Hey, then, this is more stuff about the Warhawks, this time the First Company. It helps if you have read the background info. I claim no ownership to any 40k or Games-Workshop stuff mentioned here. It'll eventually be several chapters, so just wait.

"When will my soul be like thrice-forged steel?" shouted Chaplain Kylan to the survivors of the first company of the Warhawks Chapter as the orks charged again.

"In the heat of battle!" came the reply over the crash of seventy-five bolters firing. They had run out of flamer canisters and the like yesterday and were running out of bolter ammunition, but the orks kept coming. Captain Koresh had died two days ago killing a particularly huge ork, probably a so called 'war boss' and that had almost broken the Company, but their righteous fury drove them on. Kylan was in-charge now. The ork weapons were crude, but with so many firing, a dozen Marines fell, their armor breached in a half-dozen places by numerous impacts. Hundreds of orks had died now, and their charge was beginning to lose momentum.

"When does your duty to the Emperor end?" again yelled Kylan as the next ork wave came into sight. This one was slowed by the sheer number corpses and even more died from the massed volleys of Space Marines.

"In deaths cold embrace!" again came the shouted reply. Ammo was scarce now, the bodies of the dead Marines being carefully searched for any and all magazines. Since most of the Marines were firing single shots now, the charge slammed home. All along the line the Space Marines were fighting viscously against the orks. Chaplain Kylan was at the fore, his shining Crozius Arcanum sizzling as thick green ork blood boiled off the power field. A giant ork reared in front of Kylan, a massive cleaver raised above its head. Snarling, Kylan sliced his Crozius into the orks chest, but stuck fast in its rib-cage. Bellowing, the ork wrapped its arms around Kylan and squeezed him a giant bear-hug. Kylan could hear the power-generator on his back sputter as the ork crushed him, then he felt his ribs breaking. Kylan brought his helmeted forehead straight down into the orks nose. The ork released its bear-hug and Kylan shot it in the head three times with his bolt-pistol. Looking around, Kylan could see this wave had ended, but a low chanting from the ork lines signaled that another was about to begin.

"What will be your reward?" shouted Kylan. He had no doubts that they would all die today, but they would sit at the right hand of the Emperor in the next life.

"The knowledge I have done my duty!" was the reply from the fifty battered survivors of the 1st Company. Every Marine was bloody and battered, but the determination in voices was clear as day. This battle would be both a tragedy and a display of courage to future generations of Space Marines. The next wave was in sight now, this one comprised of thousands of orks, their battle-cries deafening. To the auto-senses of the Marines, their red-eyes stood out like burning coal. Kylan quickly checked the load on his pistol and found it empty. In disgust, Kylan dropped his pistol and held his Crozius in both hands.

"What will be your battle-cry?" shouted Kylan as the ork wave was almost upon them, their firearms forgotten in their blood-lust.

"Death comes for you!" came the reply as the Marines fought their last battle. Suddenly, the sky was lit up. From the clouds, came a dozen or more drop-pods. With a shriek, the drop-pods slowed and landed in the middle of the ork horde. Automated storm-bolters on the drop-pods opened fire and chewed a circle around each drop-pod. Then, the pods split open like seed-pods and the men of the Second Company poured out, bolters blazing. The orks died in droves, such was the shock the assault.

The survivors of the 1st company cheered as the orks turned and fled, only to be cut down by the massed fire from the 2nd company. One Marine in particularly ornate power armor, with eagle heads decorating the exhaust vents on his power-pack strode up to Kylan.

"Are you Master-Chaplain Kylan?" spoke the Marine in a deep, commanding voice.

"Yes, I am." Kylan replied, picking up his bolt-pistol and holstering it.

"I am Captain Mepesto. The Council has heard of death of Captain Koresh and I have been sent to replace him."

"Well, sir, this is fairly irregular, usually the company promotes someone from within to be the Company Captain, I don't know why the Council would… force someone upon us."

"Chaplain, I was one of the survivors of the Hell Gate massacre, and the Council decided to give me the 1st Company."

"I'm sorry, Captain, I didn't realize…"

"It's alright, Kylan. Now, you can say you survived the Lange Fields massacre. Now, Thunderhawks are coming to gather up the men, we'll be going back to the Swooping Flame to get reinforcements from the Seventh Reserve Company. After we get those reinforcements, I'll address the company."

"Acknowledged, Captain." With that, Kylan walked back to where the 1st Company had arranged themselves in perfect parade formation, tattered banners flying.

"Attention men of the 1st Company,' began Kylan, 'I am immensely proud of you all. The dead shall be remembered as the Emperors Finest. Your bravery will be taught to the new initiates and the names of the dead will be recorded in the Hall of Heroes in the Chapter Monastery."

As one, the fifty survivors of the Lange Fields Massacre raised their voices in a cheer.

Back at the Swooping Flame

Cradling his helmet under his arm, Captain Mepesto strode up to the podium in front of the assembled 1st Company. Just days after the Lange Fields massacre, the Company was still at about seventy percent strength, even with reinforcements. Now, Mepesto was addressing the men.

"Praise the Emperor" began Mepesto.

"Praise the Emperor" boomed the men of the 1st Company.

"As you already know, I will be taking over command of this company after the death of the honored Captain Koresh. Since the company has lost much of its strength at Lange Fields, I will be limiting the Companies deployments to small-unit actions until such time that it is at full strength,' Mepesto paused, gathering his thoughts, 'For those of you who don't know, I fought at the Hell Gate and for my actions there, I was given the command of this Company. Let me tell you the tale from my view, even thought I know you probably have read the reports. The daemons had just attacked, and we were falling back in disarray. Dozens of good Marines had already died and the bearer of the Second Company's standard had just been slain, the sacred banner being propped up by his body. I rallied my squad around me and pushed forward through the daemons to recover the standard. By the time I reached the Banner, my entire squad was dead. I lifted the Banner above my head, and forged my way back to firing line. One hour later, the Thunderhawks; Eagle Flight and Salvation picked up the survivors.' Mepesto paused again, the weight of so many dead comrades heavy on his mind, 'After the Chaplain Kylans sermon, we shall resume training." With that, Mepesto saluted and strode away.

Kylan nodded to him and took his place at the podium. "KNEEL!" he commanded. With a deafening crash, one-hundred and sixty armored knees hit the adamantine floor.

"Where would we be without the Emperor?" asked Kylan

"Nowhere, for the Emperor is all." Responded the 1st Company as one, their deep voices echoing.

"What do we ask of Him?"

"Nothing, we owe Him for His sacrifice."

"What does He ask of us?"

"Our unquestioning obedience and undying loyalty."

"How will you be judged by the Emperor?"

"By the measure of my life's deeds."

"Praise the Emperor"

"Praise the Emperor."