Purge the Heretic

by flugel meister

Short story: this is my entry for the recent Black Library opening. It centres on the Blood Angels' 3rd Company and their deployment to a planet near Cadia during the 13th Black Crusade. As the forces of Chaos surge forth, it becomes clear that their violent attacks are far from random and that they have an objective in sight, which if captured could spell the end for humanity.

Ahead, a defensive line filled with cultists blocked their path. Heavy weapons with good arcs of fire were set up on both flanks of the crumbling Administratum. Razor wire and sand bags provided a meagre defence to the heretics, while in the haze of the early morning sun a priest, adorned with the mark of Chaos, bellowed incantations at a pile of rotting corpses nearby.

Time is short.

'They're attempting a summoning,' he sounded over the VOX system to the other squads. 'Prepare to move.'

'I look forward to arranging their meeting,' Brother Marvus scoffed. 'Prematurely, of course.'

The other marines in the squad nodded in approval. It was a good sign. They were always eager, but when it came to the dark forces that fouled everything the Blood Angels fought for, their impressive feats became greater still.

'Advance!'

All four Razorbacks thundered into life and immediately sped towards the enemy line, their heavy weapons firing a fusillade of heavy bolter shells into the heretics. Argosa looked on through the optics, ensuring all was going to plan. Behind, two ten-man assault squads maintained the pace of the advance, staying only yards behind as the Blood Angels surged forward. A staccato of enemy fire peppered the vehicles, but none penetrated.

'Target their heavy weapons,' Argosa uttered.

Squads Mepharus and Claven turned their attention to the cultist heavy weapons teams. Argosa observed as the ill-prepared defenders, who were both still readying their weapons, were cut to shreds in a hail of explosive shells. To the front, most of the heretics had taken cover in the trenches. A few dared to shoot in response, quickly becoming the focus of each Razorback in turn.

'Prepare to dismount!' Argosa roared. 'Cleanse and advance. Support the assault.'

Each squad pinged in acknowledgment as they prepared to meet the foe face-to-face. Even through the hull of the Razorback, Argosa could hear the jump packs of the assault squads behind spooling up additional power for their charge.

Fifty metres. Close enough.

'Halt, and dismount!' The vehicles stopped in unison, their heavy weapons firing shell after shell as the hatches swung open and the tactical marines poured out. A second later and four heavy flamers spewed out jets of ignited promethium that filled the trenches in front. The cultists screamed as they burned. Others attempted to run, only to be cut down by bolter fire.

Argosa gave the order. 'Advance and assault!'

Even before the fires had settled and the burning cultists had died, the assault marines swept overhead and thundered into the remainder of the enemy force, cleaving limb from limb in mists of blood and gore. As one, the tactical squads advanced, firing in support of the assault troops as they cut through the shattered defences towards the priest and his retinue of sympathisers.

'The priest,' Argosa bellowed, 'leave him for me.'