Hello My name is Jarred Whitehorn, (aka Jarreditis, Zombie Lord, Rebound Man, and on one occasion, Cindy) I'm a little new to the writing scene so please be gentle when it comes to your ratings...please? I know there are a lot of die-hard fans of warhammer out there like myself and I hope I can truly pay proper homage to it. this will be a multi-part story so expect more soon, read and enjoy!
I do not own any warhammer industry or do I seek monetary gain, this is all for the fans and an homage to the industry, game, and lifestyle.
"It is said by some people of the universe, that a god is untouchable. A god is a being that transcends human understanding and is beyond our plane of existence, therefore, nothing below god could harm it. I believe this to be a lie. A god's one true weakness is what it creates, especially when pieces of that god are given to his select followers. The corpse-emperor gave pieces of his essence to the hallowed Primarchs, and they gave their essence, via the geneseed, to we Angels of Death, the Astartes. The pieces are small, but the False Emperor is within us all, as much as I hate to admit it. Though with this, I finally see the one way to defeat the hated False Emperor, one piece at a time."
"Seargent! Watch the rear!" Yelled Hakador as a flurry of las-rounds peppered the walls. Sergeant Wallis turned and returned fire with three hissing blasts of his plasma pistol, the screeches of pain told that all were dead on. Brother Ramusen lifted his bolter and sprayed rounds all down the east corridor, before quickly ducking behind the metal door frame as a collection of las and stubber rounds came back. "we can't keep this up forever," he growled, "by the Lion it's like they were expecting us!" Hakador nodded in agreement, the attacks by these cultists were far too set-in to be coincidence. The Archenemy were always found to be disorganized rabbles when confronted by his squad in his experience, it was then that he thought back to what started this.
The 17th company of the Golden Lions chapter had been fighting hard 2 days straight. It all began with a distress beacon from an outlying Mechanicus outpost, it was a looped message saying only that followers of the Archenemy were attacking and they required assistance. Being the closest ship, the crew of the "Lion's Heart" were sent to investigate the situation. The outpost was on a desert planet in the Hydra quadrant named Fen, it was a desert planet that was used to frequent warp storms, while being far enough to not be destroyed by the turbulent energies it was close enough to still be affected by them, making it an ideal site to study the mutating effects of the warp. Sergeant Wallis thought that this was just one step too close to heresy, was the Warp not the home of the Great Enemy? To study this phenomena may be for the Imperium, but one wrong step could lead to great danger, both physically and morally. Where their brother chapters under the great Primarch Lion El Jonson were secretive, The Golden Lions were very forthright in their endeavors, not a one of them thought tis could be a trap, for doubt in the Emperor or his servants was to doubt themselves.
As soon as they came within vox range of the planet there came a slience, which was strange, for it wasn' just that the messages stopped, but that there wasn't so much as a single hiss of static. After tests by the tech-marines on board, they found that they still worked of course (since anything else would insult their skills), but that simply things had gone quiet. After an hour of trying to hail the outpost, chapter Master William ordered the 17th, 18th, and 21st companies to take stormbirds to the surface and investigate. The 17th was lead by sergeant Wallis to lead as the tactical squad, the 18th was lead by captain Hakador, a stern assault marine leader, and the 21st, or better known as the "Holy Hammers" was lead by seargent Sven of the Golden Lion's terminators. William gave each of them their orders and sent them out to the outpost's location wih a fond farewell.
The moment the ramp went down and seargent Wallis feet touched the landing pad things went wrong. 2 krak missiles impacted with his stormbird and it exploded in a ball of flame, tossing he and his men in all directions, the same had happened to the other stormbirds. Hakadors ship was blasted from the landing pad taking his squad of 12 with it, Sven's squad's weight seemed to save them, the bird blew but he and his men just fell through the bottom to land on the ferrocrete pad, storm bolters at the ready and power fists crackling with energy, with Sven at the head with a thunder hammer and storm shield. Wallis looked at the broken wreckage of the stormbirds, their near-black green hulls edged in gold burning and twisted. The cause of this were the figures in purple rags perched on a comm-sat tower frantically reloading their weapons. Hakador was the first to see them and roared like a wounded animal and flew at them with his jump pack roaring with him, letting loose with his bolt pistol and holding his power axe high. The assailants were too slow with reloading and stood no chance against the angry fireball of death tearing into them. Hakador was like a frenzied lumberjack and his foes became naught but firewood before him, when only one was left, pleading and groveling in a guttural tongue, Hakador simply looked at him and for a brief moment, he thought of gifting the wretch with mercy, before seeing the foul eight pointed star of Chaos branded above his left eye, without hesitation he grabbed the cultist by the throat and impaled him on the head spike of his axe. The assault marine Sergeant turned to his fellows and yelled down,
"I believe we'll have our work cut out for us this day my brothers!"