Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or Warhammer 40,000 so please don't sue me people…

Chapter 11: Chaos Assault

Engines belched to life, and the wailing moans of slaves fought desperately to be heard over the growing mechanical roar. Men, women and children, old enough to work, were chained and shackled together. The cracking of whips sounded and they sledged forward, their tattered cloths the remnants of old Imperial Guard uniforms and other rags not even able to keep them warm in the chill of winter. Their skin was tight to their bones and their muscles were almost unable to be called even that. The human soldiers under the Iron Warriors stood atop the dark silvered hulls of armored vehicles and whipped the slaves forward.

The unwilling, were simply shot or beaten to death, and their bodies removed from the chain gang and either fed to the war hounds, or the more bloodthirsty berserkers of the Blood God. Several large Traitor Marines stood at various points atop transport trucks; they supervised as the grunt soldiers under their command handed out modified las rifles. The igniting mechanisms had been removed, so the slaves were being handed disarmed weapons that were little good for anything but a club.

Dario Sandi kept his head low made sure not to look any of them in the eye. He learned early on if you looked any of the soldier's in the eye, you just got whipped harder. If you looked at any of the ancient traitors then they didn't whip you, they drug you anyway and no one ever saw you again. But, he knew what happened; he had a friend when the Iron Warriors first came to the planet. In the first wave he and his friend were taken prisoner. That was almost two years ago, it felt like decades, but even now he was having a hard time remembering the person's name.

His friend had looked one of the Chaos Marines in the eyes one day. They unshackled him and drug him kicking and screaming into the dark recesses of the military barracks in the city proper. He never knew what happened to his friend, and for almost a year he had simply thought he was imprisoned in the torture chambers. But, then one day he had risked a glance up and he saw the shoulder guards of one of the marines. Stretched across the large metal guard, was the flesh of a human face. Even after all the horrors he had witnesses during the first weeks of the rebel takeover with the aid of Chaos, nothing compared to seeing the horrified expression on the skinned flesh of his friends face.

Dario just kept his eyes on the ground and didn't look around at all. He didn't want to see anything horrible like that again. The chains around his neck jingled and the weight of them was something he had gotten used to over time. The woman in front of him had been crying ever since they had put her in the shackles about her son. There was part of Dario's mind that felt for her, but the majority of his feelings had died a long time ago. Now he just wanted her to shut up and just keep moving. She was going to get the attention of the whip masters and if she got him beat, then he was going to kill her while they slept.

The woman approached the truck that their chain gang had been directed to and was handed a rifle. Dario stepped forward and the soldier thrust a rifle into his hands and back handed him on the cheek and sent him on his way. The whip masters directed the slaves into the backs of other waiting truck, and Dario took a seat toward the back and of course, he was still sitting next to the weeping woman. What were they doing with them, he wondered, and why would they give them weapons, even if they didn't work, why would they be given such a thing to give them hope, even if it was just a candle flickering in a strong wind.

******

The clouds had broken by early afternoon, and the sun was beginning to shine down upon the Imperial troopers. After a horrifying night and tense patrols the Fifth Company was relieved to be back at the temporary forward command post set up by Colonel Kyoraku. The sounds of gunfire were so distant now that they may as well be non-existent to the tired troopers. Lieutenant Hinamori sat on a stool that had been taken from one of the buildings in the area and set inside a makeshift hut. It was simply an awning with a table and some chairs, but it was in the spot that a building used to be.

From the looks of it, one of the tanks had decided that it no longer needed to use the streets, and decided to take a detour right through this spot. It was a corner piece of a building and the stool she sat in was against one of the still standing walls. In the cool air she found her eyes slowly growing heavy, and she figured it wouldn't be too bad to catch a quick nap. She let her eyes close and she became distinctly aware of all the noises around her. The talking of troopers as they relaxed just enough to keep themselves from breaking. The barking of a platoon sergeant as he directed the placement of sandbags, and barricades. Then there was the sound of transport truck coming to a loud grinding halt off in the distance.

The wind blew and even through her winter clothes she felt a chill and absently adjusted her position in the chair. Her breathing relaxed without her even being aware of it and became slow, steady and deep. It was the state between sleep and awake, where the two worlds met as one and blinded together for just a moment before the other was allowed to take her mind away. Just before she drifted into the realm of deep sleep, she was awakened by shouting and it wasn't the normal discipline drills that she was used to hearing from her time in the military. It was alarm, her mind tired to force her body awake, but for some reason it was lagging behind. Wake up, she screamed in her mind and almost as if her body decided to react to the unspoken order, her eyes snapped open.

Taking a deep breath she sucked down the oxygen as if she had been holding her breath for sometime. Her eyes were blurry and she felt stiff, not to mention dirty. She rubbed her eyes and glanced over to the street. Guardsmen ran by putting flak jackets on and placing helmets upon their heads. She saw one of the junior lieutenants waving several squads forward and she quickly stood and tried to work the stiffness out by force. Stepping across the debris strewn ground and making her way out into the street. As the troopers ran by they didn't salute, they simply ran toward the front.

Momo returned to the CP and picked up her rifle and helmet and began running toward the barricades and defenses. As she approached she saw her entire company was manning the line. They crouched behind the sandbag walls and aimed their rifles down range. She quickly took a position next to her platoon's sergeant and quickly began surveying the area. It was just an empty wide suburban street, houses lined the road and her company was spread over four roads to her left and right. They were probably all seeing the same they she was seeing, nothing.

"What's going on," she asked risking a glance over at the sergeant. The man shook his head and replied.

"Don't know, ma'am, someone reported movement on the perimeter."

"What movement," one trooper said, "it's just Tetsuo, he needs to get some rest. He's seeing things serge."

Momo just blocked out what they were saying and looked back down the street. There was nothing, it looked the same as it had before she returned to the CP earlier, just now there was direct sunlight, not that big of a change. Her eyes scanned and just as she was about to order a sitrep, she caught something peeking out behind one of the houses. She set her rifle down and fumbled for her magnoculars and quickly raised them to her eyes. Removing the lens covers she zeroed in on the house and found the corner.

At first there was nothing but after another second she saw a helmeted head poke out from behind it. She recognized the colors of the rebels on the helmet and quickly dropped her looking device and picked up her rifle again.

"There's one over there," she said to the sergeant, "Get ready, they may be planning something," she was interrupted. Before she could finish her sentence, there was a loud whistle blew and the sounds of heavy gunfire. She snapped her head forward and saw a sudden horde of people come rounding corners and barreling down the streets. Some came running from out between the gaps in the houses.

"Light'em up," she heard someone shout and the line broke out into a mass firing squad. Las rounds bolted out and became an almost impenetrable wall of light. Heavy bolters opened up and began spew death like a hail storm. The people were dressed in rags mostly from what Momo could tell. Others had tattered rebel uniforms, they must have been beaten pretty bad the other night, was all she said to herself. But, there was something inside of her burning. She didn't see fellow human beings; she saw monsters who had committed atrocities against their own kind. The images of the discovery of the homes turned into slaughter and rape dens filled her vision and she gritted her teeth as she held her finger on the trigger. Torrents of las bolts lanced out of her rifle and scorched the air as they hissed toward their targets.

After only a half minute it seemed as though the body count was well into the hundreds. Several of the troopers were standing up and shooting from the hip, laughing as they slaughtered the enemies before them. Normally, Momo might think to reprimand these men and women. But not today, she thought, today its pay back.

******

Tarkus observed the killing from a position hidden from the sights of the Imperial Guard, but well within eyesight of them. He was emotionless as the slaves were slaughtered, right now across the entire Imperial line the masses of slaves he had taken when this world fell were now being slaughtered and used to distract the false emperor's rats. All the while, his Iron Warriors moved into position and prepared for their main assault.

He could feel the building anger growing inside Argus, and he knew that it would not be wise to allow him to dally here too long without killing. Luka and a squad of Iron Warriors chosen by him personally, all for time of service and hatred of the Imperium, prepared themselves for battle. Luka was a diehard Iron Warrior, and he only allowed those in his Chosen Squad, to be men who served during the Horus Heresy. Those of the legion, who were, half-breeds, or Astartes that turned traitor from the remaining loyalist legions, were not welcome in his presence.

Tarkus cared not for the half-breeds, but he didn't scorn them either. They were an asset to be used, nothing more to him than that.

"Lord Captain," his vox link hissed to life.

"Go ahead, Baldwin," he said with a flat tone.

"All fronts are reporting ready, my lord. The slaves are down to under twenty percent in most places, should we launch the attack?"

"Negative," he said turning his head to look upon Argus. The man's twin chain axes were drawn and shaking in his hands. Even though his body was completely sealed inside the suit Tarkus could see the tense muscles and heard his heavy shaking breath as the man suppressed the urge to simply run out the door and slaughter everything he saw. "We will wait, just a bit longer."

His voice showed emotion and it was obvious to anyone paying attention that he was enjoying this. The torture he was putting Argus through was sensational, but it was for a purpose. Tarkus always wanted to see, just how long it would take before Argus snapped and refused to listen to orders. But, Tarkus was no fool, he waited long enough to get the man ready to kill even him, and then he unleashed him upon the Imperials.

Luka approached from the other side and placed his helmet upon his head. There was a quiet hissing sound as it sealed itself and then Tarkus heard his vox link hiss again.

"We're all ready here, Lord Captain."

"Good," he said raising his hand and holding it there for a moment. He watched as Argus' eyes tracked his hand, it was like dog racing. Just like a good puppy Argus fought his desires and listened to his master. His boots slide across the tiled floor of the building as he fought to keep his place until ordered to attack. Finally, Tarkus motioned his hand forward and the giant brute of a man launched forward. Rather than use a door or anything that resembled an exit. Argus made one of his own; he barreled through the crumbling plaster wall and roared in triumph as he entered the killing fields.

During battle was the only time the man spoke, and it was better that he never spoke any time but then. Tarkus notified the other squads to launch the attack and received verifications from all. Luka and his squad filed out and began working their way toward the front using the homes for cover. Tarkus smiled at the precision and was happy that he finally had a chance to fight a war the way it was meant to be fought. With him, winning.

******

Argus barreled down the street, a complete disregard for anything in his path. His heavy boots crushed bones of the dead as he raced forward as if he was afraid the fighting would be over by the time he got there. He adjusted the two chain axes in his hands and squeezed the accelerators with demonic force. The jagged chains began to whirl and those at the back of the mass of slaves turned and looked upon him in horror.

"Get out of my way," he bellowed and raised the right axe above his head and brought it down upon the first person he met. Blood sprayed up and covered his breast plate; he roared again and never let off the momentum of his charge. His giant powerful frame plowed through the weak, poor excuses of adults and threw them to either side, crushed them beneath his boot, or cut them to blood mangled bits with his axes.

He could see the Imperials now, and his blood boiled and he could hear the screams of the Blood God in his mind pushing him forward. He broke from the cover of the mass of slaves and pushed closer to the Imperials. The las weapons bounced harmlessly off his armor and he roared in hate as the ground behind him erupted from heavy bolter fire. But, his speed was too fast, and the Imperial gunners were unable to catch him with the weapon that would surely end his existence one day.

Argus let out a mighty laugh and stepped up on a piece of fallen rubble just before the barricades of the guardsmen. He vaulted off the large chuck of rock and raised both axes high above his head.

"BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD," he roared as he sailed over the short barricade and into the mists of the distort guardsmen. He was now bringing his hell, to them.

******

"What the fuck, is that," a trooper yelled over the gunfire. Momo directed her attention to were the young woman was pointing and she noticed that it was as if something large like a vehicle was coming through the crowd. She cursed as she saw bodies thrown like rag dolls and she began barking orders over the microbead to the heavy weapons teams.

"Heavy weapons teams, Alpha and Charlie, redirect fire on incoming enemy vehicle," Momo stopped as she heard the same girl begin cursing and shouting prayers of protection aloud. Momo glanced over and saw that it was no vehicle coming through the crowd. It was a man, a very big man. His armor was silver and gold and covered in crimson red blood. The sight of him filled her with horror and she was at a loss for words. Her body began telling her to run, and her mind was starting to agree with that thought.

"Holy Emperor," the sergeant shouted beside her, "It's Chaos."

Momo raised her rifle and began unloading more las bolts at the charging figure. The weapons ammunition simply bounced off or was deflected out to the side. The heavy bolters opened up but the beast moved so quickly they were unable to track properly and their attacks were behind the target. Momo saw the group of troopers directly in the path of the Chaos Marine were starting to fallback, they stepped backward still firing their weapons. She went to shout for them to get out of his way, but by the time the words started to leave her lips the Marine had vaulted up over the barricades and landed in the mists of the troopers. To say he came out swinging, was an understatement, it seemed that from the moment his feet touched the ground on the Imperial side of the line, he never stopped attacking.

The large group of people that were charging were being cut down and now were hiding or bleeding to death in the streets. Men and women screamed as the Marine tore into them. One of his chainaxes became stuck in one of his victims and rather than easily pull it free, he simply disemboweled the person with his hand. Momo raised her rifle and replaced the charge pack and then opened fire on the marine. Setting the rifle to maximum setting she fired it with the unusually hard recoil. One round hit the marine in the shoulder pad. It left only a slightly melted scorched mark but, at least it showed that she could damage it anyway.

The marine dropped one of his victims and turned his attention elsewhere. He grabbed a wounded man crawling away from him on the ground and picked him up by his head. He took out a long serrated knife and quickly cut the man's head off and roared in triumph. Momo steadied her aim again and fired the rifle once more. The shot hit one of the horns protruding out of his helmet. The horn broke off and it caused the marine's head to jerk. He quickly turned around and eyed Momo.

Momo felt a cold chill run down her spine and she took aim again. The man still held one of his chainaxes in his hand and at first it was a slow trot, which grew into a hard sprint. Momo fired the rifle again this time hitting the man in the right thigh. He faltered in his step, and almost went to the ground. But, he quickly regained himself and Momo could almost hear his hissing breathing as he narrowed the gap between them. She took aim again, but before she could fire a shot he was upon her.

His axe raised above his head the beast roared as it began falling down upon her. Momo closed her eyes; she remembered her mother telling her once that if something like this ever happened, she should just close her eyes and not watch her end. She felt something crash into her side and she flew to her right and fell hard to the street. Her eyes opened quickly and she saw her platoon's sergeant get hit by the falling chainaxe. He screamed in pain and she saw in his hand he had two hand grenades the pins already removed. Momo quickly crawled away and took what little she could behind a fallen comrade. The grenades detonated and her hearing went out for a moment.

She shook her head and then looked up over the body of the trooper that had provided cover and saw nothing but dust and smoke. Gunfire still echoed and slowly her hearing returned to normal, with a slight ringing. She looked and saw that the front was engaged again this time with other Chaos Marines using assault tactics more akin to a military force than a barbaric bloodlust charge. She stood up and picked up a rifle from the ground, she ejected the charge pack and was about to slap in a new one when she heard the barbaric roar again. Out from the still settling dust came the Chaos beast again, and he came with more fury than he had before.

His helmet seemed to have been blown off and she looked upon a face that was twisted in horrific expressions. The eyes were almost crimson red and the man's teeth were filed to sharp fangs. His bald head was scared and covered with an eight pointed star. He swung the shaft of his now broken chainaxe at Momo. She raised the rifle and the two connected, the force from the blow however was so much that it knocked the weapon from her hand and sent her to the ground. Before she could react the Chaos Marine lifted her up by her shirt and brought the short woman up to his eye level.

"I walk the eight-fold path, bitch," he screamed, "there is no defeating me." As he spoke he took his long knife from his waist and placed it at her neck. Momo tried to fight back, but his hard armor was impenetrable to her fists and kicks. She felt the blade press against her neck and the first drops of warm blood began to trail down her soft pale skin. Tears formed in her eyes and she tried to think of a way to survive, but all her options were out. The knife started to move deeper, and she had quickly resigned herself to the end when she feel to the street with a hard thud and she quickly grabbed at her neck and turned to look back at the Chaos Marine.

She saw the glimmering blue energies of a power sword, it was in the design of the ancient weapons of her homeworld and it was draw. The Chaos Marine roared in pain and grabbed at the nub of an arm he now possessed. He shouted curses and quickly returned to the offensive. He rushed toward the person wielding the weapon and went to grab him to beat him to death with his one good hand, but there was a quick slash of the blue glowing blade and then it was sheathed again. The Marine continued forward for several steps then fell hard to the ground and twitched slightly. Momo turned and looked over to see her Captain. Aizen sheathed the sword and turned to Momo; he ran over to her and knelt down.

"Are you alright, Momo," he asked looking at the wound on her neck.

"I'm fine sir," she said quickly awed by his quick dispatch of the Chaos Marine.

Aizen grimaced at the wound on her neck and quickly ripped off the sleeve of his uniform shirt and began wrapping it around her neck.

"This is Captain Aizen," he said into the microbead, "Fifth Company, fallback, take up secondary defensive positions."

The order was not ignored, as the line collapsed the heavy weapons teams barely had enough time to breakdown their weapons, so they simply left them there. Valuing their lives more than the equipment that they had been given, some even dropped rifles and pistols in an attempt to lighten the load.

"Momo, can you move," Aizen asked helping the girl up. She nodded and the pair of them dashed back toward the secondary positions just fifty yards back.

******

Renji stirred to life. He felt the broken forearm on his left side and the wound the bullet wound on the same shoulder and tried like hell not to scream out in pain. His head was pounding and he rolled onto his back and tried to clear his vision. He looked up to a ceiling scarred by neglect and warfare. Everything was a blur, vision and memory. He couldn't remember why he was feeling so banged up; he tried to raise himself up, but forgot for a moment about the broken forearm and almost screamed in pain as he applied too much pressure to the wound.

He fell back down to the floor and covered his mouth and tried to make the pain go away, but the broken limb throbbed and burned hot. After several moments he steadied his breathing and decided to try again, this time using his good arm. He stood up and began looking around. As he looked over and saw the two dead bodies of Kamiyama and Tomiki, the events began coming back to him. They were attacked, he remembered, and when there was an explosion, maybe grenades, or something, but the blast knocked him cold. He looked around and began trying to find anyone else.

There was no sign of Ikkaku, but he was actually more concerned about Rukia. He began looking around the room. He saw nothing so he thought back. He tried to think of the last place he saw her at, the last image he had of her was diving for cover. He tried to piece it all back together in his head; he even absently walked to where she had been sitting before the attack happened. He looked over to a doorway that led into a hallway, now it was starting to make sense. He had seen her duck into the hallway just before he went out. He quickly stepped into the hallway and found nothing but fallen plaster and broken timbers from the houses framework. But, from underneath he saw a uniform pant leg and a black combat boot. Then he saw a small trail of blood coming from the leg. Forgetting his own pain he began pulling away the debris and trying to dig the woman out of the pile.

He grabbed onto large chunks of drywall with both hands and fought through the pain he dug and dug until he reached the woman hidden beneath the rubble. He called her name and was pleased when she began shaking her head as if she was trying to sleep and didn't want to wake up just yet.

"Rukia," he called. The woman opened squint her eyes at the man and struggled to wake up. Renji finished clearing off all the rubble and lifted the woman up. He moved her out into the main room and began searching for his first aid kit. He was glad she was alive, now he wasn't going to be alone in this.

End Chapter 11

Author's Note: Okay, there is another chapter, and I hope you enjoyed it. Some pointed out to me a slight flaw in one of the earlier chapters, and it wasn't grammatical. But, I hope that this may do something to assuage that mistake. It has been a while since I last played a game of 40k, and a couple of months since I read a 40k novel, so I admit, there are going to mistakes here and there. But, please R&R, no flames, you know the usual bit, have fun and a Merry Christmas, or Hanukah, or whatever you celebrate…or don't its whatever.

Thanks,

Big Mack