Marsh Silas IIS: Squad Stories

Chapter 24

Long ago, Port Ollan's lights might have burnt as brightly as a lone candle in a dungeon. A forest of cranes spun in all directions, conveying freight containers, vehicles, and building materials to and from the ships. Ships of all kinds, from the humble lighter to the mammoth battleship, could be found in every berth and drydock. On stormy days, waves smashed against the two ferrocrete moles which reached out into the ocean.

But on this night, the sea was calm, the night was still, and Port Ollan was nothing but a series of dilapidated shapes on the shore. None of the rusted cranes which loomed over the water moved. Only a few lights glowed along the waterfront, while a series of lamps blossomed in intervals along the moles. Burning torches created orange smears that illuminated the work parties toiling in the drydocks. Other groups feverishly constructed floating docks or worked to extend the pitiful wooden docklands spaced evenly between the moles.

Sentries in watch towers or patrols on the mole gazed out at the Torium Sea. But none could see nor hear the Navis Maritimum flotilla slide across the waves towards Port Ollan.

Jacinto stood on the port bow of the destroyer CNM Tower of the Vigilant and gripped the rails. Armaplas plates had been bolted to either side of the railings and a wall of sandbags were added as well. Sandbag redoubts protected Saber Gun Platforms studded the deck. Standing, crouching, or sitting, the Kasrkin of Bloody Platoon waited. Nobody spoke. Many bowed their heads and pressed their helmets together in silent, communal prayer. Cornelius weaved among the operators, dabbing their winged-skull emblems with holy oil.

The Kasrkin were not the only ones on the deck. Among them were ratings and armsmen of the Navis Maritimum. They were clad in baroque patterns of flak armor with bronze and blue palettes. These men various lascarbines, shotguns, and even Rotor Cannons. Joining them once again was Sergeant-at-Arms Tanzer and her Breachers from the Gatekeeper. Their ridgid white armor was moist from sea spray but they all posed stoically on the rocking ship. Then, there were Guardsmen from the 95th Infantry Regiment. According to the survivors of the 1333rd Regiment, these were old friends from the Battle of the Hill, the Siege of Kasr Sonnen, and the Battle of Army's Meadow. These infantrymen were hardened and fierce-looking.

The psyker glanced right. Marsh Silas, Captain Hyram, and Warrant Officer Romilly stood together at the pinnacle of the bowl. Both scrutinized their target through magnoculars.

"Four shore batteries," Marsh Silas murmured.

"Look at all those barges and lighters they've pilfered," Romilly said. "I saw report after report submitted to our department before I went into hiding, but I did not think much of it. I just passed them along to someone else. Look, they even have an oceangoing tug with a Heavy Stubber."

"When all you do is stare at paperwork for months or even years," Hyram whispered, "the text on the pages start to lose meaning."

"It's nearly zero hour," Marsh said, looking up from his Slate-monitron. "Captain Yori has reached his final phase line."

"Scout Sergeant Tōru reported that one of the Marked Men's companies pulled out to attack your phantom target," Romilly said, briefly lowering his scope. "Your ruse was quite successful."

Jacinto pushed some of his wet, white locks away from his eyes and inhaled. The salty air was delicious to breathe. His hands fidgeted, turned over one another, and he eventually clasped them together. One more breath and the shaking stopped. Opening his gray eyes, he found himself drawn to the profile of the shore guns. Even without magnoculars, he spotted their long, insidious profiles. Tower of the Vigilant was only armed with two five inch guns fore and aft, as well as two twelve pounders amidships, and a host of automatic weapons platforms. It was not heavily armored and one of those heavy shells could punch a hole right through the deck.