Disclaimer: I do not own warhammer or anything related to the universe.
He watched them as they slowly trudged up the hill, licking their wounds no cradling their wounded. The Salamanders were a sticky legion. Forged in flames and built for combat like them. He looked upon many of their helmless faces. Though bloodied they still smiled and cheered as they approached them. Glad their "comrades" would relinquish them of their combat duties so that they had time to heal and recover for the second assault.
The Warriors of the IV legion would be their saviors. He smirked at the thought. A warrior, near the head of the battered battle group looked at him, raising his fist in salute. He did not reciprocate the gesture. He simply stared. A signal on his vox notified him of his next move. All alongside him Iron Warriors leveled their bolt guns, aiming down at the approaching group. Tanks readied their cannons, marking targets. The warrior who had just saluted him noticed first alongside his Primarch.
As he went to issue a word of warning was the same time he squeezed the trigger of his boltgun and fired. Ranks of Salamanders were gunned down by their barrage. Too injured to retaliate and caught essentially off guard they were slaughtered. Many of them, the ones who had been at the back of the formation,attempting a sort of counter attack. Bolt rounds struck many of his brothers. Some lucky Salamanders even managed to get in range to shoot off plumes of their Flamers, but they, like the rest, died too.
Across the fields of Isstvan V the scenario was the same. All the legions of the second Wave were firing upon loyalists that comprised the first wave attack force.
Unbeknown to them the second wave had long since sworn allegiance to the war master and his cause.
They had fully eliminated dissent within their ranks stopping any chance of the loyalist catching wind of their plans. This campaign was not one to eliminate the so called traitors of the Imperial Cause. It was one instead aimed at destroying the loyalist that still clung to the lies of the Man-Emperor. They were to eliminate the main bulk of the loyalist fighting force and more than halve their battle power.
These three legions even if some did manage to survive the slaughter would never be able to contribute fully to the war effort. He relished in the thoughts of the death they would inflict on the other legions. Especially the Imperial Fist. Their most hated rivals and the target of all their hate. The suffering currently being inflicted upon these poor fools was trivial in comparison to that which they would inflict upon the sons of Dorn. His thoughts were interrupted as his Boltgun clipped empty. He had ran through the entire magazine already. He could see that the sight was similar among the lines. Ejecting the magazine he went to slam in a fresh clip to continue the slaughter. The boom of tank cannon and hiss of plasma weaponry let him know that many still fired on.
Across the ranks a plethora of lobotomized servitors alongside the turrets of the legion still fired upon the green mass of Astartes. He also saw at the lead his Primarch Perturabo looking down upon the battle. Silent and emotionless. He did detect a small facial shift as he locked eyes with his Brother Primarch Vulkan. The Lord of Drakes was spitting curses at his lord. The intensity brought rage to his heart. He would have slain him himself if he was capable. Instead he would take his rage out on his sons.
His last sight of the Lord of Drakes was his figure being consumed in a flaming haze. He grinned even a Primarch would be deeply wounded by such a blast at close range. He aimed down at the Salamanders. He saw many still discombobulated front the assault staggering around the battlefield, falling over the bodies of their fallen. He took aim at one dragging a wounded brother across the blood stain dirt. The warrior was missing his lower half but seemingly still lived.
He gave it to them. These salamanders were hard to kill. He fired off a single bolt round, the wounded warrior's head exploding in a bloody mist. Even from this distance he heard it. The Salamander dragging him let out a howl of pure agony. He was broken. Satisfied with his work he let loose another shot to kill the saddened warrior as he looked on towards him. He found his next mark in the form of a warrior staggering through the battlefield. His armor was a broken mess. He was missing his right arm and a good chunk of his head.. He clenched tightly to a chain sword as he walked towards the Iron Warrior lines. Taking aim once more he fired again causing the warrior to drop to his knees. Another shot had the warriors body slump to the ground. Dead.
By now it seemed the receding wave of green had been intermixed with specks of black. The Raven Guard had been routed and the survivors had found their way into his path as well. Once more he went to pick out his new targets. His first came in the form of a Raven Guard supporting a wounded brother. He first killed the one providing the support, firing three rounds into his back. Both warriors fell. The other crawled out, reaching to his now deceased brother. A round pierced the side of his head ending him. With that shot once more his magazine ran empty.
He ejected yet another spent clip and slammed in a fresh magazine. He then took aim at a warrior attempting to rally his companions. A captain probably. A round through the heart silenced him and served to shatter his company the heroes of other legions. He was enjoying himself now. Killing the wounded and dying. He could make this into a sort of game. A sport to be played between himself and his brothers. He was certain that they would have plenty of targets to pick from.
He knew that not all the bodies that lay in the fields now were dead. Some probably played the part in hopes of being passed over so they could escape later or many had gone into comas to cope with the grievous injuries they sustained. Either way none would escape their wrath. Iron Within. Iron without.
Another tale of betrayal. More bonds broken. If you guys have any ideas or character ideas send them to me. Farewell!