Catechism Of Hate by Gav Thorpe Read Free Book Online

battle-brethren.
    Cassius and Dacia discussed the matter in person. They met in a small outbuilding attached to the refuelling depot, which Cassius had dedicated as a battlefield chapelry. One of the Chapter's battle banners was laid over a cluster of tables and such small relics as Cassius had been able to bring with him were placed on this makeshift altar: a silver goblet that Roboute Guilliman had drunk from during his first meeting with the Emperor; the knife of Antonius Galeus, a much-revered Chapter Master of the Ultramarines; a second-revision copy of the Codex Astartes; and a claw from a tyranid hive tyrant, gilded and engraved by Cassius himself, taken as a token of the victory at Macragge.
    The two of them stood on opposite sides of the altar, and addressed each other over their external speakers, not wishing to air their disagreement over the comm net. Cassius had granted audience to the veteran sergeant in recognition of his status as second-in-command, but had made it plain that he was all but set on keeping the patrols at long range.
    'There is no advantage in keeping our patrols so far from assistance,' complained Dacia, leaning forwards onto the altar. 'If we are to keep Cordus Via from being overrun, every warrior must account for the highest toll of the enemy. Our patrols will be swiftly destroyed by any large tyranid force, for little advantage to our strategy.'
    'We cannot risk the enemy coming upon us unseen,' countered Cassius. He was irked that Dacia was second-guessing his strategy in this way, though it was the role of a veteran sergeant to provide guidance and advice to his commanders. 'We also cannot afford the tyranids discovering some other route to Plains Fall; one that bypasses our position here.'
    'So it is your intent that our patrols will be discovered, and in that way attract the tyranids to Cordus Via?' Dacia shook his head slightly and there was incredulity in the metal-tinged voice that came from his helm. 'You would use our battle-brothers as bait?'
    'A harsh assessment, brother-sergeant,' replied Cassius. 'I have no intent to allow our patrols to be killed. They will withdraw immediately upon contacting the enemy, bringing the tyranids down the highway and into the strongest part of our defence.'
    'I am not convinced that we could not achieve such an end in other ways, without the attendant risk to our patrol squads.'
    'If you have a suggestion to make, sergeant, I will be prepared to give it audience.'
    Before Dacia could voice his alternative plan, the comm crackled with a priority signal, cutting across the routine report transmissions that had been flowing back and forth between the Space Marine squads.
    'Light source from the east, Brother-Chaplain,' said Sergeant Capilla. The sergeant led one of the devastator squads stationed atop the highest dormitory block. 'Estimate they are five kilometres away and approaching.'
    'Understood, brother-sergeant,' said Cassius. 'Sergeant Dacia and I will join you shortly.'
    The Chaplain walked around the altar and gestured for Dacia to follow.
    'I believe we have a third option to resolve our difference of opinion,' said Cassius, switching back to external address. 'A lure that will ensure the tyranids attack here, but will not place our patrols in unnecessary danger.'
    FROM THEIR VANTAGE point atop the tenement, the Ultramarines could clearly see the approaching Battle Titans. Beams from four massive searchlights blazed across the fields, mounted sixty metres above the ground atop the carapaces of the walking war engines. Smaller spotlights illuminated the windswept crops beneath the advancing behemoths, while the helmet-like command bridge of each Titan was lit from within, viewing canopies glaring like ruby eyes in the darkness.
    With ponderous strides, the Warlords covered the ground effortlessly, stepping over walls and farmsteads without hesitation. Canals and irrigation ditches proved no obstacle either, bypassed by the massive legs of the