There were more of the enemy than Justinian expected, and well supported with armour. ‘Brother!’ Justinian voxed on their closed net. He held up one of his hands, almost encased by the assault bolter’s bulky firing mechanisms. ‘A chance to aid our cousins.’

Close to their position, five enemy Predator battle tanks were rolling backwards, firing as they withdrew, their thicker armour presented towards the main press of the Imperial forces. Their heavy bolters had pinned a squad of Space Marines from the Silver Skulls Chapter behind a burning wreck, and a squad of Heretic Astartes were moving in to flank their position.

‘There. To the left,’ said Justinian, his cogitator canting over his intended target to Aldred.

‘A good choice,’ said the yellow-clad son of Dorn.

Together, the Primaris Space Marines jumped, sailing over the heads of the embattled Silver Skulls. Bullets whined past, bolt shells roaring by on the hot blades of rocket motors, and lasbeams cracked the air with miniature thunderclaps. While skyborn, the two Inceptors briefly became a favoured target. Death of various kinds knocked upon the thick plating of their armour, but none could gain entry to the soft meat within.

Justinian heeded a rising shriek from his inbuilt tacticarium, swerving out of the way to allow the rocket it had detected to pass between him and Aldred. Then they were down, and their would-be killers found other things to fire at.

They landed off to the right of the Iron Warriors skulking round through the piles of wrecked machines. Justinian and Aldred had not been seen by their prey, and they took shelter behind a broken-backed Knight carcass. Blasphemous sigils covered its carapace, and its cockpit was cracked open, revealing an ossified melding of man and machine where a human pilot should have sat.

‘They have not seen us,’ said Aldred.

‘They will,’ said Justinian.

He stepped out, both arms at full extension, and opened fire.

The Iron Warriors’ armour was sufficiently thick that they weathered the first flurry of mass-reactive bolts. They therefore had time to register the two Primaris Space Marines flanking them, but several fell before they could return fire.

Justinian’s left assault bolter clicked dry. A red warning sigil shone angrily near the centre of his vision, and he ducked back behind the Knight. The ammo indicator for his second gun flickered.

‘I am down to seven rounds,’ he informed Aldred.

Aldred laughed drily. Seven rounds was a half-second burst.

‘I have only a few more.’

‘We need to reload.’ Justinian pulled up the location of a Primaris resupply pod almost two hundred metres away. ‘I have a location.’

The Silver Skulls were still under fire from the Predators, but thanks to the Primaris Inceptors they were now aware of the more pressing threat. A fierce firefight had commenced between the loyalist Space Marines and the remaining Heretic Astartes.

‘A shame we cannot do more,’ said Aldred.