The Last Crusade
Disclaimer: don't own don't sue I own zip, absolutely nothing hell I don't even own that
"FIRE!" The Soldier peered warily into the rift that his still smoking meltagun had effectively blasted in the fortified bunker that the tyranids had occupied since that morning. Suddenly he heard a shriek from behind him, and spun around like a top. When he saw what assaulted him he tried to scream, but it was cut short as he was rend in two by claws of horrifying length and sharpness. The soldier had become what imperil soldiers feared most, a casualty. The genestealear peered at his victim as if assessing if he was really dead, when it confirmed this fact it let out a victory scream which ironically was also cut short, this time in surprise, as he watched a power sword sprout from his chest. The commissioner who put it there ripped the sword from the dead genestealears body and without bothering to look, fired his bolt pistol over his shoulder at the genestealear that he knew was there, sneaking up on him. He smiled with grim satisfaction as the bullets whistled toward their target, embedded in the alien's skull with a sickening crunch, and exploded as bolt rounds often do. Colonel Commissioner Ibram Gaunt was his name and title. He was leader of the Tanith 1st, more commonly known as the "Tanith first and only". The Tanith 1st had defended against the first wave of attackers. The regiment was tired and had a day of rest at the back of the defenses; lasguns close by should they be needed.
In the distance he saw a termagant far enough for the commissioner to be out of range of the termagants deadly but inaccurate flesh bore but close enough to be in range of his bolt pistol.
(A/N I know bolt pistols and flesh bores have the same range but hey it's a story Suspend your disbelief)
The commissioner aimed carefully and pulled the trigger but all that he heard was a click. He swore quietly as he realized he was out of ammo, but then he saw a lasgun lying where a dead soldier had dropped it. Not his favorite weapon but it would work.
After he had killed the pesky termagant he took a moment to review the situation. The fight was going badly, the men were tired and loosing ground on all fronts, they needed reinforcements, badly. He took a moment and prayed to the emperor. If he should die then may the emperor have mercy on his soul. As he looked up, almost as in answer to his prayer, they came! Falling from the orange twilight that always engulfed this planet the drop pods fell and at the last moment fired their rockets to slow their decent enough that they didn't explode on impact. One landed about 30 yards away from him. A hatch opened and smoke billowed forth. Five shadowy figures departed, their bulky armor proving that they were indeed terminators, the elite of the already superhuman space marines. The commissioner walked calmly up to the massive figures and asked "Any spare bolt rounds? I'm all out." showing his bolt pistol as if in proof of his need. The terminators looked around skeptically before tossing him five ammo rounds.
Several hours later the imperial guard and space marines celebrated their victory by the light of the xeno pyres. The battle had been won, but at a terrible cost, over a million lives had been lost in the defense of the planet, but the tyranids had almost been wiped out and the race teetered on the brink of extinction.
"So many of the enemies of the Imperium of man had been wiped out recently, the Physic Eldar being the first to go, soon there would be peace. The divine emperor will be at their head. The only major threat were the chaos marines traitors of the Imperium with the dammed traitor Abaddon the despoiler at their head. Since their defeat at the gates of Cadia they had taken to guerilla warfare, popping up killing a sentry and disappearing before so much as a shot could be fired." Colonel Ibram Gaunt thought to himself before gritting his teeth, as a Seven inch piece of shrapnel was removed from his leg. Suddenly he received a transmission "Colonel we have received a report of open hostilities on planet Blagmanth", the colonel recalled the name from his training. It was a barren world completely devoid of life, the only vegetation being a sickly orange lichen that, (from the air) gave the Planet a sickly scabby appearance. Its firm rocky surface made it a choice battle ground. He thought as the transmission continued. "It seems the dammed traitors have decided to make a last stand here. The space marines will be assisting of course. They will mainly be from the blood angles chapter, steer clear of them. They are known to go berserk during battle and attack the nearest person, friend or foe. This may be the last of the black legion so don't let anyone escape alive. If this it truly all of them then the mighty Imperium shall have out lasted all of its foes; but be fore warned there will be over 7 million of the accursed traitors do not under estimate them, out" the commissioner swore quietly to him self. The battle could go either way. Suddenly one of the Tanith appeared grinning roguishly "have you heard the news cap'n, this ought to be a right ole brawl!" Gaunt scowled fiercely before muttering to him self "one that'll likely see us all dead." He had of course, immediately identified the offending man as Cafran, who often referred to the commissar as cap'n. A term Gaunt resented, mainly because he was a commissioner, one of the most feared men in the Imperium and one who should be referred to as such, but Gaunt tolerated it and did not execute the man (as most other commissioners would for showing such disrespect) because Cafran was an fierce fighter, and had many medals (and battle scars) to prove it. Gaunt had another reason, known to none but Gaunt, Cafran and the emperor himself, (who knew all of his men's deepest and darkest secrets.) As the drop ship landed on Blagmanth, each man (and woman) departed. They all (including the Colonel) blanched at the size of the Chaos Marine army. Their ranks stretched for miles; already the battle was in full swing. Near the front line he saw a chaos marine drop, when no one was shooting at him. Then he saw the reason. Snipers! He heard a snipers voice on the wind, one was laughing "Got one that one with the red kilt and horns."
"They've all got red kilts and horns!"
"Ok the big ugly one."
"There all big and ugly too!" the sniper said in an exasperated tone.
"Ok smart ass the one with the big orange helmet stuck through a spike on his back!"
"That one?"
"Yes!"
"Aw, damn it I been after that one all day!"
The Tanith dashed into the fray lasguns blazing, some screaming, some laughing, if it was their time to die, than they would go out in a bang. Each man fought like 20. They died laughing with a gun in their hands and a prayer on their lips. Cafran was an incredible sight taking out an entire squad in mere minutes, despite grievous injuries, all the while laughing his head off. Suddenly Cafran was face to face with Abaddon himself. It was as if the world was in slow motion, Abaddon raised the daemon sword Drach'nyen that could cut through anything using a void, and with it stabbed Cafran through the heart. Cafrans eyes widened in surprise before he died muttering OH.
"NO!" a ragged scream tore from the commissioner's throat as he stared in hatred at the traitor who had just moments ago, slain his son, in his fury the commissioner dropped his bolt pistol and griped his power sword with two hands, raising it above his head with the tip pointing to the ground, whipping his arms forward with all his might and throwing the sword, it was a desperate shot with barely a hope of succeeding, but hope prevailed, and as Abaddon turned to face his next opponent, he turned right into the sword. It struck hard and true and buried its self hilt deep in the traitors' forehead ending his life instantly. Suddenly a voice echoed across the battle ground, "Time to go Paul!"
Suddenly a stubby hand reached from the sky and grabbed a squad of Cadian troupers. Gaunt wasn't surprised, not in the least, in fact he felt no emotion at all, he couldn't, and after all he was only plastic. Right? Paul looked up from the battle he was playing as his dad walking into the hobby shop that held a game night every Thursday. He sighed resignedly as he reflected on the current battle; it had been a good one, a scenario that he would have to try again. Oh well, maybe next week.
THE END
Not bad for my first fic But I'm the author you tell me how I did. R&R it'll make my day, hell it'll make my year
By: Devils Advocat
3