In the name of the Emperor, We shall not falter.

Welcome, to the first in my series of Warhammer 40,000 oneshots about my fictional Blue Hawks space marines. I'll shut up now, lets get on with the story.

Disclaimer: As much as I want to, I don't own anything GW makes. I just love the fluff. I own my chapter and my characters.

In the trees, Captain Kylac stared through his visor. He adjusted the settings, and zoomed in. The rebel occupied village wasn't of any strategical importance. He liked that. It meant that his men would have less to worry about if they needed to blow it to the farthest reaches of the Warp. He had taken a small squad of his finest Sternguard, armed to the teeth with various weapons and ammo types. He drew his Plasma pistol, and keyed his comlink.

"Kylac to Lucar. Respond Brother Lucar." He whispered. There was a faint hiss of static, before he heard Lucar's sing-song voice respond to his own call

"Battle-Brother Lucar responding, Captain" the new voice stated "Fireteam two is in position. Have we permission to engage?"

"Negative, Lucar. Get Merrus on the vox back to High command. We may need to call in some Vanguard. The area is highly defended."

"Confirmed, sir." There was another few minutes of static, and Kylac went back to studying the village. Heavily fortified, walls, barricades, tank traps, trenches...no apparent blind spots...wait. There. Underneath the bell tower. We blow that sky-high, draw their attention, and allow Lucar to get in there and cause havoc. Of course, if we get that vanguard squad, they can just drop into the center and allow us easy access...Lucar suddenly responded on the vox

"Sorry, sir. HQ says that we're it."

Kylac swore violently.

"Right, Lucar. Here's the plan. I'm going to take Fireteam one down and blow up the belltower on the west side, drawing their attention. We'll draw their fire, allowing you access. Then we just mop up what's left."

"Alright, sir. Ready when you are."

"Good. Executing in five."

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Lucar stared at the belltower Captain Kylac had indicated. Squinting, he saw something move in the shadows. You're getting sloppy, Captain. He thought with a mental chuckle. He slid out from under the red-leaved tree, and turned to his men.

"This is it brothers. Everyone ready?"

"You know we are, brother" Battle-brother Myll replied with a grin. He snapped his helmet back on.

"Any idea what kind of ammo we should use, Lucar?"

"Dragonfire bolts, Myll. They're not heavily armoured, and the cover won't stand in the way of flame..." Lucar's lecture on the destructive power of the Dragonfire bolts, a round that contained a small amount of promethium that exploded on contact, turning every shell into a small flamer, was interrupted by a rather large explosion. Everyone was suddenly all buisness.

"Myll! Take Yurri and go left! I'll take Mykovic and Bregar straight in. The forest'll protect the right flank."

The mignight-blue armoured marines nodded, slapped in their Dragonfire rounds and dived into the forest, in perfect formation.

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The chest of another rouge PDF trooper blew open in a red mist. Kylac immediately switched his aim to another group of targets, and in about one second of firing on full auto, all three of them were dead. One was missing a head. He dived out from the bullet-ridden wall, taking out another rebel with a groin shot, and rolled behind a nearby pile of rubble. He was joined a second later by Battle-Brother Sumathiel. He glanced at his squad's heavy weapon's expert, how had holstered his heavy bolter in favor of his easier to control bolt pistol.

"Sumathiel, give me some covering fire" Kylac growled, holstering his bolter and drawing his Plasma pistol. The power fist on his left hand crackled into life, and Sumathiel got the sudden impression that the poor b******* over the pile wouldn't stand a chance. He nodded, grabbed the large Heavy Bolter from it's place on his back, and locked the belt feed in place.

"On three, Brother-captain?"

"On three." Kylac agreed.

"One" Kylac's muscles tensed as he prepared to jump.

"Two" Sumathiel rolled onto his front in order to use the rubble to stabalise the heavy weapon he was carrying.

"Three!" They barked in unison. Kylac lept over the mound, and sprinted towards the enemy positions. Behind him, he heard a rapid thunk, thunk, thunk as Sumathiel's heavy bolter spat death out at his foes.

He reached out with his plasma pistol, and vaporised one rebel's head before he'd even turned around. Kylac leaped into the trench, and as the dead rebel's ally turned around, he converted the momentum of his leap into a rather impressive ground pound with his power fist – targeting the man's head. His face was pushed in, blood spurted and fried when the power fist's electrical field hit it, and there were a number of sickening crunch noises. Kylac spun, kicked another rebel in the chest, crushing his lungs, before turning round the corner into the next line of defense. He keyed his vox into Lucar's channel, and barked into it.

"Lucar! I'm in trench alpha-three and need immediate support! Who's closest to me?"

"That would be me and Myll, Brother-sergeant. We're on our way. Hold on for five minutes." the reply crackled back, broken up by the mazes of buildings and other materials.

Kylac leapt over the hastily-made sandbag wall that the rebels had constructed and blasted the face of one off with his plasma pistol. His power fist connected with another's jaw in an uppercut that nearly ripped the man's head off. A volley of autogun fire bounced off his power armour, and he ducked behind a wall, but not before a shot had grazed his optical units. With no other choice, he ripped the helmet off revealing a clean-shaven man with piercing cobalt eyes. With a roar he turned around the edge and blasted two more rebels into vapour before rolling behind a pile of water barrels. Thankfully, it was at this moment that Lucar and Myll arrived. Myll opened up with a stream of Dragonfire bolts at the targets, killing three and giving anyone nearby a serious burn. Lucar must have lost his bolter, because he was now firing with his pistol, killing a man with every shot. The returning fire was innacurate, kicking up dirt from the ground and scraping the paint on Myll's armour.

"About time you showed up Lucar. Where the warp have you been?" Kylac growled.

"Nice to see you too, brother-sergeant. Now, can we please get back to killing these heretics?" Lucar's sarcastic reply came.

Kylac nodded, and as soon as Myll ran out of bullets, he holstered his bolter and drew his pistol and combat knife. Lucar drew his power sword and nodded to Kylac.

"Let's finish this." He growled, bloodlust in his voice.

The trio launched themselves towards the enemy, pistols blazing. Five or six died in the first few seconds of gunfire. The trio of Hawks then lashed out with their weapons.

Blood spurted.

Men screamed.

Men died.

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Lucar and Kylac stood, looking over the carnage. Two hours had passed, and most of the town was theirs. No casualties so far - thankfully

"Fireteam one, this is Brother-sergeant Kylac. Respond."

"Fireteam one here. All clear in the south quadrant Brother Sergeant. We just got a message from Fireteam two – West quadrent's clear too."

"Brothers Myll, Lucar and I have just cleared East quadrant. All that's left is North quadrant. Prepare to move out in five."

"Check that sir. Fireteam one out."

Kylac let out a sigh of relief. He turned to Lucar with a grin on his face.

"Not long until we can leave this hellhole of a town, Brother."

Lucar nodded in agreement, but the grinning face inside the helmet changed to shock. Without time for words, he grabbed Kylac, threw him aside, and placed himself in the line of fire. As Kylac spun in surprise, he saw why Lucar had done that. A lone rebel, armed with a meltagun, had survived.

The marine's senses heightened to incredible levels. Lucar was suddenly aware of all that was living – the gentle sounds of mice, the dust rising in the distance, the shocked expression of his Brother-Sergeant – and drew his Power Sword. As the rebel pulled the trigger, Lucar's sword stabbed him through the chest. The meltagun activated, and blasted threw Lucar's chestplate, liquifying flesh and ceramite, before exiting through his back. The rebel and the marine slumped to the floor, dead.

Kylac dropped to his knees, and screamed his friend's name to the winds. He gently took the helmet off of Lucar's head, and watched as the long, blond hair spilled out. Battle-brother Myll showed up at the same time.

"Brother-Sergeant? What's wro- oh, Emperor, no..."

The two marines looked at the body of their friend and comrade for a few more seconds, before getting up.

"Come. We only have two minutes to prepare for the next assault."

With one last, sorrow-filled glance at his Second, Kylac's face hardend and he turned, keying his vox to give the order to charge.

We cannot grieve now He thought sadly For in the name of the Emperor, we must not falter.

Authors note: Well? What'd you think?Good? Bad? Review anyway.