"VICTORY!"
The words were still ringing in his ears as he pushed his bike to the limit of its speed, rocketing towards the front lines like a bat out of hell. He could see now, the hastily erected fortifications, the earthworks and razor wire that the Chaos cultists cowered behind, hope it would them some small protection. Let them hope all they desire, Rexus thought, for when the day is done your corpses will rot in those trenches. Agmar could feel the bloodlust filling him, his righteous anger burning to be released in battle. And he knew, though the cultist forces numbered over a thousand, that his fifty Space Marines would easily slay 20 cultists or more apiece. His were the finest warriors in the galaxy, and they would eradicate these pitiful heretics with impunity.
An assortment of figures dressed in black cloaks, wielding swords and autoguns scrambled out of the trenches and rushed to meet his troops, screaming litanies and chants of death. Let them come. He would slay them himself.
He activated his comlink. "Rhino's one and two, disembark fifty meters from fortifications and provide covering fire. Assault squads; attack the enemy in hand to hand on my mark. All attack bikes, form up on me and prepare to engage"
He heard the Rhino's screeching to a stop, the jump packs of the assault marines humming, ready to launch them into the fight. He looked to his rear, and saw that the other bikes were in position. Everything was ready. "Engage!"
He fired the twin-liked bolters of his bike into the mob of cultists, tearing three of them apart with its explosive shells. He took his right hand from the handlebar, reached for the power axe slung over his back. He flicked the activation switch to on with his thumb as he drove into the middle of the cultists, swinging the axe in a sweeping horizontal arc that bisected one man, the energy field exploding his torso in the process and splattering the area with his innards. Another cultist was crushed beneath the bike's large wheels, yelling his defiance to the last. He was clearing the crowd now, but he quickly jinked to the left in order to behead one last one, his screams of war cut short along with the stump of his neck. The survivors would have to be left to his comrades.
He pushed on towards the enemy trenches at full speed and spying a slight incline near the edge, headed for it. He pulled the bike into a wheelie as he hit the incline, launching it into the air and soaring over the trench and its fortifications to crunch into the ground on the other side. He pulled a 180-degree skid that brought the bike to halt facing the backs of the enemy troops. They turned, trying to bring their weapons to bear, but it was too late. He laid into them a sustained volley of fire from the bikes twin-linked bolters and his own plasma pistol that cut them down like chaff. The assault squads had slain the cultists to either side of him, and with the help of cover fire from the marines that had been in the Rhinos, the remaining bikers had dispatched the mob that had attacked them. Now, all were now crossing the trenches via plasteel boards that had been taken from the storage compartments on one of the Rhinos and laid across the gap.
Rexus Agmar dismounted his bike and surveyed the scene. They were through. After months of fighting a dirty little war of attrition against an enemy that knew how to use its greater numbers to its advantage, they were through. The enemy had made the mistake of spreading their lines too thin, and they had paid the price when Rexus and his marines punched through. This, the initial assault had succeeded, but it was only the initial assault. They had punched through, but only at the weakest point. The trench extended for half a kilometer in either direction, and he knew if the HQ were to be attacked now, the troops in still in the trench would return to the HQ behind his force and surround him.
No. The trenches would have to be cleared out completely. He activated his comlink.
"All marines equipped with flamers and hand flamers, form into two five-man fire teams and prepare to enter the trench"
The men immediately set about their orders, Rexus did not need to sort them into teams himself, he and his men performed endless drills to hone their organisational skills and each marine knew his place. Not having to concern himself with such things leaves a commander free to attend to other matters more worthy of his attention.
"Sergeants Wulf and Raan, each of you assume command of one fire team, and follow the trench in opposite directions to its ends, burning out the heretic scum. Update me every five minutes. Move out."
"Yes sir" Wulf and Raan replied simultaneously. They mustered them men assigned to them and carried out their orders.
To be continued.
The words were still ringing in his ears as he pushed his bike to the limit of its speed, rocketing towards the front lines like a bat out of hell. He could see now, the hastily erected fortifications, the earthworks and razor wire that the Chaos cultists cowered behind, hope it would them some small protection. Let them hope all they desire, Rexus thought, for when the day is done your corpses will rot in those trenches. Agmar could feel the bloodlust filling him, his righteous anger burning to be released in battle. And he knew, though the cultist forces numbered over a thousand, that his fifty Space Marines would easily slay 20 cultists or more apiece. His were the finest warriors in the galaxy, and they would eradicate these pitiful heretics with impunity.
An assortment of figures dressed in black cloaks, wielding swords and autoguns scrambled out of the trenches and rushed to meet his troops, screaming litanies and chants of death. Let them come. He would slay them himself.
He activated his comlink. "Rhino's one and two, disembark fifty meters from fortifications and provide covering fire. Assault squads; attack the enemy in hand to hand on my mark. All attack bikes, form up on me and prepare to engage"
He heard the Rhino's screeching to a stop, the jump packs of the assault marines humming, ready to launch them into the fight. He looked to his rear, and saw that the other bikes were in position. Everything was ready. "Engage!"
He fired the twin-liked bolters of his bike into the mob of cultists, tearing three of them apart with its explosive shells. He took his right hand from the handlebar, reached for the power axe slung over his back. He flicked the activation switch to on with his thumb as he drove into the middle of the cultists, swinging the axe in a sweeping horizontal arc that bisected one man, the energy field exploding his torso in the process and splattering the area with his innards. Another cultist was crushed beneath the bike's large wheels, yelling his defiance to the last. He was clearing the crowd now, but he quickly jinked to the left in order to behead one last one, his screams of war cut short along with the stump of his neck. The survivors would have to be left to his comrades.
He pushed on towards the enemy trenches at full speed and spying a slight incline near the edge, headed for it. He pulled the bike into a wheelie as he hit the incline, launching it into the air and soaring over the trench and its fortifications to crunch into the ground on the other side. He pulled a 180-degree skid that brought the bike to halt facing the backs of the enemy troops. They turned, trying to bring their weapons to bear, but it was too late. He laid into them a sustained volley of fire from the bikes twin-linked bolters and his own plasma pistol that cut them down like chaff. The assault squads had slain the cultists to either side of him, and with the help of cover fire from the marines that had been in the Rhinos, the remaining bikers had dispatched the mob that had attacked them. Now, all were now crossing the trenches via plasteel boards that had been taken from the storage compartments on one of the Rhinos and laid across the gap.
Rexus Agmar dismounted his bike and surveyed the scene. They were through. After months of fighting a dirty little war of attrition against an enemy that knew how to use its greater numbers to its advantage, they were through. The enemy had made the mistake of spreading their lines too thin, and they had paid the price when Rexus and his marines punched through. This, the initial assault had succeeded, but it was only the initial assault. They had punched through, but only at the weakest point. The trench extended for half a kilometer in either direction, and he knew if the HQ were to be attacked now, the troops in still in the trench would return to the HQ behind his force and surround him.
No. The trenches would have to be cleared out completely. He activated his comlink.
"All marines equipped with flamers and hand flamers, form into two five-man fire teams and prepare to enter the trench"
The men immediately set about their orders, Rexus did not need to sort them into teams himself, he and his men performed endless drills to hone their organisational skills and each marine knew his place. Not having to concern himself with such things leaves a commander free to attend to other matters more worthy of his attention.
"Sergeants Wulf and Raan, each of you assume command of one fire team, and follow the trench in opposite directions to its ends, burning out the heretic scum. Update me every five minutes. Move out."
"Yes sir" Wulf and Raan replied simultaneously. They mustered them men assigned to them and carried out their orders.
To be continued.