A/N: Buckle up boys, we have xenos to kill!
Next chapter of RWBYhammer 40k, ALL RIGHT!
Book One: Baptism by Fire
-Chapter 5: Baptism by Fire-
"Rejoice, my brothers! For it is only awash in the blood of xenos that we may truly live!" – Deathwatch Keeper Phaedron
After six months away, it was time to get back in it. Yang's fist wound tight around a safety rail, keeping her anchored on the lander. Ember Celica emblazoned her wrists, ready to unleash havoc. Her flak armor was strapped tight around her, causing her to shift uncomfortably. Always been a little tight on the girls, she thought to herself, trying once again to wiggle a little more breathing room into her armor.
Ros was next to her, one hand on the bar, the other clenching her lasgun. Noticing Yang's eyes, she gave her a weak smile and a nod. This was it. Yang beamed back.
And she felt free for the first time since she stepped foot on the Ascendant Dawn. The red haze that ate at her mind was gone, and she could breathe deeper, stretch as she used to.
They were here to clear an ork infestation that had sprung up a few months ago. Orders: link up with the PDF armor, set up defenses, and let the stupid green bastards spear themselves on a full regiments' worth of lasguns.
The lander bumped and rattled as it burned through atmo, heating the metal floor beneath them. Many of Yang's platoon members did not share her eagerness for a fight, and their green, pallid faces did not improve the mood.
Ros noticed as well. Taking a deep, filling breath, she stepped out from her place in the line and brought forth a plastic jar. A shrill buzz echoed throughout the lander, and the lights extinguished themselves, surrendering to a low, red glow.
"All right, Gamma Platoon!" Ros bellowed. "Just like church, now ya hear me?" A few nervous nods from her squad mates, but Yang looked around, puzzled. The red-haired corporal stomped her foot on the metal floor. Clang.
"Today we ride forward to do battle with the enemy!" A few stomps from the platoon, in perfect synch. Ros dipped a finger in her jar, and spread a dye of some sort on the trooper next to Yang. "Under the gaze of the Emperor, we will grind the xenos into dust! ÁUH!" She shouted, a cry taken up by many of the platoon. Clang.
"We Woadians were warriors once!"
"ÁUH!" Yang joined in this time, grinning. Their boots hammered the metal floor. Ros dabbed a smear of blue paint onto Yang's forehead, making a line down her nose.
"And it is clad in the armaments of the Imperium that we will be again!" Ros traced a swirling line on her flak armor, and moved down the line. Mael copied her work on the soldiers opposite of her, another jar in hand.
"With steel and holy las-fire, we will descend upon the enemy!"
"ÁUH!" Clang.
"With the men and women of Elodia, we will make our stand!"
"ÁUH!" CLANG. The entirety of the platoon took up her cry, slamming their heels down. Even Sergeant Jorvis.
"With curses on our lips and hatred in our hearts, victory will be ours!"
"ÁUH!" CLANG!
"With joy and zeal, we will lay down our lives for the Emperor!"
"ÁUH!" CLANG!
"With fire in our souls, we will leave no survivors!"
"ÁUH!" CLANG! Reaching the end of the line, Ros turned to face them all.
"DEATH! DEATH TO THE XENOS! AND DEATH TO ALL ENEMIES OF THE IMPERIUM!" She finished her speech with a roaring shout that managed to drown out the roar of decent.
"ÁUH!" Yang screamed with the rest of them, blood pumping hard against her temples. And where on Remnant did she pull that from? With a two-minute prayer, she turned the sickening, ashen faces of their comrades into visages of steely determination and zealous rage. Scary, to say the least. They take their xenophobia seriously.
She came to her, handing her the jar. Yang nodded, understanding. Dipping two fingers into the cool blue paint, she mirrored the markings Ros had given her. The harsh, tribal war paint settled onto her skin, her countenance now menacing and cruel.
The lander slowed as it approached the surface of Elodia IX, jets kicking on and screaming a fiery rage as they fought against gravity.
Yang beamed as she watched the door open beside her. Prop-wash whipped at hair, sending it into chaotic disarray. The kiss of wind was a welcome one, a liberating and welcome sensation after the stale, recycled air of the Ascendant Dawn. They touched down on the dusty surface of Elodia IX, the lander's belly settling a yard above the dirt.
Sergeant Jorvis waved them forward with his chainsword, bellowing and screaming. They poured out of the craft, lasguns at the ready, faces painted a fierce blue. As before, the scale of Imperial Warfare astounded Yang. The whole 111th was landing, ten thousand soldiers lining up and disembarking. Dust choked the air, kicked up by the hundreds of landing craft.
The Regimental commander Colonel Longinus von Israfel stood above them, perched atop a huge rock outcropping with his retinue flanking him. He pointed and gestured, speaking a few times to his vox-caster.
He was too far away for Yang to hear anything he was saying. He raised something over his head and yelled, a cry that was taken up by the entire regiment. Even Yang participated, roaring despite having no idea what they were yelling about.
Rhain reached for the vox-caster he'd been assigned, fiddling a few knobs on the machine.
"We got orders coming through." Jorvis nodded, pressing his microbead further into his ear. His other hand blocked out the winds and shouts that surrounded them. While they spoke with command, Yang clapped her friend on the back.
"That was an awesome speech, by the way. With that kinda energy, we could probably scream the orks into submission." Ros grinned, laughing slightly.
"Really? Mael wrote it out for me. Old woadian battle hymn, with my own additions. I thought I made a mess of it."
"You guys did good." She replied simply, gazing out at their friend's painted faces. Jorvis turned to address them.
"Ok, listen up, platoon! We're heading out! Follow me!" They obeyed, falling into line and jogging after him. Ros was behind him, then Yang and the rest of the squad. It was hard to see past a few yards, such was the press of bodies and roiling clouds of dust.
The 111th rushed to obey various orders, running to positions and scrambling to ready weapons. Boots by the thousands ground into the grey soil, hurried and purposeful.
"Command urges haste!" Rhain said, relaying the vox-chatter to the rest of the squad. "The xenos have been alerted to our presence and are spoiling for a fight!" Yang grinned. Besides the traitor marine, the Chaos cultists had been easy. She wondered how orks fought.
It took an hour of pushing through flak-armored bodies and dodging the gigantic treaded tanks that bustled around the LZ, but they reached their destination, the crest of a small hill.
Yang took a few glances around, trying to get a better picture of their surroundings. Besides the huge hive city that stood leagues behind them, the surrounding landscape was mostly barren. Colossal mesas and mountains stretched out in the distance, as grey as the gravel beneath their boots.
A dust storm of some sort was heading their way, dust kicking up and spilling into the wind.
"Ok, Platoon! Orders are to hold here! The orks should be here in a few hours!"
"Where are the orks, sir?" Yang asked.
"You're looking at them, Private!" He said, pointing at the dust storm.
Yang gave a low whistle. Looking to her flanks, she realized her platoon sat in the center of the 111th, surrounded by thousands of her Ranger brethren. Behind them stood the PDF, who had marched out of the city a few days beforehand, massive tanks and vehicles in tow. Even a mile away, the giant Basilisks were plainly visible, mobile artillery pieces whose steel barrels reached into the sky. Leman Russ Battle Tanks sat in front of them, squat and resolute.
The longer she looked at the encroaching Orks, the more concerned she grew. The number of green-skinned barbarians that bore down on them was truly astounding.
"Spades out, ladies!" Jorvis cried. "Dig some holes for the xenos to trip over! Trenches and foxholes people, get on it!" Yang obeyed, joining her platoon in some laborious digging. Soon she was sweating. It was hot on this blasted planet, and there wasn't a single cloud or piece of shade.
An hour later, she stood, wiping her forehead. The orks looked closer. Too close.
"Hey, contact! We got contact!" She yelled. Jorvis ripped out his binoculars, following her fervent pointing.
"Well I'll be damned. They got fast movers! Lock and load people! Mael, get on that rocket launcher! Caolin, hit 'em as soon as you can. Rhain, get the Basilisks on the horn!" Yang packed her spade away, and readied her lasgun.
The platoon followed suit, scrambling behind the shallow trench they had constructed. Thousands of woadians followed suit, readying themselves for the ramshackle vehicles that screamed towards them.
"Artillery Batteries one through twelve!" Rhain shouted. "Requesting fire support, how copy?"
Yang looked down the iron sights of her weapon. Ember Celica was useless at this range, at least with the shells she had with her. The slugs would have been more useful, but those had disappeared when she arrived on Woadia.
"Coordinates two-niner, four klicks from map reference point Falcon-6."
The runners that approached them were quite unlike any Imperium machinery Yang had seen before. Threadbare and filled to the brim with hooting green orks, they barely looked functional. Bits of metal and rusted spikes protruded from them, all painted in a garish red and checkerboard patterns.
"Copy that!" Rhain yelled. "Fire for effect!"
The ground shook, vibrating from the unrelenting power of the Basilisks' barrage. Yang felt her stomach drop from the utter force.
Her hand tightened around the lasgun, ready, waiting. Thunderous blasts burst forth before her, enormous plumes of dirt and fire erupting into the air as the Basilisks struck. The vehicles nearest the blasts were vaporized, torn to shreds. More of them swerved and toppled, crushing their occupants below them. Each strike shook the ground, each blast blowing hundreds of orks apart.
Caolin's long-las barked as he tried to pick off the drivers. Red beams soared downrange, most missing their mark. Decrepit and crude though they were, the armored trucks were fast. One of Caolin's hotshot rounds hit home. The driver spilled out of his seat, throwing the whole thing off course. It crashed into another truck, ramming it and sending them tumbling end over end into the earth.
"Golden Throne! What a beautiful shot, Caolin!" Ros cried.
"Hear that, Mael?" Caolin asked with a wide grin, nudging the giant mute. "Actual praise." His face was still pressed into his scope.
Mael did not respond. His fingers wound tight around his Aquila, lips forming silent words that would never find wind. The launcher was braced against his shoulder.
As the trucks neared, the air was filled with their howling engines and hooting orks.
"Open fire!" Jorvis cried. Red beams poured forth, railing against the ork armor. They returned fire, blaring autoguns ripping into the 111th. A guardsman from their sister platoon caught one of the rounds in her chest. She exploded backwards from the force, showering her comrades in blood.
"Oh, Emperor protect me!" Someone cried.
"FACE FORWARD, MAGGOT!" A sergeant cried.
The flurry of las beams did nothing to stop the orks' advance. A round whistled over Yang's head, missing by inches. She grimaced, hammering the trigger of her lasgun. Mael gave a wordless roar, and fired.
The lead vehicle shattered and burst apart under the screaming rocket. Molten slag rained down around them, propelled by momentum. The Leman Russ tanks opened fire, scything down the poorly-armored trucks. Explosions and chaos reigned, a crushing swell of noise and heat.
"FOR THE EMPEROR!" Jorvis cried. The platoon echoed his cry, redoubling their efforts. Trucks slammed into the Imperial lines, crushing dozens of guardsmen under their treads. Some were impaled by the rusted rebar spikes that jutted out from their fronts. They hung there, screaming and clutching at the shards of metal that protruded from their chests.
Orks tumbled off their mounts, firing wildly and hacking soldiers apart. Now that she had a closer look at the Orks, Yang was surprised. In the Imperial Guardsmen's Uplifting Primer, she took every hate-filled litany about xenos with a grain of salt, but found the passages about Orks all too accurate.
They were huge and beastly, snarling and smelling.
"COME N' FIGHT ME, HUMIES!" One bellowed, swinging a primitive, scrap-metal axe around its head. Jorvis wasted no time obliging it, blowing the creature's head apart with a single shot of his bolt pistol.
Yang leapt to the side, dodging a truck that barreled into the battle lines. Mael's launcher swung to meet it. The rocket struck home, blasting the vehicle apart and vaporizing several nearby orks. They burst apart, showering her in gore.
A burning ork rushed at her, firing his weapon. The rounds crashed into her aura, throwing her backwards.
"YANG!" Ros cried.
"I'm fine!" Yang yelled, stumbling into an ork. She spun around and fired a salvo of las-fire into his stomach. He stumbled and roared, seemingly unhurt. Yang snarled at the apparent uselessness of her gun. She leapt up, straddling the ork around his neck. Unleashing Ember Celica, she hammered the creature, gauntleted, aura-enhanced fists railing against its skull. It whimpered and died, slumping to the earth.
An ork scythed down her comrades, bullets spewing from his mounted turret.
"NEVAH HAVE ENUFF DAKKA!" It yelled, giving a deep, gleeful laugh. Ros dashed forward under the hail of fire, tossing a grenade at the green monstrosity. She dove as it exploded, hitting the dirt as shrapnel tore the ork to shreds.
The din of battle slowly ceased as the orks were beaten back. The rickety contraptions that had assaulted them died down and broke apart, the orks they bore eventually brought to heel under a torrent of las-fire.
"Who's hurt? Give me a status report!" Jorvis cried, stained in ork and human blood. His chainsword gurgled and spat, soaked in viscera.
"We lost Sigfried, Malla, Varrick and Ludas, sir!" Someone cried. "Got a few wounded too!"
"Move them to the back and prepare for the main assault!" Wearily, the platoon obeyed, the deaths of their comrades pushed aside in favor of immediate survival. "Hurry, damn you all! They're closing in!" Yang peered over the trench, seeing the Sergeant's words were true.
"Smart." She breathed. "They used their vehicles to shock and disorient us, while the main force moves up behind." Ros wiped Ludas' blood off her face. He'd had his neck opened by an ork sword.
"Orks don't think like that, Yang. They don't think at all. These ones attacked first because they were faster." Yang let out a small laugh.
"I guess you're right! Nice grenade toss, by the way."
"Thanks. Wish I'd gotten to it sooner." Ros said. She turned to Yang. "How are you alive?" Worry creased her sweat-stained face. "I thought you got hit by that big bastard with the horned helmet."
"Uh..." Shit. Shit shit shitty shit. "I tripped." Yang said lamely. If they knew about my aura…
"…Right…" Ros replied, ramming a new battery into her lasgun. Her fingers wrapped tight around the weapon, and she scowled. "Just try to be more careful." Yang nodded, having no intentions to do anything resembling that.
Caolin's long-las kicked against his shoulder as he fired into the encroaching crowd. The Basilisks fired into the mass, ripping gaping holes into the ork lines. Each salvo cut down hundreds, but still they came.
"WAAAAGGGGHHH!" They cried. Yang fired as fast as she could. She tried to pick her targets at first, but as they reached the bottom of the hill, she stopped being choosy. There were simply too many.
Orks fell in their hundreds as they stormed forward, their singular war cry unimpeded. Yang grinned. This is what she'd been looking for.
Bullets crashed into the dirt around them, kicking up dust and gravel. Guardsmen fell, torn asunder by the volume of Ork fire. A man fell in front of Yang, screaming in agony as his blood poured out of him in rushing rivers. Jorvis gave him the Emperor's mercy, before turning his bolt-pistol on the orks again.
"NO QUARTER, NO INCH OF GROUND GIVEN! FOR THE EMPEROR!" He cried, raising his chainsword high.
"FOR THE EMPEROR!" They echoed. Yang found herself screaming as well. Mael fired his rocket launcher, carving great gaps into the screaming horde. They screamed and howled, ripped apart by the furious guardsmen.
The lines met once more. Orks piled over the trenches, butchering guardsmen left and right. Chaos reigned, the shouts and screams of combat pouring into the air.
An ork pounced on Caolin, bellowing in his face while he raised his axe. Yang burst forward with her aura, slamming into it with all her might. The punch tore into the ork, sending him stumbling back into the waiting bayonets of her comrades. She hauled Caolin up. He looked shell-shocked. Risky using aura like that, but he was moments from death. Yang didn't give it much thought though. Restraint was never her strong suit.
Another ork charged her, brandishing a pistol. Running at him, she fired her lasgun, which did no more than irritate its green skin. She ducked under its strike, but it kicked her, sending her sprawling. Her helmet came undone as she spun and tumbled, unbinding her golden hair.
"HUMIE TOO EASY." It said, firing its pistol. She was too fast. Leaping upwards, she brought a heel down on the creature's jaw, shattering it open. Ramming her lasgun into the opening, she poured six high-powered shots into its stomach. It toppled backwards, dead.
Death. She was surrounded by death. The press of the green-skinned xenos was too much. There were so many. Not even the armored support made a dent in their numbers. Yang dodged another strike, ignoring the creatures' guttural howls. Another, unseen, ork knocked her over, straight into the chest of another.
Disoriented, Yang fell to her knee, breathing heavy. A chain axe spluttered above her head, screaming for her death. A red burst of light knocked its wielder's hand away.
"GET AWAY FROM HER, XENO!" Ros screamed, bloodied and fierce. It was all the time Yang needed. She jumped up and hammered the Ork into the ground.
"WHAT'S THE 'OLDUP, BOYZ?" A voice sounded from behind ork lines. A giant, armored beast shambled forth. He was a good deal taller than his comrades, wielding a giant, beastly axe. Other orks broke away before him, cowering in deference. Their superior. Perfect, Yang thought, beaming.
"You!" She cried, pointing at the green monstrosity. "Come fight me!" It snarled. "What? You scared?"
"WAAAGGHHH! I'LL SMASH YOU UP WIFF ME CHOPPA!" It cried. Yang threw her lasgun aside, unleashing Ember Celica. Before the ork could open fire, she burst forward, screaming. Her fist connected with its face, shells shattering the creature's jaw. It stumbled back. Yang brought her arm back for another strike, but the colossal being knocked her aside with the flat of his hand. She tasted blood. Ugh. Ow.
She righted herself, just in time to dodge the howling axe. It lodged into the ground, buried up to the hilt. Ember Celica's thundering blasts ricocheted off his skin, before finding purchase and chewing up the giant ork. Blood splashed her by the gallon, but she did not relent. The creature snatched her legs and smashed her against the ground.
Stars. She saw so many stars. She found herself on the ground, blood pouring out of her nostrils. Everything hurt. A small lock of golden hair floated through the air, lighting upon the grey and blood-soaked earth.
She snarled.
Its laugh was cut short by Yang slamming it aside with a vicious right hook. It stumbled, revealing the gaping wound she'd inflicted on it. Another guttural roar, and she ran forward, bringing a fist across its head. Its head met the ground, its oversized fangs crushed under the force of the blow.
She picked the 'choppa' up, swinging it to rest on her shoulder. An ork rushed to stop her, but its head left its body before it could get close. She raised the weapon. The big ork raised its arm, a feeble, useless gesture. "NEVER, EVER TOUCH MY FUCKING HAIR!" The weapon whistled, splitting the xenos' arm in half and smashing its skull across the earth.
Vaguely, she could sense her comrades fighting around her, falling back under the crush of green bodies. These aliens were not the cultists. They weren't human, and would not stop their assault until the last of them perished.
A Leman Russ smashed into a crowd of orks next to her, adding another spray of dirt and blood into the air as it ground trampled corpses into mulch. Dust was everywhere, and visibility was around a dozen yards and dropping. When the tank exploded, all Yang felt was the sudden heat and wave of force that sent her sprawling. Crawling through the struggling and chaos, she came before the wreck of blackened metal and charred corpses.
Miraculously, one of the heavy bolters that the Leman Russ carried escaped the fate of its host. It smoked, sitting forgotten on the earth. Yang grinned.
Reaching out for it, a foot came down on her arm. While her aura kept it from snapping in two, it came dangerously close to depletion. Exhaustion seeped into her, sapping the strength from her limbs. The ork roared, hefting a machete that would surely bring her end.
With a flash of heat and a crashing bang, the ork melted before her eyes, vaporized by one of Mael's rockets crashing into his back. Gore splashed her like a tsunami, steaming and rank. She thanked him with a nod, she stumbled forward, hands clasping around the bulky weapon sat in the dirt. Her ears rang, a pounding, leaden toll that deafened the battle around her. Why did he have to use a rocket? She hefted the heavy bolter with a strained grunt. As strong as she was, the thing was brutally heavy, and the handles were almost too hot to hold. Channeling the remnants of her aura into her arms, she racked the enormous weapon.
"DIE!" She screamed, pulling the trigger. It howled, sending .75 caliber, adamantium-jacketed rockets screaming into the mass of orks, tearing the thick-skinned xenos apart like wet tissue paper. She bellowed as casings fluttered out of the bolter by the hundreds. The weapon was so loud; it utterly deafened the cacophony around her. But Yang didn't care.
A resounding cry burst forth behind her, countless voices giving it strength. Rallying, the 111th Woadian Rangers pushed forward, driving the orks back. Rhain, Ros and guardsmen by the dozens stormed past her flanks, screaming wordless war cries. Ros drove a scavenged chainsword into the leg of an ork, severing it completely as it roared in pain.
Yang joined her comrades in their resurgent furor, stepping forward with her heavy bolter as it chewed the xenos to pieces. Her hands hurt, and the weapon's barrel was slowly sinking to the ground, growing heavier each second. Everything hurt. Muscles and sinew cried out in protest as she fired, but she would not falter. Not when her friend's lives were on the line. Not when she was having so much fun.
Another ork fell before her, giant thudding impacts tearing his body apart. Each step was growing more and more difficult, but she pushed forward.
Finally, the heavy bolter coughed its last rounds, the drum she'd been dragging around finally expended. She dropped it the instant the last shell left it, the grey gravel rushing to meet her. It felt like someone was stripping her muscles from her bone, and her breaths came heavy and hot. The endless, deafening noise of combat blended together, a droning mess of battle and death.
Blackness.
A/N: Well, what'd you think? I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. (Can you tell?!) I hope you had a blast reading it!
A few notes: I originally gave Mael a melta, which TheSolInvictus made me realize was really quite silly. Maybe in the future...
And the orks didn't fight in the hive city because I said so. It might have made more sense for them to attack there, but that would have demanded more chapters and would have dragged out for longer than necessary.
By the way this is the climactic chapter of Book 1 - Baptism by Fire. That does not mean it is the last chapter in this story, FAR from it. Just that this story arc - Yang's introduction into the Warhammer 40k galaxy- is at an end. Just to clarify... NEXT WEEK'S UPDATE WILL STILL BE POSTED HERE.
Just so there's no confusion.
Next chapter - The Inquisition is introduced!
Review Replies:
DanAbnettFan1997: Hey, glad you like 'em! Put a lot of thought into how they interact. And I hope enough shit went down just now!
L4 of the West: You didn't miss a tick! Yang's arrival is supposed to by a bit of mystery. And yes! You're precisely correct. Glad to see that was coming off somewhat well.
TheSolInvictus: As I said before, Yang's dismissive treatment of the shaving policies was a lighthearted attempt at humor. But as you know, Yang's hair is a touchy subject... And I went back and edited the previous chapter a bit. I didn't mean to imply that the Woadians actually trained with Plasma guns!
RED Roman Pyro: 'Cheap and convenient meat shield' are probably the most apt words anyone could use to describe the Imperial Guard.
reality deviant: Thanks! :D
thefluffyone93: We'll find out next chapter, won't we? ;) Oh, and no 'Look out, sir!' for Yang, that's for damn sure.
giodan: I assume you mean Inquisitor... and you'll soon find out!
revanchistsunite: Holy shit, you are so right. The instant Yang sees one, it's gonna die, and the deepest pit of the warp ain't gonna be deep enough for that poor bastard to hide in.
The Walrus of Eden: Hey, it's only get more badass from here on out.
For all my weekly reviewers, thank you so much. Seriously. Without you guys, this story would be dead in the water. You know who you are and KEEP 'EM COMING!
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(It's a very humble throne)