Each was a centauroid skeleton, but instead of legs their bodies were carried on two lines of spherical anti-gravitic emitters that gleamed with jade energy, as did the eye lenses that turned towards the Space Marines. Twin-barrelled cannons crackled into life, but the Ultramarines were the swifter to fire, a hail of bolts screaming up into the air to meet the incoming xenos. Rounds exploded across them, plucking at the metal of their bodies, sending one of the alien constructs spinning groundwards. The others shrugged off the storm of projectiles and returned fire.

Emerald beams sliced down, converging on Sekora in the lead assault squad. Nem­etus looked on in disbelief as the Ultramarine was enveloped by coruscating green energy, stripping down through his armour, into the skin and the black carapace beneath, finally melting away his organs and skeleton. In the space of a second, he had been turned from a fully armoured warrior, one of the Emperor’s finest, to a greasy vapour drifting on the breeze.

‘Destroy the unholy abominations!’ roared Exelloria, charging towards the xenos. ‘Spare this world the curse of the xenos. Bring forth your anger as you raise your weapons. Let your hatred guide your aim more surely than any targeter. Give no thought to the techno-sorcery of our foes. Your will is greater than any abhorrent conjuration!’

The necron that had been grounded was starting to recover, pushing itself upright from where it had fallen.

‘Those that defy the will of the Throne shall not endure! The just punish­ment for the Emperor’s enmity is death! Death!’

The Chaplain’s bolt rifle spat fiery rounds into the alien, joined by a sudden flurry of grenades from Brother Velecht. Into the plume of detonations, the Aggressors unleashed a tempest of rapid-fired bolt-rounds, shredding the alien where it lay.

‘Concentrate fire,’ ordered Nem­etus, aiming his plasma pistol at the incoming skimmers. He squeezed the trigger and a ball of pulsing blue energy hit its mark dead centre. The power of a miniature star exploded through the xenos, a fountain of blue fire erupting amid a welter of molten droplets. Bolt-rounds sliced at its tumbling corpse and the third flying warrior.

‘More of them, on the ground,’ warned Gaihalius. The Intercessor turned, auspex in one hand, bolt rifle coughing rounds in the other, aiming towards the mangled doors of the closest terminal building. The aliens that emerged were akin to the flying creatures but stalked forward on a trio of slender legs, their clawed tips tearing at the ground.

Fresh blasts of jade energy leapt out from the walkers’ weapons, slicing neat cuts through Brothers Kallius and Demeter; the former lost his leg, the latter was bisected from crotch to shoulder by the dancing beams. The other Intercessors responded with disciplined volleys of fire, laying down a continuous hail of bolts between them. The aliens were staggered but not slain by the fusillade, pressing forward into the storm of fire rather than retreating.