Chapter 1
As I marched with the other members of my squad down to the assembly chamber for our briefing and benediction, I looked out from the observation windows of the Invincible Reason, the flagship of the Dark Angels chapter. We pulled from The Warp at a steady pace with six other ships from our fleet, four Battle-Barges, and two Strike Cruisers. Our destination: Ion, a hive-world besieged by Heretic Astartes and other foul creatures of the Ruinous Powers. The six other vessells fell behind us, forming a V with our ship.
I remembered how nervous I was during my first sortie, how fast my two hearts had raced. The anxiety died afterward, it never bothered me again for years. This war I was about to enter felt no different, but since it was my first war as a full Battle-Brother the anxiety threatened to rise in me again. I looked back to my brothers who marched with me down this corridor, and I quelled this wave of weakness immediately.
Next to me was Astaruth, he was a new Battle-Brother like me. We had graduated from the Scout Company together, but we spent very little time together in the past. He and I were assigned to this squad shortly after Azrael, the Supreme Grand Master of the chapter pledged support in this war. In front of us was Barbaton, with his Errant pattern Astartes armor, Sophius with his Iron pattern helmet, Israfen, wearing a hooded robe that signified his veteran status, Sabbathian, the apothecary, and at the front Ramian, the squad's leader, wearing a tabard. I did not know them very well, they were much older and had more battle experience than Astaruth and I, but I was determined not to hold them back.
High above our heads, the flesh and metal amalgamated forms of the Messenger Cherub flew. One paused and swooped down next to me, observing me with curiosity. I swatted my hand at this thing that bore the appearance of an infant and, after another minute of gazing, it left. "Uncomfortable to look at, aren't they?", Astaruth asked me with a tone of humor. "No, only a nuisance," I replied, "Nothing more." I heard him smirk softly under his helmet. "Whoever they shared a connection with must have found you interesting, Throne knows why", he joked, thinking it was funny. I would have too, but I could not feel any sort of humor about that possibility.
We finally came upon the doors to the chamber, and they slid open for us. We joined in with the crowd made up of other squads that came before us. Three more squads arrived before the briefing began.
Three Astartes walked onto the stage and stood in front of us all, one was a chaplain, his armor decorated with various trinkets, robes, a cape, and a skull helm covered by a white trimmed hood. The second was the Company Master Korahael, clad in an ornate set of power armor sported with a cape the color of bone. He carried a winged helmet under his arm, letting his aged features be exposed. "Brothers of the fifth company", Korahael began, the chamber echoing his old voice, "We are moments away from reaching our destination. This company will be deployed via gunship to the city of Obern, located behind the frontlines." He paused, scanning us all as we processed this information, then continued, "You will be merging with Astartes from the successor chapters the Persecutors of Darkness, and the Knights of the Crimson Order, for we three chapters will be the reinforcements for Obern's defense. Obern's forces consist of our cousin chapters the Salamanders, the Imperial Fists, and the Lamenters, and the Imperial Guard regiments, the Cadian Shock Troopers, and the Elysian Drop Troops, who have been fighting this enemy for the past 4 standard months."
His voice darkened now, "The enemy we are fighting reeks of heresy," he spat with utter disgust, "They continue to soil this world with every step they take, and their commander shows great skill with tactics and strategy, but they must be destroyed all the same. Does this intimidate any of you?" He asked, "No!" came our reply. "So what should the sons of the Lion give them as a response fit for these scum?!" he asked, his last words coming out loud and fierce. "Wrath for the heretic!" we all replied. "When they march through these cities, butchering loyal servants of the Emperor left and right, WHAT WILL YOU RETALIATE WITH?!", he shouted, "STEEL FOR THE IMPURE!", we screamed. "And what will you show them as they lie broken at your feet?!," he shouted, "NO MERCY, FOR THE DAMNED!". The walls of the chamber rumbled and shook as we pored our might into our words. "Kill them all, let none survive!" he said, "Send them back to their paltry gods weak, and without victory!". We fell silent, our spirits raised and energized, he gave the chaplain next to him the queue to begin his prayer.