Into Hell
When a Blood Angel begins to take too much joy in their killing, when the blood is the only reason they fight, when they become a danger to their brothers, the Red Thirst has descended. At that point, the marine becomes a demon possessed, to be unleashed on the battlefield, not commanded. This is the Death Company. The hardest and strongest, the most fearless of all marines, and of the Blood Angels, the darkest. The Third War for Armageddon has begun, and at the forefront of it is are the space marines, fighting to hold back the Ork from taking the planet in the hands of Ghazghkull Mag Uruk Thraka.
Brother Captain Tycho of the Blood Angels, injured by a Ork force user has lost his mind, and joined the Death Company, to lose his life in glorious battle at the hands of impossible odds. Now, at the hands of Commander Scipio he fights to claim his prize, the bloodthirsty death.
***
Tycho jumped out of the Thunder Hawk gunships ramped opening and dropped towards the planet surface. The battle was raging below and he could not have stood another moment this far away from the blood of the battlefield. His fall bought him right down on the top of an Ork below him, crunching the beast into the snow as he fell feet first. He managed to keep his balance, staggering left and away from the lunging strike of a massive choppa as his power armour tried to compensate for the irregular fall. He came to his senses and bought his combi-bolter to bear, aiming it square to the lunging choppa's owner and with a searing blast of heat melted a hole straight through the beasts chest. It collapsed in agony, clawing at what remained of its body and Tycho cackled madly.
Behind him the Thunder Hawk had landed and a dozen marines disembarked, firing their boltguns with expert proficiency, taking their number in the Ork down in a matter of seconds. Tycho heard something on his vox channel but he chose to ignore it, ahead of him was a much bigger and more rewarding target.
Wading over the ridged edges of the crater they all fought within was a gargantuan creature. It was easily twice the size of Tycho and any of his normal marines, and had skin as black as coal. Its face was a snarling mass of bionics and tusks, two red eyes gleaming from hooded sockets. The Ork had to be the xenos' leader as immediately the other Ork flocked around him and made a concerted effort to press back against their attackers, overrunning a small squad of scouts who desperately fought to the end. Tycho mourned their passing, but he would be the one to avenge them. He slung the combi-bolter over his shoulder and reached down to a nearby corpse, yanking a chainsword free from a still quivering Ork body and charged forwards.
A black armoured marine pressed towards him, taking the head of an Ork as he did, the gawping head twirling into the air.
"Brother Tycho, the Commander urges you to pull back!" the black armoured marine was no other than one of the Death Company, the solemn and ferocious warriors who had succumbed to the Red Thirst.
"Haha!" Tycho laughed, kicking a grot square in the face, breaking the little runt into a bag of bones before it could even think its next move "He should know better than to ask that of the Death Company!"
He dodged the swinging blade of a lumbering Ork, the lazy strike sailing wide by a good margin. Tycho stepped into his defensive circle and sent a powered armoured fist into the face of the xenos. It crunched home, sending tusk and tooth flying into the air with added gout of spittle and blood. The Ork stumbled backwards and Tycho pressed the advantage, revving the chainsword in his hand and sinking it deep into the Ork's midrift, tearing upwards in a spray of black ichors. Even as the body of the Ork fell another took his place, pushing through the Blood Angel's that surrounded him all trying to take Tycho's head for their own skull rack. Tycho welcomed it and as the second fired a salvo of slugga rounds into his power armour he merely laughed. The rounds stung his flesh as they tore chunks of the ceramite from his body but he did not care. He yanked his own pistol from his side and walking forwards methodically he placed a well aimed shot into the Ork's cranium, sending brain splattering backwards onto its kin.
This only seemed to incense the beasts, but it was all part of what he wanted. The Death Company were now filling around him, a circle of whirling black death, each of them the serrated edge of a deadly saw which cut its way through the sea of green. They were separated from the main force by a good way, but that was how they fought, that was how they must die. Tycho could see the warboss was closing; he had noticed their whirling melee and was striding towards them, bellowing orders and a challenge to Tycho himself.
Tycho pushed through the line of Death Company before him and pointed his chainsword at the Warboss just as the massive creature came within striking distance. Without so much as a warning the thing swung its equally massive choppa. The blade came down in a lightning arc, and Tycho had to spend all of his energy just deflecting the strike. He bought his chainsword up just in time, the blade jarring as the servos tried to hack through the choppas metal. He slid in the snow, before jarring and nearly toppling over. The warboss laughed and pressed hard with the choppa, hoping to break Tycho's grip. Tycho fought back, letting his bolt pistol fall and gripping with both hands pushed the Ork's weapon off of his guard and the warboss back a few feet, some breathing space.
Tycho switched hands, putting the chainsword in his left and picked up the combi-bolter hanging loose at his side. With a scream of hot energy the melta shot blasted forwards and caught the ork square in the shoulder. The round melted through the iron covering it and the stench of flesh filled the air. The Ork looked in a way shocked at the wound, but the questioning face disappeared to be replaced by one of utter rage. The eyes gleamed more than before and it roared, throwing the large choppa aside and pulling two smaller ones from its side. Tycho laughed all the more and tapped the mask that adorned half of his face.
"You vile greenskins took from me all you could that day, now I will pay you and your kind back tenfold!"
He pulled a krak grenade from his side and primed the timer, keeping his finger down on the catch. He ran forwards, ducked under the swings of the warboss, the blades passing so close to his hair they could almost have shorn it off. He roared and rammed the chainsword into the Ork's stomach, the blade crunching through the plating and tearing great chunks out of the flesh of the warboss. Tycho let go, planted a boot firmly on the knee of the Ork and with the aid of his new still churning foothold hoisted himself onto the back of the Ork.
Tycho gripped onto the back of the Ork and looked around as the battle and the Ork raged. The Blood Angels were winning the day, the forces of the Ork pushed back and almost overrun. He could see piles of red armoured marines under larger mounds of the greenskin filth, and knew they had paid a great price for this day. Below him the Death Company still whirled with their blades covered in blood, inspired by their Captain's feats of strength. Tycho stuffed the primed grenade into the gap he had made with the melta gun and leapt backwards off the Ork's back. He landed with a crunch and was immediately surrounded by two Death Company, fighting back to back to protect him as he attained his footing.
He had only just stood to his feet when the explosion ripped through the air. The boom sounded muffled but the blast of air and blood from it sent those nearby sprawled to the floor. The Warboss stood in tatters. The entire half of his body ripped asunder with bits of flesh falling from the sky. It wavered on its thick legs a moment longer before crashing to its side, a cheer and chant of victory coming from the Death Company around it, finishing off the last of the Ork that fought to escape now rather than defeat them.
Tycho stood and brushed himself off, walking forwards and picking his trusted bolt pistol from the snow, slipping it back into its holster. The Ork's were retreating, the Blood Angels that were left cutting them down with bolter fire, surrounding the position and securing it as more and more Thunder Hawk's screamed overhead. An Imperial Guard regiment dismounted from a transport nearby, it seemed they were taking control now that the space marines had cleaned the place of the stink. A decorated marine, in blood red armour walked towards Tycho through the squad of Death Company around him with a stern look on his face.
"I would not have expected this from you" the marine said, looking at the carnage and the smoking warboss" The marines stern face split into a smile and he clapped a power armoured hand on Tycho's shoulder. "I thought you would kill him with your boot, hah!"
Tycho tried to smile but it wouldn't come.
"The Ork are routed Commander Scipio, what is your next command" he looked around at his Death Company "My men and I are eager to fight"
Scipio nodded "You are right of course. There is much fighting in the Tempestora Battlezone and they have asked that we send our best men to try and retake the forward base there. It is overrun with the Ork, hundreds of their kin, but it is imperative that it is held. I am giving you the Death Company and a host of my marines, the best, to take with you Tycho". He motioned to a seargent beside him who turned to marines and issued orders to fall into a nearby Thunder Hawk. "Do not fail in this Tycho" he said, before nodding to the other of his company behind him and walking towards the contingent of Imperial Guard.
Tycho liked the sound of this to come. Overwhelming odds, more Ork's than he could swing a chainsword at, and glory to be had. He would do his duty.
***
An hour later a pair of Thunder Hawk's hovered over the battlezone below. It raged with fury and anger, great explosions ripping into the earth and sending bodies and dirt flying into the air. The Imperial's had begun their bombardment and the marines were going to land right smack bang in the middle of it. The pilot navigated his way through explosions in the air, the entire vehicle jolting side to side as the force buffeted them. Inside them the marines all sat in silence, Tycho stood at the rear of his own and looked down at the carnage. There would be none left for him to kill at this rate.
A second marine stood by his side, a daunting face mask of bone covered his head and he held a cruel crozius Arcanum in his hand.
"There will be many for us to slay this day, the Emperor always provides".
The marine was Chaplain Felcor, another of the Death Company in this contingent of the Blood Angel fleet. He had joined them at the last minute, wanting to see his way into the midst of this battle and prove himself along side Tycho. Tycho had not complained, the more brothers at his side the better.
"The Imperials dig holes and burrows with their shells, the Orks will run and hide for all this"
"Will make our jobs easier will it not, if they stand all in one place then we will have a slaughter that will rival those of our ancestors" Felcor turned and walked back into the belly of the Thunder Hawk.
Tycho checked his weapons. All correct, not long now.
The explosions still rang in their ears as the Thunder Hawk's touched down, their side sponson guns firing at Orks as they noticed the vehicle and charged it, hoping to escape the bombardment within. The Blood Angels dismounted, the rams hitting the ground as they began to form up into their squads and cover each other from the sparse firing of the Ork.
Tycho and Felcor stood in the middle of the Death Company, yelling at the top of their voices as the explosions ripping into the very air around them.
"The hill!" Felcor shouted, pointing to a bunker partially obscured by flying dirt and body parts. "You must take that base and secure it!" Felcor pointed to the Blood Angel marines who were turning to face a renewed yet deafened force of Orks. "I will guide these warriors to victory, you take the Death Company and do what you do best!" he yelled, running towards the Red Armoured comrade and rallying them forwards into a charge against the greenskins bearing down on them.
"Come!" Tycho said quickly "Let us show our enemies and our battle brothers why we are so feared!" As the Thunder Hawk's roared their engines and took off, Tycho and the Death Company sprinted through the mud towards the base of a large hill, the bunker atop it.
Guns blazed from small holes in the bunkers walls, the occupying forces obviously spotting the Death Company trying to mount an attack. A salvo of bullets rained down on them, most glancing wide but one catching an unfortunate marine in the neck. He collapsed as blood gushed from the wound and struggled towards a crater wall. Tycho watched him pull a bolt pistol from his side and check the ammo. He would make a last stand even with the cruel aliens bullet lodged in his neck.
"We must pray the Emperor delivers us" the same Death Company marine as he had fought beside before said, pointing to more Orks manning the guns in the bunker.
Tycho looked up; it was true there was no getting up this hill without losing a stupid amount of his men.
Even as he thought it, it felt like the Emperor heard their words and a screaming wail sounded from above. They watched as a round arched through the air, aiming right for the bunker ahead of them. The shot slammed home with a boom, and as they watched it tore the side of the building to pieces. As the smoke cleared and the damage became evident Tycho didn't even have to call his brothers to action. They pulled their chain swords and bolt pistols from their sides and raced up the hill before the Ork's could even gather their senses.
They were on them like a pack of wild animals. Ork's stumbled about with mangled limbs as the Death Company cut them down grimly and efficiently. A dozen fell before any could react, and Tycho took great pleasure in vaporising the head of the first he found with his melta gun. It wasn't long however before the Ork's noticed what was happening and the fight began proper.
A veritable horde of them poured into the ruined bunker through the holes left by the explosions. Some of them with their guns blazing, others with choppas and wild flaying arms trying to just drag down marines before them.
"Plug those gaps!" Tycho yelled, pointing to the points of entry.
The Death Company did as ordered and moved forwards, trying to push the Orks into a bottle neck as to make a killing ground of their mad rush. It seemed to hold as they cut down the Ork, but just as all seemed to work to the left of Tycho he heard a roar of Orkish triumph. The two marines who had been forcing them back lay broken and bleeding on the ground, their helmets smashed in and yet chainswords still whirring. Tycho grimaced and strode towards them, leaving his own gap manned by a single Death Company marine. He fired his bolter into them, taking the marines killers down in a handful of salvos before pulling a grenade from his side and throwing it towards the opening. The Ork's were too stupid to notice the grenade amongst their masses and with a roar it blasted a good handful into pieces.
"Hold!" Tycho shouted standing in the blast hole and firing on the Ork's outside. It was only then, too late he heard the winding missles arching towards him.
He looked past the sea of greenskin fodder towards a group of Ork's firing crude missles from launchers that shouldn't even have worked. The mocking shells were arching towards his position and he had only mere seconds to move. He threw himself backwards as the explosions ripped into the bunker and explosive blasts sent his Death Company and himself flying backwards into the ruins of the bunker. The world span in Tycho's head and blood seeped down into his vision. He reached up and then looked to his hand, blood was seeping from a wound into his eyes. He forced himself too his feet only to feel a stinging pain wrack through his left leg. He looked down, a thick chunk of metal was jutting out of his power armour and was poking out the other side. He gritted his teeth and yanked it out, his blood boiling as he did so. He hoped that his battle brothers were faring better, but it seemed not. He watched, able to do little but make himself stand, as one of the Death Company that still stood had his face smashed in by the brutal hammer blow of an Ork hammer. Another fired up into an Ork who stood above him and slashed down at his body with choppa strikes. Even as the marine died, blood spraying everywhere he kept the trigger finger down and blasted chunks out of his opponent.
Tycho roared and pulled his combi-bolter to bear, aiming it at the Orks pouring through the gaps in the defences. His rounds tore apart Ork and wall, the entire clip emptied in a matter of seconds. A reprieve in their assault let him steady himself and he looked down at his leg. It was useless, he wasn't moving anywhere. He grimaced and tossed the gun away, picking up one of the chain swords on the floor and checking his bolt pistol. The sound of more Ork's bellowed through the holes in the wall and the forms of them lumbered back into view, fresh for the kill. They could sense his end, his wounds, and they would not stop. But neither would Tycho.
The Orks closed on him and all he did was laugh. The first went down with a fell swipe of his chainsword, cutting it across the neck and sending it sprawling. The second took a chainsword to the legs, both being ripped from under it as Tycho stumbled to keep up on his one good leg. His swings were in no way a defensive stance and he was not surprised as he pulled himself up from the sweep to feel the sting of a weapon in his side. One of the Ork's had circled round and plunged a rusty blade through the gaps in his armour. He could feel the hot blood seeping out, but it only served to fuel his anger, his rage, his blood thirst. He rounded on the Ork, snapping the weapons blade in half as he did and bought the chain sword down on the things head, splitting it in two in a shower of gore. Another blow cracked off the back of his head and he felt blood rise in his mouth, but he would still not fall to them. He span and punched the Ork in the throat, it stumbled back holding it tight. Tycho swept the creature over with his good leg and plunged both chain swords down into the Ork, the swords grating on the ground below, one whirring to a stop.
He resorted to using it as a club, swinging it into the faces of the Orks coming at him, breaking bones and smashing limbs as he did. The other blade still whirred furiously and he ended a dozen more lives before it finally gave in and died.
Tycho panted for breath, falling to one knee and barely gripping the swords in his hands. The sounds of battle were still going on behind him, Felcor was doing well it seems holding off the Ork reinforcements. All Tycho had to go was keep going till help arrived, till the Blood Angels and the Imperial Troops could secure the position. He looked around for something to help himself and fought the pain in his leg, standing and pressing on with his movements. The Ork's had moved back it seems, but he didn't know for how long. He pressed his way through the rubble and the bodies to the forms of his fallen Death Company and found one of them lying there with a bolt pistol still in good condition. This would be his final weapon it seemed, he would put it too good use.
He picked it up and checked it, only a few rounds left in the clip but it would have to do. The roar of the Ork's began again, but so did the sounds of victorious chants from behind him. He was getting close. Tycho propped himself against the nearest wall and rested the bolter on his knee, aiming perfectly for the openings in the ruins. The first Ork leapt through howling, a round in the head stopped that. A second threw a choppa at him, he moved his head just in time to see the quivering weapon next too his ear. He fired a shot, taking the thing in the eye, sending it sprawling backwards as the back of its head exploded. One round left. The third was more cunning, using the body of a fallen Ork to move towards him in a rush. Tycho was a good shot, he fired at the things feet and with a howl of pain it collapsed in front of him. He grabbed the things skull with his spare fist and despite the creature's protests and attempts to break his grip he squeezed until the xenos thing's head popped with a crunch of bone.
More started to come now, he knew he wouldn't last another wave. He threw the bolt pistol to the side and pulled the last grenade from his belt, primed the timer and held it in his grip. With an effort he stood, forcing himself to move as Ork's poured through the holes in the ruin and swarmed towards him. He swung for one, catching it on the jaw, a satisfying dislocation even if he stumbled forwards and felt the weight of their fists and weapons on his body beating him to the ground. He watched with one eye, filled with crimson blood as the grenade slipped from his fingers and the blinking light got steadily quicker. He closed his eyes and that was the last he felt.
Felcor ran up the slope with the handful of marines he still had at his command. The explosion rippled the ground underneath their feet, and he watched as the air was filled with fire and ash, Ork body pieces being hurled this way and that.
"Come" Felcor said, taking the last few steps with ease and looked at the ruin of the bunker. All the Death Company were dead, but so were so many Orks he thought that they would think again of ever trying to attack a single Blood Angel.
A pile of Orks lay against the south wall, and atop it, in his blasted and bloodied armour sat the form of Tycho. His eyes were closed, a great gash across his forehead. His blond hair matted and caked in blood. The mask on the ruined side of his face was bent and blackened, but still had its features. His armour was breached; the black painted power suit rent open by the explosions and stabbing choppas. Despite his anger, his hate, his malice for the greenskin he looked peaceful now.
"Will someone help me carry him?" Felcor said, walking forwards and bending down to lift the hero to onto his shoulder.
All the surviving Blood Angels stepped forwards, all helping to lift Tycho onto their shoulders and walk from the ruins, down the battered hill. As they did Felcor looked up, Thunder Hawks and other Imperial transports roared into the skies and began to set down, Ork's whom were fleeing were picked off by snipers and ships guns. He looked back at the ruins. One of the Blood Angels bent down and picked up the standard the Death Company carried with them at all time. He planted it firmly in the dirt and let the banner fly.
"Just as he would want" Felcor said "Alas brother, we will meet again one day."