Welcome to the story of the Life Takers, my own Chapter of Space Marines.
Please be patient as I may not update frequently. I appreciate any constructive, civilly-worded criticism.
Prologue
It was dark in the festering, corrupted heart of the space hulk Monstrous Agony, so dark that their auto-senses could just barely cut through the stygian gloom even with the assistance of their power armour's night-vision. Every Space Marine still standing in the cramped cogitator chamber knew that the odds were stacked against them, but none failed to find the courage within himself to adhere to his duty to the Imperium.
A single beam of light from the ceiling cut through the darkness like a laser lance slicing through the pitch-black expanse of space as the lights in the high ceiling of the archive flickered to life. What would have been revealed to an onlooker was a fearsome sight indeed; twelve hulking Terminator Marines, clad in their awesome Tactical Dreadnought Armour, their colours night-black with blood-red shoulder plates. Their armour was far from pristine, with long, ragged gouges and bullet scars lining the heavy-gauge plasteel. Some were scars of battles long gone, for every Terminator of the Space Marines was inevitably a veteran of centuries' worth of conflict, but many of the scars that they bore today were fresh, bestowed upon them by the weapons of their ancient and most hated enemy, the forces of Chaos.
Chaplain Kelrond pulled himself onto one of the ancient logic engines, surveying what remained of the strike force through the eye slits of his skull-mask. While not one of the towering Terminators, he nevertheless cut an impressive figure, his ancient power armour adorned with numerous purity seals and honour badges, a bolt pistol held in his left hand, and his crackling crozius arcanum held in his right. His battle-brothers returned his steely gaze, looking to their beloved Chaplain for his final words of inspiration in their darkest hour.
"Battle-brothers!" cried Kelrond in a voice that was loud, resonant and undeniably mighty. "What is our creed?"
"With bolters in our hands, and faith in our hearts, we crush the enemies of the Imperium!" intoned every Terminator, speaking as one despite being many.
"And we have done so, my worthy brothers!" nodded Kelrond, stamping one armoured foot down as if to punctuate his sentence. "We are Life Takers! The holy warriors of the Emperor, who is our father on Terra!"
Kelrond leapt from the cogitator, landing on the deck-plates with a dull 'thud!' He glanced at each Terminator, their individual names flashing through his mind, great champions of humanity. They were more than the storm bolters and power fists they brought to bear against the enemy, they were the holy blade of the God-Emperor himself. His eternal will made manifest.
Life Takers. Kelrond reflected for a brief moment on that proud title. They were Life Takers, among the finest Chapters of Space Marines the Imperium had the pride to call its own, descended from the mighty Ultramarines of Roboute Guilliman. Adeptus Astartes. The Emperor's finest.
"The enemy awaits us!" Kelrond began slowly walking towards the doors of the cogitator chamber, beyond which lay the Monstrous Agony's warp engines. Beyond those doors were also hundreds of the enemy, hideous daemons of the Plague God, Nurgle, and the foul human cultists who enslaved themselves to the dark, malevolent will of Chaos. "We. Shall. Kill. Them. All!"
Gruff cheers erupted from a few of the Terminators, some of whom clenched the fingers of their power fists in anticipation. They were all that remained of initial force of Life Takers that had boarded the space hulk, the rest having lost their lives in the fight against the evil minions of the Warp that infested the accursed vessel, but in their deaths they delivered hundreds of sacrifices to the Emperor. That was what the Life Takers believed, that every death on the battlefield, whether theirs or their enemies', were sacrifices to the Master of Humanity.
"Our brothers may never find us, but by the Emperor, none shall soon forget us!" roared the Chaplain. "Our brothers will watch as this desecrated hulk falls from the void and dies upon the surface of the world beneath us! Our enemies will feel our bolters and blades searing at their flesh even when we cast them back into the Warp for centuries to come!"
His pace quickened, and the Terminators stood aside, letting the venerable warrior pass. As he walked by them, they fell into formation behind him, storm bolter held raised and ready. Even as he strode by, a hazy, incandescent aura flared to life around him, the energy shield of his rosarius coming to life, wreathing the Chaplain in divine protection. He stopped just short of the doors, where Kelrond could almost make out the guttural, slavering noises of their foe as they waited for the Life Takers to burst through. Kelrond turned, and every Terminator saw the blazing fire in the old Space Marine's brilliant eyes, the fires of faith and courage that every Space Marine aspired to achieve.
"This is our day! Their doom has come! Let the Enemy hear our voices and let them tremble in terror!" he raised his crozius high, gripping it as tightly as he could.
"By our blood and our honour, we kill for the Emperor!" shouted the Terminators, the ancient battle-cry of the Life Takers. Hearing those sacred words, Kelrond threw his head back and let loose a great roar that shook the room with his fury.
"Watch your flanks and make straight for the heart of this accursed place!" Augmented muscles bunching and his armour's servos gathering strength, Kelrond slammed his massive shoulder and threw the doors open wide to the sight of a horde of mutated cultists and plague daemons.
"For the glory of the Imperium! CHAAAAAARGE!"
Swinging his crozius in a sparking blaze of power, Chaplain Kelrond of the Life Takers lifted his heart to the Emperor, and charged.