Foreword
In the nightmare future of the 41st millennium, Mankind teeters upon the brink of extinction. The galaxy-spanning Imperium of Man is beset on all sides by ravening aliens, and threatened from within by malevolent creatures and heretic rebels. Only the strength of the Immortal Emperor of Terra stands between Humanity and its annihilation. Dedicated to His service are the countless warriors, agents and myriad servants of the Imperium. Foremost amongst them stand the Space Marines, mentally and physically engineered to be the supreme fighting force, the ultimate protectors of Mankind.
Wars rage over airless moons, in the dark, twisted depths of hive worlds and in the cold wastes between stars. From the immaterial realm of warp space, malicious entities send their unspeakable minions to slaughter the Emperor's chosen. Everywhere, soulless spectres and slavering monsters are poised to extinguish the life of Humanity.
The Imperial Guard
The Imperial Guard is the largest and most diverse organisation the galaxy has ever seen, containing billions of men from a million different worlds, united under the banner of the Imperium of Man. The entire diversity of the massive Imperium is encapsulated in its ranks.
Despite its awesome power, however, the Imperial Guard constantly struggles to protect the Imperium from its many enemies. The mighty Tyranid hive fleets batter at the Eastern Fringe, Ork Waaagh!s erupt without warning or pause, the damned Traitor Legions pour from the Eye of Terror hungry for Mankind's souls, mysterious Eldar raiders strike without mercy, the ancient Necrons sally from their tomb worlds and numerous emergent empires, such as the Tau, rise up to challenge Humanity's mastery. Against these diverse and often incomprehensible threats, the Imperial Guard pits human resolve and ingenuity in an unending battle with an inimical universe.
In the midst of genetically engineered super-beings, alien killing machines, warrior mystics, and technology that approaches sorcery in its sophistication, the Imperial Guard are mere soldiers. Clad in a flak jacket and carrying a lasgun, they have to contend with the most terrifying threats, relying on numbers, massed firepower and a bayonet with some guts behind it. As such it is easy to identify with these brave souls and to see in them the quality of true heroes.
His wrath falls from the heavens
"Fight in His name!" a Guardsman cried out. "Hold the line!" shouted another. The smell of boltguns being fired filled Lucius's nostrils as he aimed his lasgun at his green foes. The Orks' advance was going too well for them, and the Guardsmen were falling in their dozens at a time. Their sudden attack had already cost the Guard their precious Leman Russ tanks – and now it seemed that the spaceport was going to fall. The city of Magna Bonum – the capital of the planet Tartarus – was already in ruins. No one seemed to fully understand from whence the Orks came. Their attack had, as aforesaid, been sudden, unexpected and deadly, as well as devastating. If Orks were made for anything, it was surely for war.
One of the Orks fell to the ground, its horrid face pierced by the beam of Lucius's lasgun. But they were already upon them. Axes slashed open fragile human skin and stolen boltguns put an end to other unfortunate Imperial Guardsmen.
"Hold the line! In the name of the Emperor you will not falter!" Colonel Brom's voice boomed, though it was evident that the hapless Guardsmen could not withstand the green tide.
Lucius Dorlanis evaded an Ork's axe and responded with jabbing his bayonet into the beast's throat, which was slit open. Blood sprouted from the open wound into his face. It was warm and salty. And in a strange moment, Lucius wondered how it could be that his blood had the same colour as that of the Orks. A fist in his back ended his contemplation, and he fell on his stomach. Instinctively he rolled as soon as he touched ground, thus evading his would-be slayer's dagger. Quickly he tried to raise his lasgun at his attacker, but it was knocked away by the towering Ork. He watched his only weapon fall to the ground some metres away from him, and then eyed his foe. The red eyes revealed hatred and an insatiable battle lust as the Ork's dagger was raised to end his life.
"You will fight, or you will die!" Lucius thought he heard the Colonel say in the distance.
Then a light caught Lucius's eyes. It came from above in the sky, descending quickly. Lucius wondered if this was how a human died, seeing light coming from above to fetch you. And as the dagger descended, the light crashed behind the Ork wielding it sending the beast flying high into the sky by the impact. Two more lights simultaneously landed, sending both Guardsmen and Orks flying in all directions.
Lucius raised his head to see what had landed, and immediately realised that it had been Imperial pods that had come. From one such pod stepped forth a figure whose countenance seemed to shine. Dark red armour covered his body while his head was uncovered. Eyes almost shining with holy wrath locked themselves with Lucius's – and though it only lasted a split second, it was enough to make him stand and grab the nearest lasgun within reach.
As Lucius looked up again, he saw the figure already battling the Orks with a sword from which small bolts of lightning sparked. For each round the imposing figure let go from his boltgun, an Ork fell lest it was dispatched with the shining sword. Other figures wearing dark red armour came charging the Orks, clearly turning the battle – and Lucius knew that now they would be victorious! The Space Marines had come! The very Children of the Emperor Himself!
"For the Emperor!" sounded the battle-cry of the Space Marines.
Lucius quickly found a target and pulled the trigger, shooting like crazy to aid the valiant Space Marines. Orks fell now by the dozens and the Guardsmen took heart. Soon the battle was over, and the Imperium had won a victory.
Drying the sweat from his forehead that was mingled with blood, Lucius looked admiring at the leader of the Space Marines and remembered a phrase so often recited by his battalion's cleric, "His wrath falls from the heavens." Surely it had fallen upon the Orks in form of the Space Marines.
The apparent leader of the newcomers, a man with near blond hair, though his head was almost shaved bald, hurried over to Colonel Brom, saying, "I am Captain Gabriel Angelos, of the Blood Ravens Third Company. Status!"
Lucius frowned. Blood Ravens? he thought, trying to remember if he had ever heard of the Chapter. A hand was placed on his shoulder, prompting him to turn. He found himself looking at a fellow Guardsman, going by the name of Marvenum Lerkn. The Guardsman was a bit plump and quite pale, but the skin's paleness had to have come from the sudden battle and near defeat.
"Lucius, are you all right?" Marvenum asked worried.
"Yeah, 'tisn't my blood," Lucius replied and tried to wipe the Ork blood off his face.
"Glad to hear that, mate," Marvenum said, sighing relieved. Then his face turned sombre. "Marcus and Donodom turned and fled." He paused. "They were executed on the spot by the Colonel."
"As is proper for traitors," another voice rang.
Lucius nodded grimly to Sergeant Reynold Strapher – his lightly bearded face, scarred and battered as well as middle-aged, looked almost diabolical. Steel grey eyes were fixed on him and Marvenum. "Yes, Sergeant, 'tis," Lucius said and looked Marvenum in the eyes. "Remember what we've been taught, It is better to die for the Emperor than live for yourself."
Marvenum's eyes dropped to the ground as he slowly nodded. "We nearly lost," he said and added whispering, "I nearly fled, too, Lucius."
Lucius gave a half smile as he put his arm around his friend's shoulders. "So was I, Marv," he whispered. "But we've been given a chance to redeem ourselves." He cast a look at the dead Orks. "The stinking Xenos have been repelled, and we still breathe. For that let's just be thankful, eh?"
Marvenum – or Marv as his friends called him – smiled. "Yes, the Emperor be praised."
"Brothers! Let us destroy this alien filth!" the Captain of the Blood Ravens cried out to the Space Marines. The genetically engineered sons of the Emperor advanced, leaving the Imperial Guard and Colonel Brom behind.
Colonel Brom, on the other hand, walked with sure steps over to the tattered Guardsmen of which several were wounded. A man in his fifties or sixties, the Colonel himself looked even grimmer than Sgt Strapher. He sported a white goatee and his hair was but a five centimetre wide white stripe on his head. This man of authority cast a look at the two traitors lying on the ground. No one had touched them, fearing that they might anger the Colonel. Cowardice was rewarded with immediate execution as Marcus and Donodom had learned.
The Colonel's light blue eyes then inspected the Guardsmen in turn. His look was grim and harsh. Discipline was strict and cruel, but it bred competent fighters – and that was required in the Emperor's Imperial Guard. The galaxy was just as cruel and unforgiving, leaving humanity with little choice but to adapt to this cruelness.
"Men," the Colonel said slowly. "Cowards die in shame." The words oozed with contempt and felt like piercing arrows in their own right. "Are there any more cowards sullying our ranks!" he demanded.
"No, sir!" the remnant of the squad said in almost unison.
"Good," the Colonel said, his words leaving his mouth slowly, hovering in the air for a moment. "You have new orders. We are to fortify the space port properly while the glorious Space Marines take out the foul Xenos in the vicinity. We are to assist the evacuation of the civilians and hold the cities at all cost." Brom's eyes again inspected each soldier. "Now is the time for showing your loyalty to the God-Emperor of Terra, men. Now is the time to show human valour. We shall hold each piece of Imperial ground until each and every loyal citizen has been evacuated from Tartarus." He holstered his bolt pistol and sheathed his sword. "Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir!" the Guardsmen cried out. "His will be done!"