The Prelude
The air was cool as the sun rose over the jagged spires of the Fortress Monastery. Mists rising from the surrounding wetlands coated the ground, broken only by the feet of the large figures jogging towards the stronghold. They were the Blood Ravens, one of the Emperor's Chosen. Leading the small group was Cyrus, the Captain of the 10th Company. His blonde hair and impressive number of facial scars made him stand out amongst his brethren, but he paid no heed to their comments. Behind him trailed a group of Scouts, the youngest members of the Chapter, and neophytes to combat. They would get plenty of experience today.
The Scouts reached the base of the Monastery, passing by the layered defenses being deployed by the serfs and servitors. A full company awaited their arrival, clad in the same crimson and bone coloured armor. Unfeeling green lenses glowed from their helmets as they awaited the news.
Cyrus watched the assembled marines with a keen eye, looking for any signs of apprehension. For weeks, the Blood Ravens had been knee deep in the massive conflict raging throughout the Kaurava system. For weeks, Cyrus had been battling all forms of xenos, heretics, and sadly, even fellow servants of the Emperor. It saddened Cyrus greatly, but any hopes of an alliance with the Imperial Guard had broken down, and now General Vance Stubbs had arrived on Kaurava II, intent on ending the conflict between the Guard and Astartes in one move.
Cyrus nodded towards brother Vaenor. The young scout marine dropped to one knee in front of the assembly to give the news to the Force Commander. Commander Boreale stood tall, his gold trimmed armour glistening in the faint sunlight of the early morning. His stern gaze bore down on the scout. Vaenor tried to keep his voice steady as he relayed the ill tidings the 10th Company had discovered.
"Commander Boreale, enemy forces have been located within our perimeter."
"Where?" demanded Boreale. "Where have they escaped your grasp?" his dismissive tone irritated Cyrus greatly. The commander did not think highly of the Scouts, especially those that had yet to truly test themselves in battle. Vaenor was eager to prove himself, however, and had personally requested to relay the information to Boreale. Cyrus had allowed him the chance. Initiative should always be encouraged.
"Sou... Southern Quadrant,' Vaenor stammered, "But they were on the move. Their current location is unknown."
Vaenor stared down at his feet, ashamed of himself. Commander Boreale continued to stare vehemently at the young scout. From the assembly, Cyrus remained impassive, while his frustration grew. He doesn't deserve this, thought Cyrus. He's still learning. As Captain of the 10th Company, it was Cryus' responsibility to maintain discipline and account for all actions taken by his Initiates. Cyrus immediately regretted allowing Vaenor to be subjected to this humiliation. He should be the one in front of the gathered troops, not a recruit with barely a year's combat experience. Vaenor was young, and he still had much to learn.
Pondering the news, Boreale turned to face the assembled Marines. At the base of the Fortress Monastery, the bulk of the Blood Ravens' 2nd Company, Boreale's own men, awaited their leader's orders. Unreadable under their expressionless helmets, the Marines betrayed now emotion.
"There is no time to be lost! Battle Brothers!"
Cyrus tried to conceal a grimace. Boreale was a ferocious fighter, but as a speaker, he was no Captain Angelos.
"Space Marines, today the enemy is at our door! We know our duty and we will do it! We fight for our honour, as Blood Ravens, as Space Marines, and we fight in the Emperor's Name!"
Cyrus noted that Chaplain Gren had buried face in his gauntlet in exasperation. If the stoic Chaplain could not take Boreale's blathering, it bode ill for the rest. With the utterance of the Emperor's name, Cyrus and the rest of the marines bowed to their knees to give prayers and platitudes to the God Emperor.
"And if we die this day, we die in glory! We die heroes' deaths! But we shall not die, no! It is the enemy who will taste death and defeat! As you know, most of our Battle Brothers are stationed in space, prepared to deep strike!"
That caught Cyrus' attention. Of all the tactics of the Astartes, what Boreale was about to propose was one of the riskiest manoeuvres ever conceived by the Space Marines. Cyrus paled at the thought. Only once had the attempt succeeded, during the Second Armageddon War. Boreale was about to attempt a Steel Rain attack.
Vaenor glanced nervously towards Cyrus. His teacher looked as though he seethed under his skin. Try as he might to keep a calm demeanor, Vaenor could see through the Captain's mask. He was furious.
"Is something wrong, Captain?" he said.
"I am fine, initiate." said Cyrus. "Heed the Commander's words. We shall talk afterwords."
Cyrus and Vaenor turned their attention back to Boreale's speech. The Commander was describing the tactic known in the Codex as Steel Rain. The plan seemed to trouble his teacher greatly. Arreth, Teral and Denmor said nothing and betrayed no sign of confusion, but Vaenor knew they were both thinking the same as their Captain.
"We are the Space Marines! We are the Emperor's fury!" finished Boreale with a rallying cry.
The gathered troops let out a great shout in response, thrusting their weapons to the sky. The speech was done, and Chaplain Gren took Boreale's place as he turned towards the Monastery. Even beneath the skull shaped helmet, the gathered Marines knew that the Chaplain was angry.
"The Reclusiam shall be open to any brother who wishes to receive his sermons before the battle commences. I should also add that it is every Astartes duty to obey the orders of our Force Commander. Without faith in our leaders, we have no faith at all."
There was a rumbling in the distance. Vaenor's auditory implants filtered the noise until it was clear. They were the rumbling of tank treads, by the thousands. The Guard were getting closer. The Chaplain continued.
"The Commander has ordered all Chapter Command personnel to the communications room to discuss battle strategy. Brother Captains Cyrus, Hethforn, Deimos, and Gelden, report there immediately. All squads, move to your assigned locations, and await further orders. Put faith in the Holy Father! We are the Blood Ravens!"
As one, they chanted: "Let none find us wanting!"
The assembly broke off, squads moving towards their posts, orders being shouted across Vox channels. Vaenor watched the other Scout teams break off, led by Elerion and Ariston. Vaenor was attached to Cyrus's squad, and they gathered around their leader, awaiting his command. The others looked uncertain, letting their concerns fill their faces. Vaenor huffed to himself at the show of fear.
Cyrus addressed them. "Yes initiates? You have your orders, you should not keep them waiting. I will meet you when I am finished."
"Sir, you seemed worried," said Teral. "What is it that troubles you?"
Cyrus chuckled. "Psychiatric help from my own initiates, is it? It is not important. What is important is that you survive. You are the future of the Chapter, initiates. Have faith that we will succeed, but do not hesitate to retreat if the battle turns against you. I'll keep an open vox link with you. I would hardly be a teacher if I did not watch out for you. Keep your eyes sharp, and your wits sharper. Now go."
The others reassured, Vaenor followed them towards the perimeter. He turned and caught a glance of Cyrus before he disappeared behind the lip of the steps to the Monastery. Whatever was troubling Cyrus, he was doing his best to hide it.
Vaenor stepped up to walk side by side with Denmor, the recruit that he had fought against in the Blood Trials. Denmor was heavier built than Vaenor, and his brute strength had made him a natural with heavy weapons. He hauled his heavy bolter over his shoulder, and turned to speak to Vaenor.
"So, what was it like speaking to the Commander? He's very different from Captain Cryus, isn't he?"
"He seems big, compared to Cyrus," said Vaenor. "Just the way he carries himself. He looked down at me like I was a bug. I suppose intimidation is one way to earn loyalty."
Denmor smiled. "Yes, it looked like you were being shamed in front of a parent, didn't it? You looked afraid."
"That wasn't how it was at all," he snapped. "I was not afraid! I was bowing in respect."
"Sure you were," said Denmor, smiling and shaking his head.
"You could have gone up and spoke, but you didn't, did you?" said Vaenor.
Teral and Arreth yelled back at the two. "Hurry up back there, you two argue like children!"
"Best not keep them waiting, Vaenor." Denmor hauled his heavy bolter higher and jogged to catch up with the others. Vaenor just scowled and followed after him, splashing through the swamp as the Monastery gave way to the wilderness.
Author's Note: I fee like I just write these notes as an apology for lagging behind with these updates. As I went on with the story, I felt more and more like it was getting too bloated, with some short updates, and others that were so bogged down that it wrecked the flow. After a while, I just couldn't look at it anymore, so I've decided that the best thing for me to do is to do a revised version, cut the bullshit down a bit, and hopefully come up with a more consistent pace.
