Through out the Imperium of Man, a saying has lasted. "If you're the Thirteenth man, or your number is Thirteen, your number is up." Some Imperial Guard Companies even went so far as to skip that number. But one company gave that saying to wind. They adopted the so called "unlucky Thirteen". The Emperor's Thirteenth Imperial Guards were some of the best in the galaxy. It was as though the Emperor himself smiled down upon them. When all seemed lost, when it seemed that they would finally meet their end, they would bounce back, and somehow pull out amazing victories for the Emperor. "The Lucky Thirteens" was their company nickname. A skull that had wings and the number 13 carved in the forehead was their symbol and it brought fear into the hearts of Emperor's enemies. What is written here is just one of their stories.
Elite Kasrkin Solder Malcolm F. Besth knew that the planet Gen II was one of the most dangerous in all the Imperium. The Forces of Chaos had erected a large warp gate somewhere on the planet. Watching from the transport's windows, he couldn't help this feeling of dread about the planet. He tried over and over to tell himself that it was battle fatigue. While the battle on the planet had crawled to a seemingly endless stalemate, the battle with Chaos and Orks had raged overhead.
"It's just like those bastard alien Orks to attack us when we're already in battle." He heard another member of his squad complain as they boarded an Ork battleship.
"Quit complaining and start shooting!" Malcolm shouted back at the soldier. Malcolm and his squad had boarded some ten battleships before the call for them to be sent to the surface had come through. Malcolm still couldn't seem to wash the Ork blood from his hands; he hated the smell of their deaths, but relished in the fact that they had caused a blow to the alien freaks.
Malcolm had always been a bit of a stunning man, with hard brown eyes, and dark brown hair. He was tall, and fit after all the training he went through to be a Kasrkin. He thanked his Sergeant everyday in battle for making his training so grueling. Now that he was a Sergeant himself, he expected nothing less then perfection from himself and the men under him.
He watched as the craft landed in the Imperial Capital. Malcolm and his men grabbed their gear and put on their armored flat jackets. Malcolm had disliked helmets since he was but a simple Guardsman on Secil. Instead, he placed the optical sight in the implants he had installed. The sight increased his accuracy and gave him direct access to any units monitoring the battlefield, whichever one he was at. Malcolm led his men out of the docking bay and into the space port.
"Sergeant Besth!" Malcolm turned around to see a Commissar with a unit of Guardsmen running to him. Malcolm and his men straightened and saluted the Commissar once he reached them.
"I am Commissar Jacobs Deveror. Imperial General Rin wishes to see you at once; your men can wait at the barracks." Deveror was dressed like any other Commissar Malcolm had to deal with. He was a short man, dark eyes under his cap, and a large scar crossing his face.
Malcolm nodded and handed his weapon and equipment to his next in command. "Follow the men back to barracks, and stay out of trouble."
"Yes sir!" John shouted, saluting Malcolm.
"If you would lead the way, Commissar." Malcolm followed the Commissar, who kept the squad around him always. Malcolm noticed a black 13 was tattooed under his right eye as he jogged next to him. Malcolm himself had a large 13 tattooed on his upper left arm, but it was hidden under his flat jacket. Instead, Malcolm had the company symbol painted on both arm plates and right front plate, with his rank insignia fused onto the left plate. "What is the situation, Commissar?"
"General Rin wishes to personally speak with you about that, I am to tell you nothing of the kind." Commissar Deveror stated. He sounded annoyed by the question.
"Understood sir!" Malcolm hated the dogmatic Commissar already. They reached the General's quarters within a few moments. Malcolm noticed some Fifty Ogryn members around the building. They were large, seemingly stupid creatures. Mutants the Emperor used for the Guardsmen, incredibly strong men with simple weapons. Malcolm had once seen two Ogryn fend off some two hundred Orks with their reaper guns.
"Sergeant Malcolm, it's good to see you." General Rin stated once the Commissar and his men left the room. He was taller then Malcolm, his battle metals jingling once he stood. His hair had once been red, but it was a steely gray now. His eyes were still kind, although the scar over his mouth looked worse.
"It's always good to see you sir." Malcolm replied shaking the General's hand.
"Come have a look." Rin pointed to the battle table. It was pretty much a computer screen that had a worldwide map, showing the known locations of the enemy. "We are here, in the Capital." Rin pointed to the center of the map. "The Orks have a large base here." He pointed to the right of the map; from the looks of it, it was a jungle. "We have kept them back from most of the major population, but of course they came out of nowhere. Now our real concern." Rin hit buttons on the side to zoom in on an area off to the upper left of the table. "The Forces of Chaos swarm this area, and I have reason to believe that their Warp Gate is around here somewhere."
"What's my mission sir?"
"I am sending you with the next convoy to the jungle."
"The jungle sir?"
"Yes, I believe that Chaos is doing something with the Orks, just because we know where the Chaos are, doesn't always mean that they are there. It could be a ploy to distract us, so I want you to go with Commissar Deveror and destroy the Ork base." Malcolm shifted on his feet uneasily. "Then you are to press on to either wipe out the aliens, or discover the heretics. Is there a problem with that? You don't look to happy to be with the good Commissar."
"Sir…May I speak freely?"
"Of course, Malcolm."
"Sir you know how I feel about the Commissars as a whole, Deveror is the same or worse."
"Sergeant Besth, he is a Commissar and higher rank then you. Deveror has been in this company far longer then you and is one hell of a soldier!" Rin was growing angry.
"Sir, yes, Sir!" Malcolm saluted.
"Trust me Malcolm. You'll find out he can chew dirt just as good as you can."
Deep inside the Ork base, Warboss Gron Frezz was preparing his troops. "Alright, listen up youz Boyz! Wez goin to take on those humiez, Imperial Guard boyz!" Gron looked like any other Warboss, big, green, lots of robotic parts. He even had his pointy stick held high, with several human skulls on it.
"But boss?" A Choppa Boy started. "Those humiee Chaos boyz said we should wait for those Guard boyz to came to us?"
"Shut up you git!" Gron grabbed the boy and slammed him on the ground, crushing his skull in one slam, but he continued to pound him anyway. "Iz the Warboss and youz all follow me, or I'll gut you like this scum sucker!"
"Yez Boss!!" The rest of Gron's 'Waagh!' shouted.
"Good, nowz wez goin to have some fun." Gron couldn't help his uncontrollable laughter.
Malcolm had requisitioned a Guardsman to show him where the barracks were located. A large group of civilians were moving into the city. "Soldier, what is happening to those people?"
The Guardsmen looked over at them. "Oh, those are just refuges sir, probably from the Ork overrun civil centers, but every now and then-."
"Chaos! CHAOS!" A group of Guardsmen shouted, and soon a battle broke out. Malcolm ran to battle, it looked like a group of cultists hid within the group of refuges. Malcolm picked up a rifle from a dead Guardsman. He ran firing into the battle. Cultists were slaughtering the civilians, trying to curve a path through them into the city.
Malcolm knocked a cultist to the ground and fired into him, his chest exploded. He fired a head shot to take down another cultist in a bloody mist. "Keep one alive." But the Guardsmen fired more. "Keep one alive, damn it!" Malcolm swept low and knocked a cultist over his shoulder. Then fired at two cultists, one had his stomach blow through, the other had a shell land in the barrel of his gun which exploded taking half of his face with it.
A Guardsmen got shot next Malcolm, which he saw a frag grenade on his belt. As the Guardsmen fell he grabbed the grenade, pressed the trigger and casually threw the weapon. It exploded behind the group of enemies, heaving their ruined corpses over the Guardsmen. Malcolm raised his weapon up to block the sword of a cultist; he knocked the sword from his hands and fired twice. Once in the shoulder removing his right arm, then once in the chest just above the collar bone, removing his head from his shoulders.
Another cultist was running at him, Malcolm shook his head and pulled the trigger. But the weapon's ammo was depleted. "SHIT!" Malcolm dodged the cultist by dropping to his knees, grabbing the knife in his boot and driving the blade home through the cultist's chest and into his heart. He slashed through the cultist, blood sprayed the ground, he threw the corpse to the ground as another cultist ran at him. Malcolm wrapped his arm around the cultist's arm and drove the blade again into the cultist chest, but the force of the cultist had picked him up knocked him to the ground. And with the momentum he gained he threw the cultist off him, still holding onto his knife.
Malcolm spun around and was on his feet killing another enemy by stabbing him in the gut and grabbing his pistol. Malcolm fired at the few cultists left, killed three with chest shots and one with a round that went through his jugular, spraying a Guardsman close by with blood. Finally all the cultists fell, Malcolm walked through the bodies, seeing if anyone was still alive. He came across one cultist that was on his knees, his eyes wide, and mouth agape in the last moments of his death. A hole had been blown right through him, and the light from the sun made a hole in his shadow. Malcolm smirked and kicked the cultist over, his body sprayed blood every which way. Malcolm tilted his head, but it was too late, some blood splatter stained his face.
He sighed, wiping the blood from his face and spit on the ruined body. "Son of a bitch just had to get me in the end, huh?" Malcolm kicked the body and moved on. One cultist was still alive, hiding in the gore till he saw the Sergeant. He raised his bolter pistol, and the crack of a gun went off. Malcolm lunged around to see the Commissar standing over what was left of a cultist's upper body. "Commissar…I guess I owe you one." Malcolm stated in shock.
"Think nothing of it; you would have done the same for me." Commissar and his squad moved on, firing on anything Chaos that moved.
"Well there goes me needing one alive." Malcolm told himself, and then jogged after the Commissar. "Tell me, Commissar do these attacks happen often?"
"Every now and again, we have to let the refuges into the city, but it is sometimes hard to tell just how far the threat of Chaos can be. Some times we can catch these cultists before they enter the city, sometimes we can't, and so you see what happens when we can't."
"Yes I do." The Commissar nodded and then fired into a cultist. Malcolm's distrust of the Commissar was disappearing, slowly.
Somewhere in Chaos controlled lands, Lord Jehoshaphat of the Blood Spillers chapter was standing on a hill over looking today's battle against the Imperial Guard. He was tall, his armor dark red with the trim black. He had a bit of a kind face, but looks deceive. The Blood Spillers symbol was pointed teeth with drops of blood staining them and falling. The symbol was on the left side of his armor.
Lord Jehoshaphat noticed his Chaos Sorcerer, Merari, coming up the hill. His true height he couldn't tell, Sorcerers wore full body armor, and the points on the helmet always made him seem taller. Merari's armor was painted much the same as his.
"Can you feel it, Merari? Once I destroy the Imperial Guard on this pathetic world, I will be worthy in the eyes of the Chaos gods. I'll gain my Daemonhood and be powerful. And then I can begin my blood conquest, they will think it's just one or two planets, and then it will be too late." Lord Jehoshaphat laughed his most sinister laugh.
"I am sorry to interrupt Lord Jehoshaphat-" The Sorcerer started, but Jehoshaphat cut him off.
"Yes what is it, Merari?" He stopped laughing and took a deep breath.
"My Lord, it seems that the Imperial Guard is mobilizing against Gron, and Gron, it seems, has gone ahead and started to push the Guardsmen back."
"WHAT! Gron that fool, I knew I should have killed him on Crae. That fool Ork will cost me more then his little mind can comprehend."
"Be that as it may Lord Jehoshaphat, I think we should move some of our forces back to the Warp Gate and begin preparing a defense."
"Good idea, Merari!" Jehoshaphat started down the hill but stopped. "Merari?"
"Yes, my Lord?"
"Get the spell and a 'volunteer' ready, I want to have a little surprise for those Guardsmen once they reach the Warp Gate."
Merari smiled under his helmet. "Of course my Lord, it will be my pleasure." He replied in a most sinister way, which left Jehoshaphat laughing all the way down the hill.
It was only three days after the cultist attack on the city when Malcolm and his squad joined Commissar Deveror and his men. They traveled by way of Chimera troop transports into the hellish jungle. Malcolm's Kasrkin squad traveled in their own transport.
"Ok, listen up. We are here for only one reason, and that is to rid this world of the Emperor's enemies. First, the general wishes us to destroy the large Ork base in the jungle. After that, we are to press on for two reasons. One is to both hunt down the Orks and wipe them out, or we might discover the Chaos Forces' Warp Gate, and if we find it, we destroy it."
"Understood Sir!" His men replied, inspiring morale was never a problem for Malcolm. He placed his hand on the side of his sight and pushed a few buttons, soon the readings from the Sentinels that where scouting ahead was scrolling in front of his eye. For the most part it was normal, hot and humid, but normal, and Malcolm had learned that there was never a normal day in his book.
A shell exploded two transports up, wiping out three full squads of Guardsmen. Soon shells seem to come at them like rain. Malcolm ordered his troops to exit the transport. Once outside the road had been decimated by shells. Most of the Guardsmen were confused and disoriented, or dead.
Malcolm couldn't find the Commissar for the life of him. So he spurred into action. "Alright Imperial Guard, follow me!" Malcolm charged up the road. Shells exploded all around him, but he still bolted up the road. He never bothered to look behind him and continued up a hill to find that they where on the edge of a battle. He gritted his teeth and shouted. "FOR THE EMPEROR!"
The roar of men behind overpowered the sounds of battle, many of the Orks and Imperial Guard looked up to watch the sea of green and number 13s come running down the hill and join in battle. Malcolm let his rapid fire Lasgun rip through the Ork hoard. He jumped into the trench that held the Orks at bay. Malcolm blind fired over the trench and was rewarded with the groans of Orkish death.
An Ork grenade landed in-between Malcolm's feet; he quickly picked it up and threw it back over his head. It exploded a few feet away, kicking up dust and dirt that spilled over the trench on top of him. He shook his head and most of the dirt flew off. He looked out over the trench. It would seem that the tidal wave of green never ended. He lowered himself back into the trench, trying to think of something, anything that would turn the tide of his battle.
Gron was on the back side of his base, with Lord Jehoshaphat and Merari.
"Gron you fool! Tell me why I shouldn't kill you right now?" Jehoshaphat shouted at the towering Ork.
"Iz was gettin tired of wait inz for you Chaos Boyz to come and start da fightinz, so I dis it me self." Gron spoke proudly in his Orkish tone. Jehoshaphat sneered and kicked Gron off his feet with one mighty blow to the chest, denting the armor on the Warboss.
"Gron give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you where you lay?" Jehoshaphat brandished his war scythe.
"My Lord?" Merari spoke in a quiet, calming voice.
"WHAT!?"
"It might be a good idea to leave him be, with the spell I have placed on the Ork warriors, we will be ready soon, and have more then enough blood to make sure we succeed." Jehoshaphat sneered and grinded his teeth, but he removed his scythe.
"So be it." Jehoshaphat started to walk away, but he quickly whipped around and pointed one metal clad finger at Gron. "Hear me Gron, if so much as one Guardsman leaves your base before the spell is ready, I won't care if you are dead. I will search Hell for you and then I'll kill you again. Do you understand me!?"
Before Gron could even think of something to say, Lord Jehoshaphat and Merari were already gone.
Soon the reassuring sound of tank treads could be heard. Malcolm looked over to see what was left of the Leman Russ Battle Squad that was coming up behind them and started firing. They looked like tanks of the old days, before space travel was possible. One large cannon on the top turret and two smaller guns on the side. A smile surfaced on his face, he looked about to see that all the morale of the Guardsmen increased greatly.
Malcolm climbed on top of the trench and shouted. "For the Imperium, for the Emperor, and for the Imperial Guard!" He led a devastating charge. The wall of Orks exploded into red mist as every Guardsman fired at once. Soon the Leman Russ tanks fired and Malcolm lead the men through the Ork ranks and were approaching their base quickly. He could almost hear the Warboss shout his distress.
Malcolm fired wildly while running, it really didn't matter if he aimed; as long as he fired in front of him, he killed an Ork. The guns on top of 'Waagh!' banners started to blaze with fire. Malcolm fired on the banner closet to him, killing the smaller Ork on top of it. Explosions ripped throughout the base, Leman Russ tanks must have been in firing range. Malcolm spotted Orks with rockets strapped to their backs take off from inside the base.
"Fire on those Orks!" He shouted to anyone who could hear him. Lasguns erupted beside him, many of the shots punctured the rockets and they exploded in flash of fiery death that hailed like rain over Ork and Guardsmen alike. The Ork base was very close by.
They poured into the base like water from a dam breaking. Many of the Ork buildings collapsed because of their poor construction. One shell from the Leman Russ tank, or a shell from a Basilisk artillery cannon, which was pretty much an over sized gun on a moving platform, caused the death of an Ork building. Malcolm weaved through the explosions and Ork gun fire. If he could find the Warboss and put him out of his petty alien life, this would be over for the Ork 'Waagh!'.
The Ork Boyz proved to be more resolved then Malcolm had understood. Once in the base, the Orks stopped the wave of Guardsmen. Malcolm had a hard time fighting through rank after rank of green skin, trying to find the Warboss. Soon he found himself pinned down by gun fire from one of the Ork buildings. Several Guardsmen were around him.
"Grenades? Does any one have some Grenades?" Malcolm shouted his question. Most of the soldiers shook their heads. But one soldier threw an Ork grenade his way. "Ok you come with me, the rest of you give us covering fire!" The soldier stood behind him, Malcolm pointed across the lane and the soldier nodded. He counted to three then ran for it. The soldier was two steps behind him and the other men fired at the building. Malcolm noticed that a few Orks had taken up positions around the building. The Guardsmen covering them kill two or three, but there had to be fifteen or twenty of the aliens around the building.
Malcolm and the soldier made their way around the building and across another lane to get closer to the Ork position. Malcolm shot through an Ork door and rushed into an empty building. Inside, Malcolm found a window and saw what the Orks were guarding. It was what was called a Pile O' Guns to the Orks- All the arms that they captured during raids, or had won from the battlefield. Malcolm couldn't help but smile. It was too easy, if they could get one grenade to land on top of a mine, or a rocket or something, the building would looking like a shell going off.
Malcolm and the soldier made their way outside, out the side of the building. One of the Orks must have spotted them because as the tried to get closer, they heard one of the beasts roar and they came under fire. He leapt into another Ork building and pulled the soldier as he tried to return fire. Bolter rounds cut through the building as Malcolm hugged the ground. Actually it was lucky that they were firing into the building because several Orks still in the building were cut down by friendly fire. Malcolm watched as one of the Orks had his head cut off and it rolled toward him.
"Nasty fuckers." Malcolm grabbed the head and threw it out through a hole of gunfire. The gunfire stop in the building, giving Malcolm time to arm the grenade and threw it out small hole facing the position. It exploded causing several others, the shockwave knocked Malcolm off his feet and the building came down on him. Something clocked him in the head. He wasn't sure if he was dead or not, but darkness gripped him and he lost consciousness.
The Warp Gate was a huge, round stone structure. Dark reds and purples pulsed and weaved through out the opening. Chaos Space Marines flooded out of the gate every second, all bearing the colors and symbol of the Blood Spillers. A stone alter was erected in front of the gate. Jehoshaphat stood on the altar, which he had proudly named the Altar of Blood and Pain. His 'volunteer' was an aspiring champion, who was kneeing in front of Lord Jehoshaphat.
"Chaos is power, blood is power, and all power demands something. You have been chosen to be power, you will have bestowed on you the second greatest gift a Blood Spiller can be given. You will be the Chaos Gods' will incarnate on this petty planet."
"Yes, my Lord."
"Good, good…" Lord Jehoshaphat was most pleased, till he saw a cultist come running toward him.
"My-M-y L-or-d?" He asked stuttering and frightened.
"What is it!?" Jehoshaphat shouted the question.
"It-t-t seems-s-s that the Orks hav-e have-e-e…"
"Spit it out!"
"The Ork's base has fallen s-s-s-i-i-i-r-r-r…"
"DAMN IT!" Jehoshaphat jumped down off the altar and let his scythe fly and cut the cultist in two across the left shoulder. Blood sprayed the area around the body; covering Jehoshaphat from the chest down. "Those damn Orks, I knew I should have done this myself."
"Lord Jehoshaphat?" Merari asked calmingly.
"Yes Merari!?" He shouted angrily.
"The spell is ready, my Lord."
"Finally, good news for a change!" Jehoshaphat started toward the front lines.
"My Lord! What of the spell, don't you want it performed now?" Merari asked, going after him.
"No…I want to wait until the Guard is here, I don't want them to know exactly where we are just yet. Once the Imperial Guard finds us, then by all means, Merari, but until then I want it to be ready."
"Yes, my Lord." Merari bowed, but Jehoshaphat was already on his way to the frontlines.
"…Sergeant?" Malcolm thought he heard someone shout at him. "…Sergeant!?...Sergeant!" Malcolm shook his head and tried opening his eyes; he had a sharp pain on the back of his head. "Thank the Emperor you're alive, sir." John stated as he picked Malcolm out of the rubble. He put Malcolm's arm over his shoulder and hoisted him up and out. Malcolm put his hand on the back of his head and felt a lump.
"Damn my head hurts." Malcolm stated to no one in particular. He scanned what was left of the building. The soldier that had followed him laid there, a large piece of metal protruding from his chest. His eyes were wide open and his mouth agape with a silent scream of death. Malcolm shook his head in distaste. Once he began to walk, the feeling in his legs returned and he could move without any help.
Large tanks with flamethrowers known as Hellhounds were burning down what was left of the Ork base. Soon many of the buildings were just ash, or a scorch mark of melted metal.
"How did it go, John? Is the Warboss dead?" Malcolm asked when they got to the troop medic and he was giving the Sergeant a once over.
"It went fine, but the Warboss isn't dead, we couldn't find him." John replied.
"Damn them. Orks only ever retreat to regroup, if they don't attack us here, they might swing around and go for Civilians." Malcolm stated as the medic was bandaging a minor cut on his right forearm.
"That is exactly why I am leading the hunt after them, Sergeant." It looked like the Commissar wasn't killed in battle, and was in fact in better spirits then before.
"Commissar, glad to see an Ork hasn't taken your head yet." Once the medic was finished, Malcolm waved him away.
"General Rin told me that you were headstrong, I guess I had to see you in action to understand just how much. Regardless, Orks roam the jungle and we still have to find out if the Forces of Chaos are in these lands."
"Are you insinuating that I am not up to the task?"
"I am not insinuating anything, I am stating."
Malcolm grew angry. "Commissar, I have fought Daemon, Ork, and even Eldar on some fifteen different planets. I am more then capable, ready, and willing to hunt Ork or Chaos down to the last man if the Emperor wills." He was close to shouting by now.
"Good, then gather up your men and gear and let us remove these filthy aliens from one of the Emperor's worlds."
Warboss Gron was hiding with about fifty Boyz in a clearing some twenty miles away from his once great 'Waagh!'.
"What we goin to do Boss?" A Boy asked.
"How should I know? Those Guard boyz whipped us but good, and those Chaos boyz are going to kill us if wez go back to them." Gron looked worried as he nervously scanned his group of Boyz. "Hey find me a flyer boy!"
"We ain't got any shipz left Boss!" Another Boy stated.
"WHAT!? Are you tellin me that all our ships are gone?" Gron slumped down and looked as those he was going to cry. He was dead, one way or another, he was dead. He suddenly got an idea. "Better it be dos Guard boyz then those Chaos boyz. Are wez Orks, or wez are Orks!?" His Boyz shouted.
"ORKS! ORKS! ORKS! ORKS!" Over and over again as they marched through the jungle to their certain death.
They had spread out wide throughout the jungle, every five hundred yards a Leman Russ battle tank accompanied the men. Malcolm took little comfort in that fact. He kept his eyes open and as much battle data scrolling as he could. It wasn't the gunfire that took him off guard; it was that fact that he was shooting.
What was left of the Ork 'Waagh!' had broken through the jungle tree line and was charging straight to him. Malcolm let his Lasgun roar. Every shot that hit the Warboss, he seemed to just shrug off. Malcolm killed four Orks around the Warboss before he slammed into him. The force of the blow sent Malcolm flying, and once he hit the ground he had the wind knocked out of him. He shook his head and was back on his feet in a minute; he raised his gun, but the Warboss grabbed hold of it and chopped it in two. The Warboss once again sent him flying. Malcolm was running out of ideas.
He staggered to his feet, and discarded what was left of his weapon. He heard the Warboss roar and come charging for him. Malcolm jumped and fell on his back when the Warboss took a swing at him with his knife hand. The Warboss continued the attack, and Malcolm was going by instinct.
Without thinking he freed his side arm for the holster on his hip and took aim. When the Warboss roared again, this time only a couple feet from Malcolm, he fired. The bolter rounds entered the Warboss' spine from inside his mouth, three times. The damn Ork kept running at him, so Malcolm rolled out of the way. It ran another ten feet before it tripped and collapsed.
Malcolm slowly got to his feet and walked over to what was left of the Warboss, and one round at a time, emptied his clip into it's head. He raised the gun up, ejected the empty clip and fed a fresh one into the weapon. He slid the slide back, loading a round into the barrel, and he clicked the safety off.
Three Orks jumped into an attack against Malcolm. He fired one round into the abdomen of one, then dived out of the way of the other two. Malcolm leapt to his feet and fired a round at point blank range at another. The beast's rather small brain exploded out the back of his head, causing the Ork behind him to grab his eyes when brain, blood, and bone entered them.
"Buy two, get one free." Malcolm told himself as he fired a round right between the eyes of the last Ork. Blood splattered his face and he flinched as the Ork blood met his skin. Malcolm picked up an Ork grenade, aimed it and threw it at five that were running straight at him. Once the grenade hit the ground, so did Malcolm, and the explosion ripped the five of them to pieces.
"Sergeant!" Malcolm looked over to see once again that the Commissar was alive. "Sergeant, did you kill the Warboss?"
"Didn't have much of a choice, if that answers your question." Malcolm stated as he reloaded his bolter pistol.
"No…good work, Sergeant." Malcolm was taken back; he even stepped back and fired a round. It zoomed past the Commissar and caught one of the last Orks in his right eye, leaving a hole Malcolm could see through.
"Now we're even." The Commissar could only nod as he watched the Ork fall over. "Let's go destroy a Warp Gate."
Lord Jehoshaphat stood on top of the trench that his warriors had dug. He watched as the Imperial Guard cleared away what was left of those troublesome Orks.
"See those fools!" Jehoshaphat pointed at the red lights from the Lasguns. "They still follow the false Emperor! They know nothing of pain and suffering…but they will soon learn all they can stand of pain, from the Blood God. BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!" He roared to his men.
"BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!" Jehoshaphat's men roared back. Soon, he knew, soon he would wipe out the Imperial guard and win his Daemonhood. Soon… The Blood God seemed to whisper to him.
Malcolm raced up the steep mountainside. Chaos soldiers fired at him, his men returned fire; it was all part of the hellish jungle they were fighting in now. "Where the fuck did they come from!?" Malcolm roared his anger as he fired his Lasgun, ending four Chaos Space Marines. They fell to their knees and then slid past Malcolm on the steep incline.
"For the Emperor!" Malcolm heard the Commissar shout as he reached the top of the mountain first. He was removing his sword from the corpse of a fallen Chaos Marine. He didn't have time to envy the good Commissar as bolter rounds cut into a tree he was standing close to. Malcolm's Lasgun roared with fire as he took down two more Chaos Marines.
Once he reached the top he saw it. The Warp Gate was huge and red, and purple hues radiated from the open rift. This was not going to be easy. Malcolm pulled several troops up, looking for heavy weapon teams; he knew that they were going to be needed for their heavy guns.
Malcolm would have waited a little while longer, but the impact of the lascannon only ten feet in front of him was a pretty good sign to get off the mountain. Fire from the Warp Gate and the immediate area was fierce, Malcolm wasn't sure if the "Lucky 13s" could pull it off this time.
Then a single message scrolled in front of his eyes.
Hold out for a little while longer Malcolm, I have something in store for those Heretics.
-General Rin
What choice did Malcolm have? He started to run down the mountain side at a blinding speed. He thanked the Emperor for not letting him hit a tree. Once he reached flat land he dove to avoid a grenade that was thrown at him. The explosion caused a tree to be knocked down, missing Malcolm by about a foot. Maybe his luck wasn't about to run out after all.
Malcolm shot to his feet and ran at the Chaos forces. Bolter rounds, Lasguns, explosions, shouting, dying, it all happened around him. Malcolm continued to fire, killing several Chaos Marines with a lot of head and throat shots. A shell exploded in the trench in front of him and Malcolm threw himself on the ground, sliding into the crater. Several more Guardsmen jumped into the trench as well.
"What do we do, sir?" One Guardsman asked, frightened.
"You're a Thirteen man! We fight until there is no one left to carry on the battle." Malcolm rose up out of the crater and shouted. "WE ARE THE LUCKY THIRTEENS, WE NEVER STAY DOWN!" Then he ran toward the Chaos trench like a bat out of hell. He sprayed the trench with rounds from his weapon, blood and metal stained the dirt walls. Malcolm leapt with ease into the trench kill any Chaos troop that he came across.
"Blood for the Blood God!" Several Chaos troops shouted when they jumped into the trench next to Malcolm. They wielded an axe and a bolter pistol. Only one human troop in all of Chaos used axes, Khorne Berzerkers, most fierce and fanatical of all the Blood God Khorne's army.
Malcolm was barely able to dodge the Berzerkers' axe as it rammed into the left trench wall while trying to take off his head, then into the right wall without scoring a hit. He fired when the axe got stuck, the rounds ripped into the Berzerker's chest and head. As soon as Malcolm was sure the Berzerker was dead, another one ripped through the last one and started to attack him. Malcolm grabbed his frag grenade, armed it and tossed it behind the Berzerkers, then jumped out of the trench.
Eight Berzerker bodies came flying out of the trench. The torso of one of the Berzerkers landed in front of Malcolm. He tried to raise his pistol, but the Lasgun ended the last few minutes of his insanity quickly. Malcolm climbed to his feet slowly; a rush of Guardsmen flew past him firing, killing, and dying.
Malcolm shook the ringing from his ears and scanned the battlefield. He raised his Lasgun in time to end two Chaos cultists about to fire on some of the men who passed him. But it was already too late for them, the Chaos Lord cut them down with his scythe. The Chaos Lord threw the Guardsmen every which way, and then spotted Malcolm. He started to run toward him at a speed Malcolm hadn't known one could obtain in armor. The Chaos Lord cleared the trench easily and closed the distance quickly. Malcolm was firing at him all the while, but it did little to stop or even slow the Lord down.
The Chaos Lord sliced through the Lasgun with ease, then slammed the base of the scythe into Malcolm's face and he flew back. Malcolm got to his feet in a second, grabbed his knife and raised it in defense. The Chaos Lord laughed at his foolish weapon. Malcolm blocked the scythe at the blade with his right hand; his left went for his sidearm. Malcolm raised the pistol and fired three times. One round hit the Chaos Lord in the lower left plate, the second dead straight in the chest plate, the Chaos Lord tilted his head and the last bolter round passed by his right cheek. The Chaos Lord slammed the back of the scythe to Malcolm's abdomen, knocking him back again.
"Foolish, my little blood bag…foolish" The Lord told him as he pressed his hand to the wound on his right cheek. "I am surprised you're so brave, my little friend. You might have become a Chaos Lord yourself, but sadly I will have to end you." The Lord raised the scythe, Malcolm tried to raise his gun but he kicked it away effortlessly. The Lord slammed the scythe down, but Malcolm's instincts kicked in and he rolled to the right and slammed his foot into the Lord's face. The Lord was knocked to the ground; Malcolm got to his knees and leapt on top of him. He raised his knife high and tried to ram the blade into the Lord's neck, but he caught Malcolm's hand. Then he slammed his fist into Malcolm's stomach and threw him off.
Malcolm rolled back onto his feet and the Chaos Lord grabbed hold of his scythe and removed it from the ground. The Lord took a mighty swing. Malcolm could only block the blade and spin around to avoid taking a direct hit. The Lord took another swing which Malcolm dove to avoid. The Lord threw his scythe at Malcolm and he could only watch as it came straight for his forehead.
Malcolm had no idea what he was thinking, but he nicked the blade with his knife and the scythe only cut over his left eye, destroying his optical sight and cutting deeply into his forehead. Malcolm ripped the sight from his head as it gave him and electric shock. Malcolm screamed from the pain.
Although he screamed with all his might, he could still hear the Chaos Lord laugh at him with that evil laugh of his. "Don't you see it's foolish to have fought me, my friend? I, Lord Jehoshaphat of the Blood Spillers chapter, have ended you. I can only hope that you didn't put too much faith in your false Emperor to be redeemed in the eyes of the Chaos Gods." While he spoke he kicked Malcolm on to the ground and even went so far as to turn his back on him and picked up his scythe. "Blood for the Blood God." Jehoshaphat raised his scythe to his hands and turned to swing at Malcolm. Malcolm now was sure that his luck had ended.
"Blood for the Blood God." Jehoshaphat spoke and raised his scythe, turned and swung. Before his stroke fell, a sword blocked his attack. It was a Commissar's sword. Jehoshaphat sneered and saw the Commissar.
"Go Malcolm, destroy the Warp Gate!" The good Commissar shouted at Malcolm, who nodded, got up and ran. Jehoshaphat leapt over the Commissar, trying to kill this Malcolm. But the Commissar raised his gun and fired a round that entered Jehoshaphat's upper left arm. Jehoshaphat landed roughly on his feet a couple of yards away.
"You'll regret that, good Commissar." Jehoshaphat snarled at him and charged. The Commissar fired at him, but Jehoshaphat knocked the rounds away with his scythe, then cut into the weapon and ripped the gun away. Jehoshaphat slammed the butt of the scythe into the ground and removed the useless bolter pistol from the blade; he tossed it aside like a broken toy. Jehoshaphat removed his scythe from the ground and raised it with a look of bloodlust that could chill even the most battle hardened of men.
The Commissar blocked the first two attacks, then they locked weapons. Jehoshaphat was leaning over the Commissar, his smile was more like a sneer, but the hint of his happiness couldn't be ignored.
"What are you going to do, good Commissar? Die for your false Emperor?" The Commissar gritted his teeth and slammed his elbow into Jehoshaphat's temple, but he recoiled from the blow. With their weapons unlocked the Commissar slammed his fist into Jehoshaphat's jaw. He had to roll on the ground to gain time to regain his breath.
"I am Commissar Jacobs Deveror of the Immortal Emperor's Thirteenth Imperial Guard Company, also know as the 'Lucky Thirteens', and you will address me as Commissar Deveror, heretic!"
Jehoshaphat noticed blood flowing from his nose and mouth. He stood and spat out most of it and spoke. "As you wish Commissar Deveror!" He raised his scythe and resumed his assault.
Tired, blind in one eye, and in an amount of pain he never thought possible, Malcolm ran toward the mountain. He didn't care if he was armed or not, all he thought about was finding a Leman Russ and shooting the Warp Gate back to the dimension hell it came from.
"Sergeant?" Malcolm heard John shout at him amazed to see the Sergeant still alive.
"John?" He saw John come running down the mountainside. "Two things: shoot the Warp Gate and find me a medic." Malcolm slumped down to the ground. He was tired and out of breath, all he wanted to do was sleep. John was shouting so loud next to him though, he couldn't close his eye to fall asleep. He hoped the Commissar was ok.
"As you wish, Commissar Deveror!" The heretic raised his weapon and swung down at Deveror, he was barely able to block the blow. Deveror threw the attack to his left and swung his sword, cutting into the heretic's left shoulder. He snarled and ripped himself off the blade, only to turn and swing with his own. Deveror blocked the attack and swung with his fist into the Chaos Lord's face again. He spun around and hit Deveror with the butt of his weapon in the abdomen, knocking the wind out of him.
The scythe entered Deveror's right shoulder, bringing him to his knees. "Time you met with the Blood God, good Commissar Deveror." The Lord removed his scythe blade and raised it high in the air. With a flash of steel, it was over.
The Commissar was on his feet, his sword exiting the Chaos Lord from the back. "Sorry, I should have also told you that I am left handed." In a whirlwind of death, the Commissar removed his sword and dislodged his head from the rest of him. The lifeless body that was once Chaos Lord Jehoshaphat of the Blood Spillers chapter fell over slowly in a spray of blood and evil.
Commissar Deveror returned his sword to his right hand and gripped the wound in his shoulder with his left. "Death to the Forces of Chaos!"
Merari was standing on the Alter of Blood and Pain.
"It seems that Lord Jehoshaphat has fallen in battle, my Lords." It didn't seem that he was speaking to anyone.
"So be it Merari, we weren't going to give him his Daemonhood anyway. Find out who killed the Lord and end him, we can't have a common soldier boasting he killed a Chaos Lord."
"As you wish my Lords." Merari turned from the Warp Gate. He saw that the Imperials were starting to push his soldiers back. It was time, he decided. "Blood for the Blood God…BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!" He roared, raising the champion up with his magics. The champion held his head high and rose out his arms. Then without warning he slammed into the ground in a tidal wave of blood.
The medic was finishing taping the bandage in place when Malcolm saw it. A simple soldier was raised over the battlefield then slammed back down to the ground. Malcolm had heard of this ritual, calling forth Khorne's will, it was a Daemon of the foulest kind. The Bloodthirster, it was called. A giant beast Daemon, its skin was as red as blood, hair as black as endless space, a mouth full of sharp teeth, and large wings that could blow clouds like a terrible storm. It wore a black cloth to cover between the waist and knees, and carried an axe that towered over small buildings with a razor sharp edge.
Malcolm rose to his feet, ignoring the shouting of the medic that he should remain. John walked with him as they started toward the battle.
"See if you can't get the fly boys over here, and try to get some fucking support." John started on his com. "Oh, John." He grabbed John by the shoulder. "I need a weapon." John took off his pack and handed his Lasgun to Malcolm. Once the pack was in place and the weapon was loaded he trotted down toward the Bloodthirster.
Deveror was slicing through another Berzerker when he saw the Bloodthirster rise over the battlefield. He placed his foot on top of the Berzerker's chest and pulled his sword free from the corpse's skull.
"Death to Chaos and their vile Daemons!" Deveror shouted over the battle, pointing his sword at the beast. Several grenade launchers sounded at once. Explosions covered the Daemon, but it did little to stop or even slow the Daemon. The beast roared with its mighty lungs.
"That's it, we're done for!" A soldier close to Deveror shouted.
"You have to have permission to die soldier, now keep shooting!" Deveror ordered the men around him. A few men tried to run for it, but Deveror shot them as they ran. "Cowards…If you will not stand in service for Emperor, then you stand on the firing line!"
Malcolm was now in a blind run toward the Daemon, he knocked a Chaos Marine out of his way and fired through two more. Their bodies slumped down; Malcolm put his right foot on one of the bodies and launched himself over the trench. The beast raised its axe over its head and swung down, kicking up an amazing amount of dirt. It was as if an earthquake hit the ground and echoed outward. Malcolm jumped back into the trench as the dirt wave crashed back into the ground.
Malcolm struggled to get back on his feet; he shook the dirt off like a dog and charged back toward the Daemon. It stepped on a few men and kicked others away. It raised its axe again, but this time to cut through men like butter. Malcolm had, for lack of a better term, an insane idea. He unbuckled his belt and waited for the axe to get close to the ground, then leapt onto the axe, whipping his belt around it to keep himself secure.
Once the beast raised the axe to look at him, Malcolm fired into the thing's eye. It roared with pain and swung wildly with the axe, Malcolm hung on for dear life. The beast slammed the axe down on the ground again, and it leapt straight for Malcolm. He caught the frag grenade with one hand. When the beast raised the axe over its head and roared, Malcolm armed it and threw it straight for the beast's mouth.
The Bloodthirster closed its mouth over the explosive. The axe reached behind the Daemon's head before the grenade went off. Its head exploded like a geyser of blood, bone, and brain. The axe spun around a few times, then gracefully landed blade first into the ground. As the axe landed, what was left of the Bloodthirster hit the ground. Malcolm hugged the axe handle with all his might against the wave of earth that assaulted him.
After the dust settled down and Malcolm could breathe, he let go of the axe. He hit the ground with a thud, and watched the sky in dusk. Shades of red and orange were crossing the sky; the clouds were a faint purple color. Malcolm could have laid there forever.
"There is more to you then meets the eye, Sergeant."
"Thank you, Commissar." Malcolm grabbed hold of his hand as the Commissar lifted him up. Once on his feet again, he brushed away the dirt and dust, but it wouldn't be moved because he was covered in blood and the dirt was caked on. Malcolm snorted through his nose. "It looks like I could use a shower, Commissar." Deveror smirked.
"Quite right, Daemons smell horrible Sergeant; you'll earn a medal for this, even if it costs me my position as Commissar."
"Just doing my job, sir." Malcolm halfheartedly saluted. Commissar Deveror straightened and saluted Malcolm, along with whoever else was around. No one expected the blades of the Chaos staff to exit through Deveror. Malcolm shouted but compared to the explosion, no one heard it. Malcolm reached for his sidearm that wasn't there.
"You won today, but at what cost?" The Chaos Sorcerer asked as he disappeared. Malcolm grabbed hold of the Commissar before he fell and set him down gently.
"Oh shit that hurts." Deveror stated, blood coming out of his mouth and nose.
"Quiet Commissar. MEDIC! MEDIC!" Malcolm shouted to no avail.
"Damn it Malcolm, I was just starting to like you too." Deveror groaned. "You're a good soldier, one of the finest to ever wear a uniform."
"Well…thank you Commissar, you have serviced the Emperor well and do his armies justice." The Commissar smiled, then his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he was gone.
The explosion that silenced Malcolm was from the mighty cannon of a Baneblade, the oldest, mightiest tank still in use for the Imperial Guard. Once the Imperium found out that a Warp Gate was constructed, General Rin made the call himself. It was easily the size of a city block, with some eleven heavy weapons covering the massive tank. The main gun made the Warp Gate rubble in a matter of three shots.
The next day, the Imperial Guard succeeded in making Gen II another gem in the Emperor's grand crown of worlds. As the last Chaos Space Marine fell under the sword of Commissar Jacobs Deveror, wielded by Sergeant Malcolm F. Besth, a mighty roar surely even the Emperor could have heard erupted over the tens of thousands of men of the Thirteenth Imperial Guard Company.
Final victory was celebrated and the funeral of Commissar Deveror finally concluded with a few good words from Sergeant Besth. His forehead was bandaged, but his left eye was perfectly fine. General Rin and Sergeant Besth both personally fired Lasguns as a salute to the good Commissar.
Sergeant Besth was awarded the Imperial Cross for unimaginable bravery and valor in the face of impending doom to himself and his men. Much to the regret of his superiors, he kindly refused the position of Commissar, but stayed with the Thirteenth Imperial Guard and still fights alien, mutant, and heretic alike, but with a better relationship with the Commissars of the Imperium.
So ends a tale of bravery in the dark future of 41st Millennium.