　forged　on　the　Anvil　of　Holades　on　Olympia　itself　and　its　ancient　spirit　was　as　corrupt　as
he；　and　not　yet　willing　to　fall。　Forrix　rec