Warriors of the Fists.
Captain Baldur, of the Imperial Fists Fourth Company was many things. He had been described as a hero of the Imperium. One of the best leaders of men the Chapter had ever seen. A brilliant fighter, a master tactician. But at this very moment, he was one thing and one thing only. Pinned.
"Request immediate fire support! Enemy forces massing to the north!" He slammed home another magazine into his bolt pistol, as the rune on his visor blinked twice in acknowledgement. Brother Astor would be moving into position with his Devastators, he estimated it would take four minutes for him to get him into position, and his cover was only going to last another three. That made the decision simple. He sprinted from cover, the servo muscles in his armour eating up the ground in front of him; his destination was about four hundred meters to the north-east, a small line of trenches, filled with the accursed enemy. He jumped into the trench, landing onto an enemy guardsman with a sickening crunch and drew his power sword, the sword humming with barely contained power. With one quick strike he had chopped the head off one of the traitors and lashed out with his fist, rewarded with a scream of pain. Wherever he struck, enemies of the Emperor died, bones cracking, limbs falling to the ground. Within thirty seconds Captain Baldur had cleared the trench. He looked around, and saw the enemy rallying towards a corrupted Leman Russ, adorned with the symbols of Chaos.
"Brother Astor, enemy tank spotted, destroy it!" Two krak missiles flew out from the Devastators firing position, the first one smashed into the front turret, knocking the demolisher cannon clean off, the second punched through the frontal armour and detonated inside, and the tank became engulfed in a massive fireball, burning shrapnel flying out in all directions and cutting down any enemy troops who were too close.
And that was it. As the tactical marines advance forward, laying down ferocious bolter fire, the enemy broke. Unable to stand before the might of the Angels of Death, of the Space Marines, of the Imperial Fists. Assault marines flew down from the skies on burning arks of fire, landing among the traitor guardsmen, and cutting them down, showing no quarter, for these people had given up any hope of mercy when they had spat on their oaths to the Emperor.
The crusade against the forces of Chaos had begun, and it would not find the Fourth Company wanting.
A/N: Sorry about the shortness, but consider this a 'teaser chapter'. I'll try and make each chapter a good solid length.
Anyway, all reviews are appreciated, and please do leave them signed, so I can reply to them. Thanks in advance.
Don't forget to review! And I'm also looking for a Beta Reader if anyone's interested, just send me a message.