A/N: I swear I'm not planning to release at the same time as RWBY S3 episodes, but that's just what's happening! GET HYPE! :D
Book Two: Corruption's End
Chapter 36: Home
"Her smile never once faltered." - Joo-yi, child of Shao-la
The rattling of the lander as it broke through the atmosphere of Uriel sent tremors running through Yang, a chill that crawled its way up her spine and settled into her fingertips. A low hum echoed against the cold metal of the hold, the reformed Gamma platoon preparing itself for combat once more. Gone were the fresh-faced recruits who'd trembled in front of the greenskins. Gone were the children that left their homes and family. In their place stood men and women, warriors all.
And they were angry.
"Listen up troopers!" Jorvis bellowed, the blaring howl of descent accenting his cry for attention. "We've got a hot drop today, so expect shit to go south real quick. The arch-foe just got a fuck-ton of reinforcements, and they're getting all uppity! They think they're tough!" A cry of disapproval met this, the platoon's faces twisted in anger and contempt. "They think they're invincible, and the up-start greenies aren't doing a good enough job of proving them wrong! It's our turn, Woadians!" As they roared their approval, Jorvis punched a button on Ros' harness. "Up and at 'em, Corporal." Saluting, she reached into her armor, withdrawing the black tube of paint. Each Woadian knew what it meant.
"Men and Women of Woadia!" She screamed, tossing the cap aside and tossing a spare tube to Mael. "Join me in prayer!" The reply was singular, unanimous, and teeth-rattling.
"ÁUH!" Their feet hammered the floor, heels clashing against the metallic floor.
"Once more, we ride to battle! Once more, we join the fray! Once more, we bring battle to the arch-foe!" Dipping her fingers in paint, Ros marked Yang first, drawing a line down her nose before highlighting her eyes with cruel, spiralling twists. The pattern was more intricate this time, and she marked her blonde friend with a stylized aquila that stretched across her flak armor.
"Hear me now," she said, moving down the line. "We came to Elodia as meat."
"ÁUH!"
"And we came to Jala Prime as prey!"
"ÁUH!"
"But we came to Shao-la as saviors!" She cried, her brow furrowed in righteous anger.
"ÁUH!" Coming to Caolin, he gave her a brief nod. Acknowledging it, she drew a lazy spiral around his eye, one that crossed over his long scar and reached down his neck.
"Now," Ros said, moving on, "we come to Uriel as saviors once more!"
"ÁUH!" After their feet clashed against the floor, a sudden jerk of the lander stumbled Ros and Mael. Outside the lander, Yang heard a symphony of explosions, each one throwing their craft into a gale of turbulence. Her friends moved on, faces set in rigid determination.
"We have faced trials before my friends, my brothers and sisters!" Ros bellowed, spewing blood from her mouth. She'd bitten her tongue.
"ÁUH!"
"We have been forged in the fires of battle, under guidance from the Emperor Himself!"
"ÁUH!" Another explosion threw the lander off-course, jarring them all in their harnesses. An explosion ripped the rear of the craft free, and shrapnel ripped through the hull. Ros tripped, but Asgeg caught her, their hair flying free in the open hold. As light spilled in from the exterior, a sky of death greeted them beyond.
As Ros continued her prayer, Yang glanced beyond the twisted, fragmented window through which Uriel emerged. It was a tangled mess of towering gothic spires and factories, each one spewing smog into the flier-choked skies. Dogfights by the hundreds lit up the polluted clouds, stitches of tracer fire arcing through the air as fighter craft circled and dove.
Behind their shredded craft, a host of Woadian landers descended, bobbing and weaving through the black bursts of AA.
"And now, amidst the fury of the arch-foe, we descend!" Ros continued, pointing at the chaos in their wake. "We are the chosen of the Inquisition! The chosen of the Emperor!"
"ÁUH!" Gamma cried, stomping their feet in unison. The lights in the hold switched off, replaced by a flickering red light.
"Our time is now! Aided by the Holy Sisters, by the forces of Uriel, battle calls once more! WILL YOU DENY IT?" Ros screamed, finishing the last trooper's war paint.
"No!" They bellowed, faces twisted into rage and righteous, eager fury. Behind them, a cloud of shrapnel burst a lander apart, consuming it in a ball of fire.
"Then go forth! Kill and be killed!" Ros cried, ignoring the screaming descent of their dead comrades. "The Emperor Protects!"
"The Emperor protects!" They replied. As the hive city grew taller, the rank scent of Uriel's rampant pollution filled the hold.
Bouncing in her harness, Yang wore a feral grin. Many Woadians copied her, adrenaline coursing through their veins. No matter what happens, Yang thought, readying her lasgun, I'm going to do my best. The light switched to green, and the doors tried to open, halted by the wounds the lander suffered.
"Go, go, go!" Jorvis yelled, bludgeoning the doors open. "Guns hot, boys and girls," he ordered as a tracer whickered off the craft. They spilled out of the hold and stepped into a quagmire of death. A toxic industrial hell stretched out before them, alive with bullets, screaming soldiers, and the flashes of lasfire. Piles of refuse and forge-scrap had been converted into a field of death, crawling with cultists and strewn with corpses. The middens of discarded metal formed crude trenches, steep hills and plunging valleys, all suffused with a glowing red pollution. Vehicles by the hundreds studded a struggling battle line, tanks and Basilisks letting loose a chorus of doom. Troops in their hundreds of thousands accompanied them, a massive wall of green-clad humanity.
Yang leapt from the lander, bellowing a wordless war-cry. As soon as her boots hit the rusted metal that stretched across the ground, she unleashed her lasgun. Gamma fell in behind her, spreading out under her covering fire, singing war hymns and the Emperor's praises. The enemy was an encroaching tide of muzzle flashes and skittering brown forms, advancing under a punishing wail of lasbolts. This… this is war, Yang realized. Even Shao-la was little more than a skirmish compared to the massive meat grinder before her. If she wasn't busy killing, the sheer scale would have made her jaw drop. It was possible there were more soldiers in the battle then people in the entire Kingdom of Vale.
Crouching in a trench carved out of a discarded pipeline and a long-dry canal, an entire company of guardsmen exchanged fire with the enemy, each man fresh-faced and frightened. They watched the Woadians' arrival with awe, gulping nervously as they spied their ebony flak armor and the silver emblem on their chests. Approaching the battle-line was difficult and treacherous, as there was no solid ground in the wastes that stretched before them. The earth was nothing but channels of brown sludge and twisted iron.
"Up you dogs!" Jorvis said, pointing at the enemy with his chainsword. A hiss of death attempted to put him down, and the snap-crackle of passing rounds rained upon them like a hailstorm. Scrambling to the trench, they ducked under the scraps of metal that boiled under the weight of enemy lasbolts. "Fire! Fire, damn you!"
Yang dashed forward with her lasgun in hand, almost overwhelmed by the sheer noise and the smell. Her stomach churned at the reek of promethium, exacerbated by the rank stench of factory waste and rotting metal. At the same time, her heart was thudding against her flak armor, desperate to be free of her chest. This was the Imperium in its fullest, rawest form. Sucking in the foul miasma, she couldn't stop a grin from spreading across her face. As some rookie guardsmen looked up at her in fear and reverence, her smile grew wider.
"You heard him, boys!" She yelled, pointing them to their posts. Up and at 'em!" Gulping, they obeyed, turning over the lip of the pipeline and exchanging fire. A mortar shell landed a few dozen yards away, throwing up shredded bodies and a shrill screams.
Sliding into cover, she joined Ros and Caolin, who pressed themselves tight against the corpse of an old tank. Blood from the mortar's victims rained around them, and howling, mutilated cadavers crawled around on weeping stumps. They succumbed one by one, drowning in the mud, colored crimson by gore and pearlescent oil-slicks.
"Now this is a fucking shit-show if I've ever seen one," Ros screamed, loosing a few bolts at the heretics.
"Trooper Roriksson!" Jorvis cried, his bolt-pistol barking. "Get a read on the situation. Up and down the line!" Couching his long-las against some twisted rebar, he scanned the battle, ducking as rounds sparked against their cover.
"Emperor protect us!" A guardsman near them screamed, throwing himself to the floor. Jorvis scooped him up, dragging him back into cover.
"What the in the name of the Throne is going on here, Trooper!" The Sergeant screamed. The rookie's eyes flashed and flickered, unsure where to go. Quivering, his lips tried to spit out words that couldn't find air. "C'mon, speak! Who's in charge here?"
"I-I-I I don't know my Lord," he stammered. "Captain Giger bought it right off the bat, and I haven't seen my Sarge in three hours…" he cringed as a lasbolt lanced past their heads, close enough to singe Yang's breathing air.
"Fuck, man!" She cried, taking a look for herself. The brown forms were closer, but weren't as suicidal as their spiritual brethren on Ranshu. They kept up the pressure, crawling over shards of refuse and fallen bodies to join their comrades. However, an enormous assault was taking place a half-kilometer away, a tide of brown sweeping against the mountain of rubble that jutted out from a pile of industrial trash. Spraying her lasgun down the small hill they crowned, Yang ducked, just in time to avoid a cannon round that wailed overhead. It fell far away, sending up a cloud of freed rust and spiraling limbs.
"How long have they been on you?" Jorvis demanded, shaking the recruit by his pauldrons.
"S-s-six hours, sir! My Lord!" He said, trying to regain his composure. "They've been all over Hill Thirty-Seven there." He pointed at the hill that Yang had seen. "We've… been pushing them back for awhile now, but they get closer each time."
Growling, Yang peered over the pipeline lip once more. Her aura boiled underneath her skin, begging to be unleashed, thrashing against the bars of its cage. Let it loose.
No! She thought. Throne, her shoulder hurt. The utter chaos, the impossible scale of it all got under her skin, and the adrenaline burned as it scoured its way through her veins. How many people are fighting and dying in front of me? She couldn't count them all, try as she might. The chaotic nature of the landscape made it impossible, and the constant wail of small-arms fire drowned out rational thought. With a snarl, she fired her lasgun until the barrel smoked.
It felt wrong. Ember Celica lamented on her wrists, begging for use. The sword strapped to her back thirsted for blood. She could almost hear their siren calls.
It was horrifying. It was awesome. Slapping a fresh cell into her lasgun, she realized she was smiling, and shook it away. Asgeg fell in next to her, panting and breathless. Already, soot streaked her face, a tapestry of blue paint and filth.
"What in the name of the Emperor are we doing out here?" She yelled over the crash of cannon. Yang wondered the same thing. Where's Weiss? Why does she want us out here? A flash of black silk and a bouncing blue helm grabbed her attention. Alpha platoon was on their left, weathering the hail of enemy fire.
"We get any other orders, Sarge?" Yang asked, turning to Jorvis.
"We're waiting for our Lady!" He bellowed, jamming a new mag into his bolt pistol. "It's a fucking nightmare out there, we just have to hold 'em off!" He snarled. The battle at the Hill was going poorly, and snaking rivers of green-clad troopers fled from the rubble. They spewed red bolts behind them to no avail.
Kalla squawked as a transmission crackled in his headset. Pressing the receiver into his ear, he ducked deeper into cover. When it was over, he got Jorvis' attention.
"The Lady Inquisitor wants us to provide an example for the troops," he said. "Break the heretic's attack."
"And how the fuck are we supposed to do that?" Jorvis demanded, bolt pistol blaring.
"Take Hill Thirty Seven," Kalla replied, fingers tight around his vox-caster.
"That's suicidal," Ros shouted. Caolin spat his agreement before letting loose with his long-las.
"We'll get chewed up out there," Theni added.
"Not if we had some artillery support and the Sisters," Yang countered. "You saw what they did on Shao-la! Plus, you guys stay behind me, and we'll be fine."
"Our Lady's given us our orders," Jorvis said, fixing his beret with a scowl, "We obey. And Trooper Xiao Long's got a good point. We move fast, and we'll be fine. Not like hanging around these useless shitstains is any better." The rookie soldier swallowed. "That's right, I'm talking about you. Kalla!" Jorvis said, spinning. "When are we stepping off?"
"Twenty minutes, rendezvous at grid marker six-oh-seven," Kalla said, a bullet burying itself into the cover before him.
"Well?" Jorvis asked. "Don't just stand there! Get a move on, Gamma!"
"Aye!" They bellowed back.
After twenty minutes of fighting through the chaotic, hellish trenches and shallow metallic fox-holes, Gamma platoon and the rest First Company stood opposite Hill Thirty Seven, crouched behind the lip of the long-dried canal. The roar of warfare had not diminished in the time it took to get here, only swelling as the cultists swarmed forward.
"This is crazy," Caolin said. "I can't believe our Lady ordered this."
"She's an Inquisitor," Lana said, reaching for a necklace. "She knows best." Her eyes closed, and a whisper crawled past her lips. "But H-Holy God Emperor I don't wanna go out there," she murmured, pressing a kiss onto her aquila. Yang tried to shut her out. She knew Weiss' plan could mean the death of her comrades, but it was necessary. As much as it set her blood to boiling, Yang could see Weiss' cold logic behind the assault. They'd all die if something wasn't done to curb the cultists' advance. Overwhelmed, outflanked, the rookies would break and fold, and whatever was left would be ground into mulch.
I'll just have to do my best to keep them all safe.
The gurgle of engines approached, and three Basilisks jockeyed into position, leveling their enormous earthshaker cannons. Behind them, the canal was crowded with Woadians, each crouched and ready to meet the enemy. They chanted and sung, prayed and stomped, amping themselves up for the assault. Then, as one, they went quiet. Yang turned to find out why, and her jaw dropped.
The Lady Inquisitor stood before them, braving the onslaught of enemy fire in her resplendent armor. Even as bullets snapped overhead and lasbolts sizzled the air around them, she remained unfazed, her face hidden behind a terrifying skull mask. Her cape drank in the battle-flashes and red glow of pollution, a slice of night flapping in the wind. A spiked ebony halo stretched across her shoulders, radiant and glimmering silver.
She shone.
"Woadians! I ask one thing of you today!" She bellowed, her voice echoing across the wastelands as it boomed forth from her mask. "I ask you to follow me!" Ira appeared behind her, his arms splitting apart and grasping a pair of swords. His face was writ in awe as he looked up at his master, a look echoed by countless others. "I ask you to follow me, and bring death to the arch-foe! The Imperium calls upon us to protect its forges! Its very ability to wage war!" Activating her sword, she pointed it at Hill Thirty Seven. "And that stands in our way! Bring your hate!" She bellowed, seizing her inferno pistol. "Muster your anger! Prepare yourselves, and remember, the Emperor is watching!"
"Áuh!" They cried back, throwing their fists into the air. A whistle pierced the howling gale of war and the Basilisks readied.
"Zero elevation!" A bombardier screamed. "High explosive! Deflection, point five-niner-six! Ready… FIRE!" The Basilisks boomed, a sound that flooded Yang's ears with ringing. The hill was sundered apart by the salvo, scattering clouds of shattered structure and shards of metal into the air.
"CHAAAAAAARGE!" The Lady Inquisitor cried. The Sister's Thunderhawks soared overhead, blaring bolters and a cavalcade of rockets. Yang bellowed a wordless war cry before, plunging forward, the entirety of the 111th at her back.
Her feet thundered across the ground, a blur of speed and unrelenting power. She sucked in reeling breaths as she leapt over the countless piles of debris and twisting rubble. Ahead of her, the enemy was little more than a collection of muzzle-flashes and brown dots.
Beside her, Weiss stampeded forward, shrugging off lasbolts and bullets like they were flies. Her halo glowed and pulsed as it deflected them. The skull unnerved Yang, but she ignored the thought for now, battle was almost upon her.
More artillery rained down, illuminating the horizon with brilliant yellow flashes. A flier swept low, its guns deafening as they drenched the Woadians with spent casings. Ros, Mael, Asgeg, Theni and Jorvis were right behind her, faces taught with determination.
The charge was enormous, almost seven thousand troopers spread out over a battle line half a kilometer long. Their charge was the epitome of the Imperium, and Yang couldn't help but love it. This is what she was made to do.
A bullet whickered off her pauldron, turned aside by her aura. A stubber lit into them, scything down their left flank. Gritting her teeth, Yang pushed on, careful not to let her hair show. They were closer. Almost two hundred meters now. Hill Thirty Seven loomed above them, still guarded by a few green-clad holdouts at its base. A mortar strike landed in front of her, lifting her off her feet and throwing her against a jutting sheet of steel.
"Yang!" Ros screamed, sprinting up to her. She'd lost her helmet, and red hair played across her sweat-streaked face.
"I'm fine!" Yang said, jumping to her feet. Bits of shrapnel stuck out of her flak armor, smoking and hissing. "I'm fine! We need to keep moving!" But as the mortars did their work, the press of soldiery stalled to halt. Only Weiss, Ira, and her guard pressed on, undeterred.
"Fuck!" Yang shouted. "Where's our armor? The Sisters?" She asked. And for that matter, where's the standard? she thought, searching for the 111th's battle flag. Captain Lyrasson and Alpha platoon had been right behind them. If the attack crawls to a stop, it won't just be the rookies who need rescuing… She saw a flash of black silk as the warped astartes helmet wavered and fell, its bearer staggering as a stub round tore chunks away from his torso. Her eyes widened, and she dove forward, catching the standard before it hit the ground. She caught the bearer too, letting him down with respect and reverence. He gurgled and spat, pleading with Yang, making some unknown request. She closed his eyes when he breathed his last.
Staring at the gunmetal pole in her hands, she knew what she had to do.
"C'mon!" She said, screaming until she was hoarse. "Our Lady needs us! For Woadia!" Pointing the standard at the Hill, she bellowed, and continued her charge. The response was singular and roaring, barely audible over the cacophony of battle.
"FOR WOADIA!"
The 111th threw themselves after her, inspired by her recklessness, her utter contempt for death. Making sure she stayed in front of Ros, she plunged forward. The banner snapped and fluttered with speed, soaring forward into the storm of death. In mere seconds, she caught up with Weiss, her steel-toed boots striding alongside her friend's power armor.
"Yang?" She hissed, firing her inferno pistol.
"Well don't thank me all at once. Now come on, let's go, go, go!" They leaped down from a platform, sliding down a sheet of pockmarked concrete. The Hill loomed over them, spilling over with enemies. They passed the rookie guardsmen, who were caught up and absorbed into their assault.
Drawing her power sword with her free hand, she thumbed the activation rune and stormed forward, ignoring the hail of gunfire. She smiled. She felt alive, invincible, untouchable. An angel of war. Deliverance would visit Uriel, not in the form of the Emperor, but from her, banner clenched tight in a steady hand.
Up close, she saw the cultists were dirty, scrawny things, wrapped in mismatched brown rags and crude gas masks. They faltered as they saw her nearing, their guns spent and spitting inert gas and metallic clicks. They were close now, lined up in a trench made of ancient rockcrete and corroded steel.
Closer.
She couched the standard under her arm, a grin pulling itself across her face.
Closer.
As the wall of Woadians smashed against the trenches, they let out a tremendous war-cry.
Now.
Yang launched herself into the air and plunged into the enemy trenches, spearing the nearest heretic with the banner. Wheeling around, she split another from balls to brain, power sword humming as it splattered her with burnt blood.
Theni landed next to her, lasgun blaring on full-auto. Back to back, they choked the rust-mud ground with bodies. The other rangers dove in to help, falling upon enemy reinforcements and tearing them apart. Asgeg sent one six meters into the sky with her augmentic arm, where he was torn apart by lasbolts.
"Yang!" Ros cried, ripping her bayonet free of a cultist, "Next one, move on!"
"You heard her," Jorvis bellowed, chainsaw whirring. His flank was splattered with blood, gore dripping from his purring weapon. "After our Lady!" Launching herself over to continue the push, Yang saw Weiss dancing through them with ease, elegant and graceful as she waded through seas of rancid blood. With a howl of plasma engines, the Sisters arrived, jumping from their fliers and landing beside their master. They were singing, but the din of war and the pulsing, pounding, sensual ache of blood pumping against her ears drowned out the words.
They unleashed a barrage of firepower upon the cultists, cutting them down as they shifted into a better position. Yang rushed to join Weiss. Gamma platoon followed, panting as their warpaint ran like rivers down their faces.
Waving the standard, she ushered them on, ignoring the bullets and lasbolts that swarmed around her. Ira stood just beyond, surrounded by two whirring blades, each crackling with power. What few heretics still near him died, ground into chunks before raining upon the scrapyard battle.
"Weiss!" Yang said, joining her friend. She was ramming a new cell into her inferno pistol, which spewed smoke from every orifice. "Where do you need me?"
Locking the power cell in, the Inquisitor pointed at the Woadian vanguard. "Do what you do best Yang," she said, her voice metallic and hollow as it rang out from under her mask. Yang grinned. Jorvis dove behind a knife of jutting rockcrete near her, bolt pistol barking. Sliding to join him, she tapped his shoulder.
"Trooper Xiao Long? What the fuck?"
"I'm moving up! Stay behind the Sisters," she yelled over the lasbolt that split the air between them and smacked into Caolin.
"Caolin!" She screamed as he fell backwards, stumbling and searching for purchase. He found nothing, and collapsed backward. Screaming, she leapt from her post. "Caolin!" Ros was nearer, and turned their friend over as she shook his shoulders.
He gave them a thumbs up, grinning as blood trailed from his lips.
"I'm fine!" He said, clumsily patting Ros' pleading face. "Hurts like a motherfucker, but my armor caught it. Ah, fucking Emperor!" He yelled, clenching at his smoking flak plates. "I guess we're even now," he said, trying to laugh.
"Find Varus and get him help!" Yang said. They didn't need to follow where she was going.
"Yang?" Ros asked.
"Stay put, Ros!" She growled. Without a second glance, she rejoined the fight. The heretics were consolidating, pulling back for defilade amidst the ruins of some rusted leviathan flier. The Sisters pushed onward, surrounded by black-clad Woadians. They were slowing, and some rolled into cover, hounded by lasbolts.
Yang stormed forward, the banner in her hand flapping.
"C'mon," she called, "Let's go!" Corralling the regiment with her sword, she whipped them into a frenzy, slamming the standard against the ground as she ran. "Keep pushing! Keep it up! Kill them! Kill them all!" Her comrades roared in response, crawling over the twisted debris to join her.
She passed the biggest sister as she unleashed her titanic heavy bolter, chewing holes into the heretics.
"Suffer the Emperor's wrath!" The Sister cried as bullets ricocheted off her armor. The Palatine reached the giant wreck, plunging her chainsword into enemy cover and carving a gap for her Sisters to follow. They made short work of the rest, and a Sister with flame pistols in each hand bellowed a prayer as she marched forward. The wreck was soon a pillar of flame, each inch bellowing smoke and covered in smoldering promethium.
The Woadians followed, putting the wailing, charred, half-people out of their misery. Yang joined the spearhead, coming up behind the Palatine.
"And so it came to pass that the Emperor slew them all," she said, her vox-casters vibrating as they flung her voice across the battlefield. "And they knew His Glory, His Majesty, and they knew Fear!" Her colossal chainsword roared, grinding a heretic into red sludge.
Batting away the flickering flames, Yang emerged on the other side of the wreck where a grim sight awaited her. Enemy reinforcements. There were hundreds, brown beetles that swarmed up the hill to support their fleeing brethren. Her fingers rapped a steady beat against the hilt of her sword.
Yang stepped forward, catching the Palatine's pauldron. The Sister whipped around mid-speech, face creased, scowling, and blood-spattered.
"How dare you," she bellowed, staring down at Yang with unfiltered annoyance. "There are heretics afoot, you cannot-"
"Shut up," Yang said, pushing the woman behind her. "Go watch the flanks." Her face lit up, so red, it was as if it burst into flames. She hoisted her sword and screamed a reply but Yang was already walking away. She smiled. This is where I shine. It's my turn, she thought, eyeing the swarm of baddies. This is going to be fun.
At the apex of the hill, she slammed the standard into a tangled mess of rebar, standing it proudly amidst the wreckage. Pumping aura into her throat, she bellowed at the top of her lungs.
"Here I stand," she called, beckoning the heretics forward with her sword. Her words echoed down the hill, ringing against the sheet metal and pipework. "Come get me!" They shrieked in defiance, funneling themselves towards the golden woman with the fluttering banner. Behind her, the Woadians spread out to receive the counter-attack. "I challenge you all… try and take me down!"
A burning ache boiled in her heart, her aura threatening to spill over into each crevice of her being, consume her in ghost flame. No… not yet. Watching Mael send a screaming rocket into the crowd, she took a deep breath. I hope Caolin's alright. Right now, it was time to protect her friends.
"Watch the sides!" She reminded her allies, gesturing away from the counter-attack. Ember Celica hissed and clacked as it unfolded, eager for duty. They were closer now, weathering the onslaught of fire. The Palatine was still screaming something at her, but she had no idea what it was. As long as she doesn't interfere. The heretics were close enough to reach her nostrils. They stank of blood and sweat, of ozone and cordite. Glancing at Weiss, she threw her friend a small wink.
"Let's DO THIS!" She cried, stepping forward. They flung small-arms fire at her, but nothing scratched her. Diving forward, she met the first man with a left hook, crushing his face into splinters. Spinning, her sword cleaved three of them in half.
They swarmed her with bayonets and rusted knives, each one cut down like the ones before them. She hacked and spun, throwing the heretics around like toys. A huge man barreled towards her, massive shotgun in hand. Her sword flashed, sailing through the air and landing in his heart. Ember Celica took over as she pushed forward, the gauntlets spitting death as they tore her enemies apart. They strained to get past her, strike down the banner, but none of them could. Ducking under a burst of gunfire, she leapt into the air, retrieving her sword before burying it into the flank of another. She stepped back, drawing more towards her.
"C'mon, more, more!" A brace of pellets slammed into her, howling as they tore through her tunic and whickered off her skin. "Wrong move, buddy!" She cried. Her sword descended, a beacon of blue amidst a sea of brown. A bayonet soared forward, but she beat it aside with her fist, spinning to stick her sword in its owner's back. Ripping it free, she slammed it down on another, splitting him in two. Another pushed the halves of his friend aside, desperate to kill her. Ember Celica connected with his chest, crushing it and sending him flying over the heads of his comrades.
Blades by the dozen came at her, each borne by a snarling cultist. Cutting one down, she picked the other up by his coat, hurling him into his friend. Ember Celica belched, chewing them both into pulp. A man stabbed her in the chest, the blade scraping off her armor and sliding between her arm. Pinning it, she blasted him in the face with a shell. Or… she would have, if it didn't click empty.
Roaring wordlessly, She hurled a brace of shells into the air before shoving her sword through her immobile opponent. He spat blood, sliding off and tumbling down the hill. Bounding upwards, she caught the shells mid-flight, locking them into Ember Celica.
"Not enough!" Her fist connected with a heretic, smashing him into a pulp before slamming into the earth. Six of them fell away, screaming at shards of metal and pellets that coated them. One leapt on her back, trying to jam a knife into her neck. Her free hand pulled him off, and she stuttered backwards as she prepared a throw. With a cry, she hurled him down, straight into the swords of his friends. Thrown by the weight of the dead man, they capsized, knocked over like bowling pins.
Easy targets for her comrades.
"Die, corpse-worshiper!" One cried, bringing a chainsword around. It was child's play to duck under the blow. Yang sprung up from her dodge, her fist soaring up to catch him under his jaw. His head burst apart in a flash of cordite and brains, scattering over his friends.
And on the faces of those that did not wear gas masks, Yang saw fear. She smiled.
One tried to flank her, but she caught his head in her hand, casting it into the ground with lethal force. His neck snapped and he too rolled down the hill. A lasgun raised to drown her in bolts, but Yang was too fast. He died, split in half by her sword.
"Anybody else?" She cried to the rest of them, daring them forward, wishing them forward. "It's just lil' ol' me!" They spat and snarled, edging closer at her words. "You!" She said, pointing at the biggest one. He stepped forward, unable to deny her challenge. He raised his autogun, but Ember Celica was already passing through his ribcage. She let him fall, ignoring the feather-touch of his hands as they pushed against her arm. Wheeling forward, she slammed her power sword into the ground, kicking up a storm of rust and burnt offal. The man fell off her arm, shrieking at the hole in his chest.
"Go on!" They stepped away from her. Almost forty corpses stood at her feet, a circle of broken bodies. Even more lay crippled and screaming in pain, their limbs torn away from them. "RUN, YOU COWARDS!" They obeyed, throwing their guns down as they fled down the hill. Yang's heart swelled, and laughter bubbled out from her lips. Seizing the standard, she hoisted it as high as she could.
"WOA-DI-A! WOA-DI-A!" Her comrades took up her cry, scything down the heretics with murderous crossfires. The Sisters aided them, bolters and flames sweeping over their backs. All along the hill, the cultists broke and run, following their fleeing friends. A total route.
A few farther behind tried returning fire, but the press of lasbolts kept their heads down. Yang spun around to face her friends, banner raised high. Most were too busy fighting, but she earned a few shouts of solidarity, the Woadian's fists raised in victory.
However, the Palatine was absolutely furious, stomping towards her with abandon.
"That's how it's done Sister," she said, grinning at the older woman. "Didn't need any fancy armor to do it, either." Does aura count? Eh, whatever. Her grin didn't last long, as it was soon introduced to the Palatine's fist.
A/N: Uh-oh. Looks like Yang's friend-making attempts are rather hit-or-miss. Also, the battle isn't taking place IN all the city/forge stuff because I wanted to try something a little different. Not all Forgeworlds are 100% covered in city!
Oh, and give 'Caffeine' a listen while Yang's doing her thing. Promise it won't disappoint. :)
I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Please, drop a review and let me know what you thought! :D
Review Replies:
The Walrus of Eden: Hope you enjoyed! Skitarii aren't here just yet, but they will be. Oh, they will be.
snoogenz: Right? Why should universes get in the way of such excellent trolling?
Redcollecter: Hope the battle satisfied!
Ctornello: Thank you! This is the biggest fight they'll have for a while!
Antonio92: All in good time, my friend!
Nemris: Oh wow, you've flattered me and peaked my curiosity at the same time! Thank you so much for all the support you've given me over the months, and I can't wait to see what's in store!
Kiyoushu: And this chapter was full of it! Hope you enjoyed it!
Parks98: RIGHT? Episode 2 was really good as well. Hopefully they keep up the kick-ass pace. :)
OBSERVER01: Weiss has learned how to do intimidating really well... hope you liked the chapter!
Bassmallet: 1. He stated his given reasons in chapter 34, 2. Nope! 3. He's about 6'3" and broad-shouldered, so I'd say so! 4. He doesn't really have a 'plan', so to speak, and he wouldn't know about 'getting caught' since he doesn't know about the Lady Inquisitors constant mental scanning. Hope that helped!
Gafgar: ... Point!
Mintskittle: Thanks for all your feedback! I really appreciate it! I always love hearing from you, and your reviews always make my day better. As for your thoughts on the chapter, the Inquisitor didn't tell Amat explicitly to speak with her, just she was glad that he has a little more insight to her character. But I will admit, it was an oversight on her part, one that was included very much on purpose! haha
ATP: Good ideas! Unfortunately, Paladins and Knights are already less advanced than most of the Tau's walker arsenal. As for the Eldar, they don't really focus on mechanized warfare. They might like the idea of using a horde of mechanical knights as a distraction or diversion, but not only do the craftworlds lack the production cababilities, but their warfare is focused on hit&run tactics!
Thanks again to everyone who reviewed!