Chapter 11: Battle Brothers Part II

Valten (I)

"How far now, Lord Alpers?" asked Valten.

One of the three leaders of the Sky-People stopped to look at that strange device he wore around his right wrist, before turning back to answer his question. "Not far, Herr Valten; the landing zone is just over this hill."

Valten would be lying if he didn't admit that these Sky-People and their strange words and ideas confused him, but right now was no time to question Sigmar's gifts in bringing these foreigners to their aid.

He looked back. Right behind them were some two thousand people; mainly the women, the children, and the elderly, whoever had been among Luthor's following who were otherwise unable to join the main battle line in staving off the forces of the Dark Gods. Valten knew that with Father Huss and most of the men there, they now were looking to him for guidance in this darkest hour.

He sighed. It just didn't feel right to be fleeing from the fight, leaving Father Huss and all the other brave defenders behind. But Luthor himself had ordered that he lead the women and children to safety whilst the men held the line, and he could understand his reasons: if, Sigmar forbid, Father Huss and the others were to fall that day, it would all fall upon Valten's shoulders to take up his hammer and lead his crusade. But that was a burden he did not know if he was ready to accept.

Suddenly, the Sky-People in front him stopped. One of them, the tall one who went by the name of "Viki", had apparently sensed something; he spoke to the other Sky-People leaders, including the ones named Lord Lombardi and Lady Saito, in a language that Valten could not understand. He then turned to face him and addressed him in Reikspiel: "Mister Valten, for your information, it would appear that a smaller group of these hostile indigenous lifeforms is scouting ahead of the main force; they have bypassed the main battlefield altogether, and are now located somewhere in this general area. Director Lombardi has instructed that I deal with this new matter personally."

"I will join you," spoke Valten, firmly, "these people are my followers; their protection is my burden to bear."

"You sure about this?" asked Lord Alpers, "Herr Huss requested that you be kept safe and..."

He was cut short by several screams and cries of terror from behind, followed by several bestial snarls and other animalistic sounds. Valten turned around and saw the source of the commotion: several hundred feet away, a group of about forty or so Gors had emerged from the foliage, and were rushing at the crowd of tightly packed civilians, their twisted horns and weapons glinting in the daylight.

In a split second, Lord Viki was already on the move, sprinting right past Valten. He blinked in both awe and disbelief for a split second as he watched the Skyman in action, barreling towards the marauding creatures of Chaos with inhuman speed, grace, and yet beneath it all, a raw power and ferocity, almost like a Demigryph. And then, almost instinctively, he too joined in the charge, clutching his hammer tightly, and ran forward, his legs carrying him as fast and furiously as they could manage. Up ahead, he could see that Lord Viki was already locked in combat, grabbing one of the attackers by the arm ... and tearing the hairy arm clean out of its owner's shoulder.

"FOR SIGMAR!" shouted Valten as he too threw himself into the melee...

Ulryk (I)

Brother Ulryk Of The Drakwald had once been a lowly knight of the Middenlands and a follower of the Wolf God Ulric. That was before he had converted to the Cult Of Sigmar, and renounced all of his lands and holdings to join Father Huss in his personal crusade against the Ruinous Powers. Over the years, he had fought all across the Empire, and against every form of foe, from the wretched Greenskins, to the depraved Dark Elves and nefarious Norscans who sometimes saw fit to raid and pillage the Empire's coasts.

But in all his years, he had never seen anything quite like the scene that unfolded before him. The remarkable horseless carriages and powerful weapons of the Sky-People were simply a wonder to behold, even from this distance, as he looked on in disbelief as a single volley of fire from one of these carriages. The closest contraption he could think of were the Steam Tanks of the provincial armies of some of the Empire's wealthier provinces, perhaps crossed with an Imperial Hellblaster volley gun, though even that comparison was a long shot at best. All he cared for at the moment was that hundreds and hundreds of Gors and Ungors seemed to melt before these lightning-fast vehicles and their rapid-firing guns.

But alas, even they were not enough; for every foul beast they killed, it seemed another five were ready to take its place. And Ulryk too realized that even the Sky-People and their wondrous devices were ultimately limited by the amount of shot they could carry. Sooner or later, they would run out. And it now looked to be sooner than later.

Sure enough, more and more Beastmen were emerging from the woods by the second, and were now rushing forward towards the line where Ulryk now stood. Just in front of the main infantry line, the archers and handgunners had taken their positions, and were already all firing away at the oncoming horde, releasing volley after volley of arrow and shot. The great cacophony in the air of bestial sounds and Sky-People weaponry (and also, so Ulryk noted, the recognizable shouting of Brother Indryk Of Boreale, who was some ways south of him, commanding the Sigmarines) was joined by the swishing of arrows flying through the air, and the discharge of hundreds of flintlocks, the clouds of smoke and the smell of black powder (which helped somewhat mask the putrid musk that arose from the filthy creatures, but not by much).

"READY MEN!" bellowed Ulryk as the orders were given and the ranks of archers and handgunners retreated through gaps in the main line. "PRESENT ARMS!" Sure enough, hundreds of pikes and halberds were lowered into place, presenting a nearly solid wall of steel points in the enemy's direction. "HOLD STEADY!" he shouted, and then quickly bowed his head and muttered a last minute prayer to Sigmar, and looked back up to see the horde now descending upon them.

He grimaced slightly. They were hideous, all of them. There were the Ungors, of course, the lowest castes of the Warherd, which seemed to look like men for the most part, but much hairier, with cloven feet and two small horns protruding from their scalps. There were the Gors, who made up the bulk of the herd; blasphemous couplings of man and goat and cow and Sigmar knows what other creatures as well. The Caprigors (the goat-like ones) and the Bovigors (the quite literally bullheaded ones) were by far the most common, but there were other types as well. Some of the Beastmen had the heads of dogs or cats; one he could see from here had the head of a snake. There were some who looked like they had some parts of insects as well, like mandibles and mantis-like arms and multiple eyes.

And there was one Beast(wo)man who seemed to have the body of an undraped woman, and the legs and head of a blue-skinned equine, with a horrible mane and tail of many different garishly bright colors. He shuddered at the sight of such a loathsome abomination walking upon the world of Men. And in the background, he could even see four or so towering figures, lumbering about amongst the rest of the herd - either giants or Ghorgons, though at this point, his attention was too fixated on the creatures just in front to take a closer look. Ah yes, and the smell ... THE SMELL! Like a putrid mix of animal musk, wet hair, and unwashed bodies mixed with rotting intestines and excrement and other things that he dare not imagine what they could possibly be.

And then the herd crashed into the first line, and all Hell broke loose.

Up and down the front, blades clinked and clashed against each other, and man and beast both growled in rage or screamed in pain as they were mauled or stabbed or ripped apart entirely. The Pikemen and Halberdiers held stubbornly, Sigmar bless them, and swordsmen, macemen, Flagellants, and Sigmarite priests alike hacked and smashed creatures apart in melee with their swords and maces and hammers. At several points in the line, the horrible hulking monstrosities had managed to puncture their way through the pikes though sheer weight of numbers; it was up to the swordsmen and other reserve forces to shore up these holes.

Just in front of him, Brother Ulryk saw a pikeman collapse to the ground as one Beastman managed to work its way past his pike and charge right up to him and rip his throat out with its jaws. He blinked in horror; it was the blue-skinned equine one with the garishly colored mane, its jaws foaming and dripping with the blood of the poor pikeman it had just taken a nibble out of.

Gripping his greatsword tightly in both hands, Ulryk dashed forwards as fast as his legs could carry him. The Beast(wo)man neighed the most hellish neigh imaginable, and ran forwards at him, ready to sink its twisted teeth into his face. But Brother Ulryk was not having it. Quickly and expertly, like the knight he had been trained to be, he had already raised his sword to high above his head, held it there for the blink of an eye, and brought it down with all his strength. "BE GONE, FOUL ABOMINATION!" he bellowed, as his greatsword struck the top of the creature's hell with enough force that it dug down deeply and made its way down to the neck, cleaving the entire head clean in half. The vile beast's foul rainbow-colored blood and brain matter sploshed everywhere. He then, in one motion, pulled his sword out and then thrust it forward again, this time downwards, right in the beast's black heart. When fighting the Children Of Chaos, one takes no chances.

As the beast's corpse collapsed upon the ground, he stood back and shouted: "BATTLE BROTHERS, FOR SIGMAR!" The men around him who heard him shouted back, rallying to the cause, their fighting spirit renewed. The front line had taken a beating, but it was holding, strong and firm. He grunted in satisfaction.

And then there was a great RRRRRAAAAAAWWWWWRRRRR! that echoed across the battlefield, and off in the distance, something huge came crashing through the trees and out onto the field.

"Hmm ... they have a Jabberslythe," muttered Ulryk, "oh ... crap."

42km SW of Colony Designated "Crimson EquinoX"
Northern Regions, Main Continent,
Northern Hemisphere, Planet EE-L0

"DUDE! WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT THING?!" shouted Pvt. Cale Sanders.

"I HAVE NO FUCKIN' IDEA, BUT IT NEEDS TO DIE NOW!" shouted Sgt. Tully Rashid back.

The satcom had warned them that something the size of a sauropod dinosaur was moving their way; what it hadn't warned them was just how ugly that piece of shit was. It looked like some bastard lovechild of a dragon, a toad, and a praying mantis, with sickeningly green skin that looked rotted enough that even moss and fungi were growing all over it, and a pair of two tiny membranous vestigial wings that it had evidently outgrown seeing as how it trudged across the ground on six ponderous clawed legs. The monster's horned and pudgy face, covered in multiple staring eyes and pustules, was enough to give even a trained UNCDF Marine nightmares.

The monster roared again, and was starting to charge its way across the field, barreling straight towards the battle lines of the native humans. Rashid hated to imagine what this giant green turd would do to the ordinary men holding the line with nothing other than spears and swords. Pvt. Sanders seemed to have the same idea, and immediately switched from the Avenger back to GAU, and once again, the three Gatling barrels began to spin.

BBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPP went the gun as it fired a burst, strafing the side of the creature; it seemed to pause to roar out in pain as bursts of florescent green blood erupted from up and down its flanks (and Rashid couldn't help but notice that the ordinary beasties standing right next to it seemed to melt upon contact with the creature's putrid blood). It turned to look away from the battle lines, and instead looked right at the crew of Wild Cat 05 with its horrible dozens of eyes. It roared, and began to stomp in their direction.

"I think we made it angry," said Pvt. Scott.

"SHIT, THE GAU'S DRY!" shouted Cale.

That tends to happen when you'e firing 2,000 rounds per minute... "LUCY! DRIVE! NOW!" hollered Tully. Pvt. Lucy Scott didn't need to be told a second time as she floored the gas pedal (though the Wild Cats actually ran on electricity) and gunned the engine, the Wild Cat immediately zipping off across the battlefield. But the giant turd was hot on their heels, charging with a speed that was incredible for such a large and ponderous creature.

FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK thought Tully as he looked forward to see where they were going. Lucy was an expert driver and the Wild Cat was capable of up to 230km/h on a proper road. But the path ahead was less a road and more an obstacle course and quagmire of mud, tree trunks, clumps of twisted vegetation growing everywhere, and hundreds of the smaller half-beast/half-man creatures slithering and crawling about; the Cat even ran over a few of them (though they probably would have been crushed by the ginormous turd chasing them, since it seemed to have little regard for distinguishing between friend and foe alike). He cast a quick glance at the rearview mirror and saw the monster gaining on them, its gaping maw dominating the view in the mirror and beneath it the words WARNING: OBJECTS IN MIRROR ARE CLOSER THAN THEY APPEAR.

Suddenly, something long and pink and slimy came shooting out of the monster's mouth; like some giant frog out of hell, it was trying to snatch them with its tongue. The foul appendage struck something in the back of the Wild Cat; the entire vehicle shook, and Pvt. Sanders stumbled backwards.

"CALE!" shouted Lucy and Tully together. The sarge immediately turned around and held out his left hand, grabbing hold of Pvt. Sanders, while with his right hand, he pointed his Stacker AR and fired a burst. It was impossible to aim the Stacker properly with only one hand, such was the recoil, but the creature's monstrous pink tongue was a sufficiently large and close enough target that he didn't need to. And unlike the rest of the beast's thick armored hide, the flesh of its tongue was soft and easily penetrated by the burst of 7.62mm munitions.

The monster howled a most ungodly sound in pain, and its tongue retreated, but not before snatching whatever it could in the rear of the Cat. It grabbed one large object, and retreated back to its owner's mouth.

"SHIT! HE ALMOST HAD ME!" shouted Cale, "And now we're low on grenades too, I ..." he paused, and glanced back at the creature, and at the large metal box it had snared with its tongue, the lettering DANGER: EXPLOSIVE clearly visible on the side...

Tully knew at once what he was thinking; he raised his Stacker and took careful aim, but this time, he fired the under-attached grenade launcher, sending a single 20mm grenade flying right into the creature's mouth just as its jaws were snapping shut, the grenade striking the side of the box it was chewing on.

There was a muffled boom, and then then, a split second later, the monster's head exploded in a shower of green bile and sludge and bits of sickly fetid flesh. The rest of the behemoth's now headless body seemed to take a second to realize it was dead before it finally came crashing down onto the ground, crushing several of the smaller beasts that were standing too close to it.

"YEAH! Eat that, motherfucker!" shouted Tully. And then there was another loud roar, and off in the distance, he saw another creature similar to the fallen one crashing through the trees and out onto the open field.

"Oh, for crying out loud!" shouted Cale.

The second monster began to lumber towards where Rashid could see that Katsaros' unit were driving Cat 07. Pvt. Anja Schenk, who was manning the Gau on that vehicle, opened fire, but they too were running low on the .50-cal, and just like the first creature, this beastie too had a body large enough to soak up quite a few shots before it would go down...

Just then, a solid glowing beam of light appeared out of the sky, and struck the abomination right in its head, melting a hole right through it. This was followed shortly thereafter by a series of smaller explosions that rocked the area around the monster, destroying both it, and hundreds of the regular beasties that were standing around it. Sgt. Tully heard a familiar sound droning over the din of the battle, and looked up to see a dark shadow swooping low above them.

The comlink in Tully's helmet crackled with the voice of Pvt. Katsaros over in Cat 07. "Sarge, is that what I think it is? Is that ... Sammy Hagar I hear?"

Approx. 100m Above Ground Level
42km SW of Colony designated "Crimson EquinoX"
Northern Regions, Main Continent
Northern Hemisphere, Planet EE-L0

"Head bangers in leather,
Sparks fly in the dead of night,
It all comes together,
When they turn off the lights,
50,000 Watts of power,
And it's pushin' overload,
The beast is ready to devour,
All the metal they can hold,
Reachin' overload, ready to EXPLODE!

"It's your one-way ticket to midnight,
Call it heavy metal!
Higher than high, feelin' just right,
Call it heavy metal!
Desperation on the red line,
Call it HEAVY METAL NOISE!"

The loudspeakers both within the cabin and outside on the fuselage were blaring guitar riffs and Sammy Hagar's voice as Lt. Margaret Wright of the UNSF sat at the controls of Falcon 06, flying low over the battlefield, strafing everything in sight with the shuttle's nose-mounted Markalite-12 Medium Pulse Laser. The choice of today's soundtrack had been that of her brother, Gunnery Sergeant Marcus Wright of the Colonial Marines, who coincidentally had also been assigned to this mission, and was sitting in the cargo area of Falcon 06 at that moment along with the rest of Lt. Archer's squad. He said listening to some classics always did wonders for the troops' morale.

"We're coming up on the target zone," called Lt. Margaret over the com.

"Acknowledged," replied Lt. Raymond Archer, "alright, you heard her! Eyes on the target! Wright! Put on psch-war operations, make it loud! This is Romeo Foxtrot; shall we dance?"

"Hell yeah!" spoke up Sgt. Marcus Wright, "it'll be just like old times, sis!"

"If only mom and dad could see us now," quipped Lt. Marge Wright.

Marcus smiled as he held up his MyPhone, which was jacked into the Falcon's sound system, and hit 'skip' to the next song on his playlist...

"I was caught, caught in the middle of a railroad track (Thunder!)
I looked 'round, and I knew there was no goin' back (Thunder!)
My mind raced, and I thought what could I do? (Thunder!)
And I knew there was no help, no help from you. (Thunder!)
Sound of the drums, beatin' in my heart,
The thunder of guns tore me apart!
You've been ... THUNDERSTRUCK!"

Meanwhile, a warning light began flashing as the sliding doors on both sides of the cabin were slid wide open ... and the two door guns popped out, a single M2134 Minigun on each side. Sgt. Wright was manning the Gat on the starboard side, while the Gat on the port side was being operated by Pvt. Paul Katanga, also of Lt. Archer's squad. At Lt. Archer's command, both door gunners opened fire, and sent glorious streams of glowing metallic death raining down upon the battlefield, whilst all the while, the loudspeakers continued to blair...

"I was shakin' at the knees,
Could I cum again please?
Yeah them ladies were too kind,
You've been ... THUNDERSTRUCK!
Yeah, yeah, yeah, THUNDERSTRUCK!
Ooooh ... THUNDERSTRUCK!"

Lt. Wright made the first pass over the battlefield, strafing and vaporizing everything ahead of her with the Pulse Laser, while the door guns were clattering away. Just behind her came Lt. Yoji Kuribayashi, piloting Falcon 07, who was doing the same. When she reached the edge of the combat zone, she pulled a quick Herbst maneuver, rapidly reversing direction, and then flew back and made another pass over the battlefield. This time, in addition to the Pulse Laser, she also fired one of the two missile pods mounted on one of the wing hard-points, releasing a swarm of a dozen Hydra missiles that shot ahead of the Falcon and landed somewhere in the forest, rocking the entire area with a series of explosions in rapid succession.

"Outstanding, Lt. Wright, outstanding. Get you a case of beer for that," spoke up Lt. Archer.

Suddenly, the radar HUD in front of her flashed a warning, indicating new contacts in the area. She checked to see what was going on. Sure enough, the satellites were now tracking some 20 or so unidentified flying objects in their vicinity; they were moving nowhere near as fast as the Falcon, but they were moving as fast as any terrestrial bird-of-prey could fly, and the men on the ground could be exposed ...

"Sir, we've got bogeys inbound," spoke Marge, "they don't look very large or fast, but there's a few of them. Permission to pursue and engage?"

"Shit, the beastie boys have air support too?" scowled Lt. Yoji over the comlink, over on Falcon 07.

"Can we get a visual?" replied Lt. Archer's voice.

"Yes sir," said Marge as she pulled up the real time satellite video on her HUD, "yeah, it's another beastie alright; like some fusion of an eagle and a giant tiger or something ... hang on, it looks like there's a normal man riding on it."

"Negative, Lt. Wright, stand down," came the voice of Captain Müller over the radio, "our new friends down here have informed me that griffons at least seem to be good guys aligned with The Empire, so they may be here to help. Stay focused on the ground targets, just in case the natives bring any more giants or those ... Herr Huss, what are they called? Jabberwockies? Point is, don't open fire on those griffons unless they attack us first. Over and out."

The Emperor (III)

Riding high above the battlefield on the great back of Deathclaw, Emperor Karl Franz couldn't help but feel confused and amazed both at the sight that was unfolding below him. Thousands and thousands of the Children Of Chaos continued to throw themselves at the brave defenders holding the line in the name of the realms of Men and of Sigmar. This was a sight he had unfortunately seen far too often throughout the course of his reign. What amazed him now, however, was the sight of those strange metallic beasts, the horseless carriages that sped back and forth along the ground faster than any horse, or the boxy bird-shaped objects that were circling the field, raining bolts of bright light and spitting rockets down upon the fell creatures below them whilst one of them seemed to be emitting ... music? It was a music unlike any he had ever heard before; for starters, most of the lyrics seemed to consist of some word "Thunderstruck"...

The Emperor was no stranger to the idea of scientific innovation, familiar as he was with the Steam Tanks and the Hellblaster volley guns and other wonders of technology that he had seen coming out of the great industrial forges of Nuln, or the even more advanced gyrocopters and steam dreadnought warships of the Dwarves, or the ever diabolical creations of the Skaven. But these devices were another thing entirely. It was apparent that they were metal constructs crafted by the hands of man, and not simply some living beast or, worse, something conjured up by dark magic out of the energies of the Warp. That much was clear. What was not as clear, however, was what exactly were the character of the people who had built these machines and had magically appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

But those questions, he decided, could wait for now. All that mattered was that these strangers were willing, at least for now, to align themselves with the Realms of Man against the foul tide of the Children Of Chaos...

"Orders, Your Majesty?" shouted one of the griffon riders soaring right alongside Deathclaw.

Karl Franz surveyed the battle from his vantage point. The foreigners and their strange machines were killing hundreds and hundreds of the beasts every minute, but there were still more and more emerging from the woods to throw themselves blindly against the ever dwindling lines and reserves of Luthor's forces. At the southern flank, he noticed that a small band of cavalry was making a desperate push into the warherd's own flank, and that something else was rushing at them to respond to their challenge.

At last, he shouted back: "follow me, noble brethren! Let us show those vile creatures of Chaos the wrath of Sigmar! And let us show these strangers who fight on our side just what The Empire is capable of! ONWARDS, FOR SIGMAR!" And Deathclaw gave a shrill hawk-like cry, tucked in his wings, and dove down towards the growing chaotic melee down below...