The Guns of Spinel VII: A Warhammer 40,000 Fan Story
By Lord Derpathon
Davian looked up to the skies of Spinel VII, clenching his teeth despite the sunlight sky of the planet. Davian never really stood out from his comrades, just another guardsman in some far off front. Command ordered all to be on high alert and that Hive Secondus, their garrison, was to be evacuated after an extensive draft to the Planetary Defense Force. It was a dismal place, in dire need of repair with rebar littering the streets even before the evacuation. While Davian had been a private in the Imperial guard for well over two years, he still sat at the edge of his seat near the vox station.
They stationed Davian in Hydra nest twenty one, one of many flak batteries installed around the city. There were four Hydra auto-cannon emplacements in his zone; two installed in old towers with urban camouflage nets. The others were out in the open with barricades and bunkers, and while Davian had his earmuffs at the ready, the noise did not scare him. The rumors of what was coming did.
"Nest twenty one, do you read over," a voice over the vox said.
"Copy command, we read you," Davian responded.
"Auspex reports hostiles entering system. ETA two hours. We're sending additional chimera support to your sector and a Commissar. Your orders are to dig in. Set traps and mark them to supporting squads. Nothing is to breach nests ten through fifty. Over."
"Copy that command, over." Davian switched off the vox and shook a little before standing up. We're done for. This whole damn planet is as good as dead, he thought as he stepped outside the safety of his bunker.
The rest of the squads stationed in nest twenty one were running maintenance drills on the Hydra stations. They only had two tech-priests among them, who chanted in binary while swinging around rank censers that reeked of oil. Davian cleared his throat before giving them all the bad news.
"Orders came in. Dig in. Hostiles expected in two hours." The squadrons, save for the tech-priests, froze.
"Oh shite, today's the day," said one draftee. A freckled faced youth at the cusp of adulthood he conveyed what everybody else there felt, even if they hid it.
"Shut it Harry, we dig in right and if the Emperor is willing, we'll live long enough to see you wipe that stupid white stripe off your helmet." Sargent Barnes stepped forth with medals on his flak armor and a weathered cap. The grizzled veteran picked up a spade and slung it over his shoulder. A tide of relief sprung spring from the guardsmen at the sight of him.
"All right, troops. Get digging. I want ablative armor on the bunkers and mantlets covering our guns. Molly, Pritchard, take your squads and set some traps around our perimeter. Mines if possible, sharpened debris in a ditch if you have to. And for Saint Macharius' sake, call them in to Davian so none of our lads will bump into them. Get to it!" The squads followed Barne's call swiftly, carrying what bales of barbed wire and any other supplies that could be useful.
"Davian get over here," the Sargent said. Davian followed him into the vox bunker.
"You need something Sargent?" He stood at attention.
"How buggered are we? Don't give me any half answers or other bollocks. We've got enough on our plate today."
"They've entered the system. Two hours before planetfall. Command wouldn't say whose coming." Davian swallowed. Sargent Barnes growled under his breath.
"It's the traitors." Barnes took an Lho-stick from his pocket and gave it a puff. Beads of sweat dripped down his brow as he took off his cap and wiped his forehead.
"How can you be sure? It could be xenos-"
"Command likes to keep hush about traitors. If it were the orks, they'd have said it. They don't want our friends in the PDF to start a rout, that'd put an end to our occupation now, wouldn't it."
"Y-yes, sir. And what about the Commissar?"
"Comply with him. Don't want trouble coming from our own force."
"Can we count on air support or ordinance?" Davian lightened up at the thought of it.
"Maybe, but don't get your hopes up. The battle group up above will focus on their fleet. We've got to hold on to this miserable pile of scrap, while the rest of the regiment moves to counterattack. So not likely."
"Piss." Davian kicked the dirt floor in front of him. "Have any more Ihos on you Sarge?"
"Cheeky bastard." Barnes threw him a stick. It was a small translucent cylinder with an indigo glow to it. Davian caught it quick before lighting it.
"Other squad Sergeants are gonna ration theirs out. But that's a special one."
Davian took a puff and gagged a bit. The narcotic kicked in rather quickly, and he felt much calmer. He exhaled, blowing out the smoke.
"Thanks, Sarge. I don't know what we'd do without you."
"Don't thank me just yet." Sargent Barnes hoisted his shovel. "I'm gonna need you to rely positions while I go dig some bloody holes. Lots of busy work ahead mate."
Davian gave a quick salute as Sargent Barnes left. He spent the next few minutes scribbling trap zones on his map and relaying them to the squads. They didn't have data slates on them, only the Tech-Priests held such gear. In mere moments, Davian heard the rolling treads of their chimera reinforcements. There were two transports, one with an auto-cannon mounted in its turret, while the other was a standard pattern with a multi-las. He looked outside as guardsmen disembarked from their transports. They were seasoned, no White Shields among their number, and a Commissar led them. He was the spitting image of every Commissar on recruitment posters, a hand tucked in his greatcoat while his other gripped a power sword.
"Who is in charge of this command post," he said briskly.
"I am." Sargent Barnes stepped forward to meet him. "Sargent Johnathan Barnes, tenth Spinel System Guard regiment. And you are?"
"Abraham Eschmann, your new head officer." The Commissar walked past him. "I trust you've made the necessary preparations for the defense?"
"We're working on whatever we can right now." Barnes moved to keep up with him. "We already have ablative armor, traps and bunkers set up for-"
"Good. And now you dig in. They're almost upon us." The Commissar stopped before one of their batteries. "Bring your men forth immediately."
"Understood." Barnes reached for his earpiece. "All squads get to nest one. If you can't then Davian will patch you through via the vox."
The squadrons converged. Out of the Spinel System Guard there were twenty-five, including Barnes and Devian. Another twenty of them were White Shields. The men who came from Commissar Eschmann's force were clearly off world; their colors differed because of their grey and green color pattern. Many of them held Aquila badges on their armor, with purity seals adorning their lasguns. Commissar Eschmann stepped atop a barrier of supply crates facing the troops. Davian was in the background trying to filter off static from the vox so the company could hear.
"Men and women of the Astra Militarum, the Imperial Guard ordained by our liege, the god emperor of man. We face a truly vile force this day. The traitorous hordes of the Despoiler have poured forth from the Eye of Terror, and now they seek to gain ground here on Spinel VII. Many of you hail from this world, many more from the system, so this gives us an advantage that the heretics lack. We shall harry the invaders the very moment they enter our atmosphere, should they set foot on the ground, then they will regret it! They shall know why we are the Hammer of the Emperor!
"These traitors bring with them many horrors: the damned and lost, infernal engines of war not blessed by the Adeptus Mechanicus, and worst of all those traitor Astartes who dare show themselves after betraying our glorious emperor! These things are not human, nay! They are less that human, they are scum that would abandon their species and see all that the Emperor has forged destroyed. We have a duty to the Imperium, to the God Emperor himself, to purge them all! For every heretic you kill this day, not only do you give praise unto the master of mankind, but you will ensure the safety of your home system! In his name we shall cull the unholy armies before us and send them to the graves they so rightly deserve. For the Imperium! For the Emperor!"
Commissar Eschmann drew his power sword, revealing a bionic arm from his greatcoat. The guardsmen cheered and joined in with him. Sargent Barnes smiled in approval as the White Shields felt a relieved despite their situation. Yet Davian felt nothing. He should feel elated that that they were doing the Emperor's will, but something stopped him. Was it doubt? He joined in, if only to blend into his squadron.
Blessed is the mind too small for doubt. Blessed are those who follow their orders. Blessed is the Guardsman who faces down his foe and gives his life for Emperor and Imperium, he thought. Before heading back to his bunker, the Commissar approached him.
"Something you need, sir?" Davian stood at attention.
"Yes. I need you to copy any maps and other tactical information to my data-slate guardsman." The Commissar handed him the device before heading off with his men.
"Yes, sir. It will be done." Davian hurried off to do his work. It was busywork to copy down the notes, but easily managed. It worried him he might fall behind pointing out the other zones to his superiors. He checked out a little as he filed report after report, even ignoring that Commissar Abraham Eschmann had entered his bunker. He nearly jumped at the sight of him as he turned around.
"Forgive me, sir. Your Data-slate has been updated. I just had to rely on other zones to command in order to-"
"You have my thanks, but you will face some demerits for your tardiness. Laxity is no excuse in the face of our enemy." The Commissar stormed out, shutting the door behind him. For a moment, Davian felt his fist clench before he saw it.
Banish any and all impure thoughts from your mind. The Commissar is always right. His word is law. You must give yourself to the fullest to your orders. Yes. I am at fault; he thought as he continued his work. Nearly an hour passed, and the vox buzzed.
"Enemy forces have arrived in upper atmosphere. All units at high alert!" The vox said. Davian gulped and hit a switch for the sirens. The sirens blared and the guardsmen across their zone rushed into formation. Davian himself readied his las-carbine, a custom sight attached after a previous encounter with ork pirates. He primed the power pack and fixed his bayonet.
"Oi, Davian. Look outside and get those damn earmuffs on." Sargent Barnes' voice broke through the sirens via the vox. Davian shoved in his earplugs before looking out of his bunker. A great shadow appeared over the sun. Darkness covered the hive city as a massive ship overtook it, making an artificial eclipse for a moment.
"By the throne," Davian said. "They've a damned space hulk!"
"Yeah," Barnes said. "Shame about that. The heretics have spoiled our view. Looks like we have to teach those bastards a lesson. Keep us posted for enemy deployments, would ya?"
"Affirmative." Davian changed the line before he saw dozens of tiny specks appear in the sky.
Sargent Barnes stood near his Hydra platform as he saw the heretics descend upon them. Commissar Eschmann stood nearby as he scowled.
"Light them up as soon as they enter range. I'll not have the skies blighted by their presence," The Commissar said.
"You heard the man, open fire!" The Hydra roared as auto-cannon rounds filled the sky. Across their sector, the buzz of anti-air fire filled the hive as the traitors flew towards them. The gunner close to Barnes gritted her teeth as she pulled the trigger, her co-gunner rotating the turret to where fire was most needed. Her barrage pierced a traitor Valkyrie, which erupted in flames and exploded in a shower of scrap, and soon turned her attention to a Lander. Others had knocked down other Landers and gunships; the hammer of the Emperor reaped a bloody toll among the heretics who tried to make planetfall.
"That's right, you traitors! For the Emperor!" the gunner cheered. "Shatter the sky!"
Yet as they kept pouring the fire on, they heard a roar come from above. A daemon engine that looked like a dragon soared towards them.
"Daemon engine! All squads take it down. Priority target spotted!" Barnes shouted. His gunner turned her sights towards it, auto-cannon rounds piercing its wings. The thing screamed in agony, but with a second roar it fired a salvo of shells their way.
"Incoming!" The Commissar yelled. Large infernal rounds punctured the surrounding ground, and shrapnel hit the co-gunner in his side. He screamed out, spitting out blood and crying in agony.
"Medic! Get the damn medic over here now! And get somebody on that gun now!" Barnes shouted. The Commissar ran up to the weapon battery and into the vacant seat, allowing the gun to continue its holy work. The weapon aimed true and eviscerated the flying daemon engine in a hail of flak. However, to their dismay a traitor lander crashed into the Hive, close to their location as it plowed through buildings creating a massive cloud of dust.
"Scarves and masks up! Now!" Barnes strapped on gasmask and his fellows did the same. The Commissar was unlucky as he got a face full of debris dust, spitting and coughing before he pulled up his greatcoat. The enemy had landed despite their losses, traitorous guardsmen and renegades spilled out of their transport like a foul tide.
"All hands get to the first defensive line! That includes you, Davian!" Barnes shouted over the vox. He readied his shotgun, ready to do the Emperor's work as he ran out with his squadrons.
Davian attached his portable vox across his back and ran out to join the others. His heart was pounding as the surrounding guns fired into the sky, the surrounding air chocked with ash and debris. The White Shields rushed alongside the regulars. They needed everybody to hold the line. Davian linked up with Sargent Barnes as they jumped into a trench. Before them were a few layers of hidden traps, mines, and barricades around the urban cityscape. The way to the trench was bottlenecked by debris, with other paths being kill zones for guardsmen in buildings and for good measure the multi-las chimera had pulled up behind them, spooling its gun as a few guardsmen entered the sides to ready the firing ports.
"Glad to see you've arrived, Davian. We need all the hands we can get now." The Sargent sat behind the dirt wall of the trench.
"Just doing my duty, sir. Besides, it was getting awfully stuffy in that bunker, anyway." Davian gave a nervous laugh as he readied his carbine. He looked down at the crashed lander before them. Good news was its guns were out. Bad news: a large troop contingent was spared from the crash and while some ran on other positions, a good number were heading his way. And they wore Imperial Guard equipment, desiccated with the eight-pointed star of chaos and painted black and gold.
"I'd say I'm thankful for brown uniform pants, but that'd be heresy," Davian said. Barnes let loose a chuckle.
"Shite man. You always pick the worst time possible for your humor. Now shove a sock in your mouth. Let's go kill us some traitors."
"For the Warmaster! For the ruinous powers! Charge!" a herald at the head of the Chaos column shouted. His fellows yelled out as they trudged forth through the debris. Blasphemous banners and the buzzing of chain weapons could be heard from their ranks. The lost and the damned marched forth, laying down suppressing fire with their lasguns at the trenches.
"Keep to cover, wait until they get in range!" Sargent Barnes yelled. The heretics marched on. Some of their force split off, seeking to move around into the other alleys in an attempt to flank. However, two of them stepped on a camo tarp leading into a crude stake pit trap, rebar spears pierced their bodies. Others set off mines, turning ranks of traitors into red mist, forcing them into the bottleneck. Despite their losses they still advanced, well into the range of the guardsmen.
"Fire at will!" Commissar Eschmann had joined the ranks at the trench. Las fire poured from the trenches and the chimera joined in. Rapid rounds pierced the ranks of the traitors, forcing them into cover. Some of them threw up smoke grenades to cover their advance, yet it seemed in vain as the chimera kept pouring on fire. Davian heard the all too familiar shriek of a mortar approach the trench, landing just outside his position.
"Oh, shite!" He shouted as mud splattered across his face. He spat some out while firing potshots at the traitor ranks. More shells rained down upon them; worse still, a section of the guard caught a direct hit, red mist sprayed the Spinel System Guard.
"Can you get a shot at the mortar?" Sargent Barnes said.
"Not with all this smoke from here," Davian replied. "Maybe if I creep into a building I-"
"Do it now! Take out that son of a bitch or we're all dead." Davian rushed through the trench and crept towards an empty building. A las bolt zipped past his head as he reflexively winced. Crawling on all fours through the filth and detritus, he found his opening, an exposed stairwell into a now devastated hive hub complex. After two grueling minutes, he reached it and promptly jogged up the stairwell.
He came to a ruined window about two storeys above the surface and caught a good glimpse of the battlefield. Most of the traitor guard fighting near the trench were hidden behind their smokescreen, but it also hid Davian from them. The back line to the traitors was exposed, and Davian caught a quick peek at the mortar team. The Emperor smiled on him today; there was only one battery among them. Rather than take time to hit the team Davian primed his carbine for a quick burst and aimed at their ammo cache. If hit properly he could set it all off. Davian wiped grime and sweat away from his brow, exhaled than aimed.
His burst hit its mark; the ammunition went up in flames, carving a sizable crater into the hive. Nothing was left but debris and limbs littering the position. Davian immediately dove backwards on his side as a hail of las fire ricocheted near his previous position. He hyperventilated for a bit before slapping himself across the face.
"Too damn close, that's for sure," he muttered before a grenade flew through the window. He sprinted immediately towards the stair before it went off; taking a good chuck of the building as the force sent him tumbling down the stairwell. He groaned before standing up, checking his vox to see if it was broken. It had a few dents and bruises but seemed fine.
"This is private Davian to Sargent Barnes. Enemy artillery neutralized," he said.
"Thank the Emperor. Head back down." Barnes said.
As Davian ran down the stairwell, he caught outside the window. As he went prone, a missile streaked ahead and landed into the chimera turret. The turret was a charred mess and bloody howl erupted from the enemy line. A traitor Astartes emerged from their ranks, a massive warrior in black and gold armor holding aloft a missile launcher. Yet unlike most of his brethren, one shoulder pad was bleached white and green with a skull painted upon it. A single spike was set atop his helmet as he raised his free hand up and bellowed a fearsome war cry.
"Forward! Tear the loyalists apart!" He bellowed. The lost and the damned emerged from their cover and showered the trench in las fire. The revving of chainswords echoed in their ranks as others showered the trench with bullets from their auto pistols.
"Fix bayonets! We must hold the line here!" Commissar Eschmann said. One of the younger White Shields, Harry, panicked and ran out of the trench.
"You will hold the line or you shall die!" Eschmann promptly put a bolt round in the poor boy's back, splitting him apart. Davian winced at the sight of it, prompting him to dive behind the cover of his building. The traitors made contact with the guardsmen in the trench, erupting into a bloody melee. Mutated foes tore asunder flak armor, screaming curses against the God Emperor and all his subjects.
"Davian, can you get us some support fire! We're being overrun," Sargent Barnes shouted over the vox.
"Yes, sir." Davian aimed down his sights and took shots at his enemies. But they overcame the trench like a tide, even if he killed a few they could be easily replaced. The chaos marine fired another missile into their chimera, blowing the top off as a hole burst in the armor. A screaming guardsman emerged from the wreckage aflame, scorched beyond recognition, desperate to put out the flames only for Sargent Barnes to fire a las pistol shot into his head.
At least his death was quick, Davian thought as he swapped his charge pack. From where he saw things the line couldn't be held, lest they all get torn apart by the heretics.
"Davian, this is Sargent Barnes, contact HQ immediately. We need reinforcements!" the Sargent said. Davian dove behind the stairwell before calling command.
"This is vox operation Davian of the Spinel System Guard, tenth regiment, of Hydra nest twenty-one. We're overrun. Requesting reinforcements. I repeat, we need reinforcements ASAP." Davian enunciated his words because of the background noise. A few seconds later, the vox responded.
"This is Colonel Darius Bainbridge, I read you. Astartes reinforcements are en route to your position. Fall back to Hydra emplacements; they are your number one priority. Over."
"Understood sir. Over and out." Davian switched channels as a las bolt whizzed by his location. He felt far more hopeful knowing the Emperor's angels of death were on their way.
"Sargent, command wants us to fall back to the guns. Reinforcements inbound. The space marines are on their way!" he said.
"What?! Are you pulling my damn leg private?"
"Dead serious. The colonel himself said so."
"Alright, I'll tell the Commissar and call the other chimera for suppressing fire. Regroup with the squad as soon as-"the broadcast was cut off as a las round punctured the vox pack. Davian dove behind a ruined counter top, glimpsing briefly his assailant. It was a traitor guardsman. He was equipped with a lasgun and flak armor. His left arm was a mass of writhing tendrils, and he wore the black and gold colors of his warband. He snarled behind a crude, bulky re-breather mask, yellow eyes fixed on his position.
Davian tried to look at his enemy, only for another bolt to graze his helmet. He took a grenade from his belt, pulled the pin, and counted to three. Throwing the grenade back into the main room, he heard a satisfying boom echo behind the safety of his countertop. Davian gave a quick look out from his hiding place; his opponent was nothing more than a red smear.
"Blood for the Blood God! Skulls for the skull throne!" another heretic screamed out, brandishing a chainsword from the entrance. Davian tried to fire a round at him, but the chainblade struck against his lasgun, cutting clean through the weapon. Davian sprinted out the room, the heretic guardsman close behind him. Yet as Davian ran outside, the chimera with the auto-cannon drove up to the battle line. It fired a round into the traitor's ranks; the gun ports on its sides unleashed a salvo against Davian's pursuer, the traitor tumbled into the trench as holes burned through his armor.
"Fall back! Get in the chimera now!" The Commissar yelled. His white armored guardsmen poured out of the chimera's rear door and laid down covering fire. The Chaos Space marine emerged from cover with his rocket launcher at the ready and fired off a round. It buckled the side of the transport, shattering the firing ports for any friend guardsman to use, but it did not penetrate the armor. Davian and his fellows sprinted in as the turret fired back at the marine who was thrown down into the mud. Davian did not pause to see if he perished, hyperventilating while his fellows scrambled to get inside. Once at capacity the chimera drove off, firing several rounds behind at any would be pursuers.
"How many did we lose?" Sargent Barnes said.
The Commissar ordered a quick head count.
"About two-thirds of our force," he replied.
"Shite. We're all that's left. We have to repurpose some anti-air to-"
"Absolutely not!" The Commissar stood. "If these guns waver for even a second than this entire sector, let alone the hive, is lost. We must do this without their support and hold until Astartes reinforcements arrive."
"Understood." Barnes sat down and cleaned off his shotgun.
Davian peeked outside the window. He saw fewer flak fire coming from the hive and a pit formed in his stomach. Traitor ships could be seen entering the atmosphere, the surrounding skies darkened as artificial clouds blacked the world. Nothing seemed to stop their advance; the city may as well be theirs at this rate.
"Commissar, you'll want to look at this," Davian said.
"Than our duty is even more apparent." The Commissar shut the window port in front of Davian. "We must hold. Not for our sakes but for that of the entire planet, lest we lose this world to the arch enemy."
The Commissar is always right. The Commissar is… a damned fool for trying to get us all killed, Davian thought. His eyelid twitched as he pulled out an Iho stick.
"Trooper, now is not the time!" The Commissar slapped the stick out of Davian's hand.
"Sir, I-"
"Be grateful that I have need of your skills. Else I would have that hand removed. Assuming you survive this battle." The Commissar folded his arms.
The chimera reached its destination, yet everything went to hell. Davian saw they had hit the munitions cache; turns out the mortars weren't only aimed at them. The guns still fired on, but everybody in the area was living on borrowed time as more traitors arrived in atmosphere. This city was as good as lost; the guns wouldn't make a damn difference now at this rate. And yet they still fired off into the skies, trying to take as many heretics with them. Even though a horde of foes came at them, numerous as raindrops in a hurricane, the guard still pressed on with their duty.
A building suddenly collapsed nearby, Davian saw the auto-cannon of the chimera blasting sections into buildings, creating roadblocks of already damaged buildings.
"Disembark!" the Commissar drew his blade as the survivors ran outside the back. The guardsmen filed out of the chimera, lasguns at the ready. Davian's own boots muddied the ground as he ran into the command bunker, desperately unfurling the maps and grabbing a new lasgun off the wall. He called in back to headquarters but only heard load static.
"Commissar, Sargent Barnes, they've disabled the comms!" he said. "Nothing but static!"
"Try a different channel, by the Emperor, somebody has to be out there." The Commissar rushed in and switched through several frequencies. Most were static, but one played a message.
"This is Dehrghast Xiarion, master of beasts and lord of the Black Legion! Your world is overrun, as is your garrison! Surrender and you shall be treated fairly in defeat, cull your leaders and it will be all the swifter before we-"The Commissar switched off the relay.
"The damned traitor thinks he can usurp our army! The bastard! Dig in men; this shall be our last stand." As the Commissar walked back outside Davian puffed his last Iho stick once he was out of eyesight. It gave a calming rush at first, but dread still settled in. Either way, the system guard was doomed. It just depended on going down in a blaze of glory or becoming part of the very foe they've been fighting against. Davian shuddered to think about either option. Worse still, he could think of no prayer to the Emperor now, even in his time of need. He just flickered through vox channels, desperately hoping to hear something, anything, about supposed Astartes in system. Then he heard a loud thud as dust poured in through the bunker's entrance.
After coughing up a storm and wiping the grit off his face, Davian saw them. The Emperor's angels of death. At first they were shades emerging from the dust of their drop pod until the wind scattered the dust and revealed them. Colored in light blue power armor bearing a large trident sigil on the shoulder pads stood ten of them, one with a white plumed helmet.
"Th.. thank the Emperor." Davian's eyes teared up. He nearly fell to his knees before one of them, the sergeant with his white helm, caught him.
"The Emperor protects all his kin. Even you guardsman. Where is your commanding officer?" the Astartes Sergeant straightened up poor Davian and handed him a handkerchief of all things.
"That would be me, my lord. Commissar Abraham Eschmann at your service, of the Spinel chapel guard. Sargent Barnes of the system guard is my second here." The Commissar saluted quickly.
"Dispense with the formalities Commissar, we need those guns active if we are to evacuate this hive center. How fare your munition stores?"
"Running on fumes, sir. This is all that's left. We downed a lander and a score of aircraft, though." Sargent Barnes brushed off the dust on his face as he hefted his shotgun over his shoulder.
"Prepare yourself, then. The foe is upon us. Brothers, the codex demands we take a defensive position, but two of you should clear a path to the cistern tunnels for our escape. Everyone else, get ready and may the Emperor keep you!" The sergeant ignited a power axe and brandished a plasma pistol, and the guardsmen cheered on their new saviors.
The traitors came swiftly, the throng of damned souls holding aloft banners of flayed skin or bearing the dread icons of the black legion itself. While their weaponry was crude auto-guns and chainblades their numbers seemed to grow with every step. A leader emerged from their ranks, a renegade dressed like a general with a gasmask under a decorated feathered helmet.
"Noble Astartes, this world is ours! Surrender and-"a bolter shell struck under his arm, splintering flesh and bone. The heretic screamed in pain, desperately clawing at the shell before it detonated, blowing him to bloody ribbons.
"Suffer not the word of the heretic brothers! Fire at will! For the Emperor!" A volley of las-shot and bolts rained down on the heretics. As the lost and damned charged forward, their banners were cut down, and soon mounds of their devastated bodies piled up. Davian gritted his teeth as he fired into their ranks, desperate to survive this hell, yelled as he did his best to aid his fellows. But there were always more heretics to replace the dead, and they drew close to the defenses.
Suddenly one of the hydra emplacements went up in a blaze as the munition cache scattered debris and shrapnel across the defenders. Davian winced as some fragment cut his leg. Luckily enough, nothing vital was hit, and he slumped behind the cover of some sandbags he and his squadron hid behind.
"Damn it all, what just happened?" he said.
"Look up on that ridge. It's that bastard from before!" One of his fellows said. Sure enough, Davian glimpsed the traitor marine in a decaying building, who ducked into cover instantaneously as bolter fire peppered his position.
"That son of a bitch copied me down to the letter." Davian winced as he tied a field dressing around his leg.
"Guardsmen, flush him out of that building!" the Astartes sergeant bellowed. A hail of grenades came from guardsmen on the ground, blasting the supports of the structure. It tumbled down as a cloud of dust and debris covered both sides.
"Lads, fix bayonets! They're coming straight for us!" Barnes shouted. Davian and his fellows did just that, soon after Davian took a swig from his canteen. The whirring drone of chainswords filled the air as the traitors plunged headfirst into their ranks. Yet through the clouds, Davian could see the Astartes carve a path through the heretics. Even with combat knives, they were a potent force in the melee. Their Sergeant was untouchable, a power axe made quick work of anyone who dared enter his range as he carved a crimson path through them.
The traitor guard charged into the ranks of the loyalists, as bayonet met chainblade. Sargent Barnes fires salvo after salvo from his shotgun, but more emerged. Davian himself stabbed a heretic under the chin with his bayonet as blood sprayed all over his face, shoving the body aside before more heretics charged at him and his fellows. But the ground below them trembled as something terrible gave a metallic, blood-curdling roar.
A Mauler Fiend emerged out of the dust, a daemonic engine akin to a metallic hound, and charged headfirst into the guardsmen's ranks. Large whip-like tendrils cut through Davian's fellows in a bloody frenzy; the beast itself glimpsed him and bellowed a fearsome roar. Davian screamed as he covered his ears. His fellows ran at the sight of the beast, desperate to find some escape from the creature. The beast even grabbed an Astartes and pulped his head as tendrils penetrated the power armor and tore him asunder. The lost and damned gave a bloody cheer as the beast joined the fray.
"We've come to raise this world! We've come to kill this day! We've broken from the Eye and the Imperium we shall slay!" they cheered uproariously. The creature howled again, and the traitors carved a swathe through the guardsmen's line. The Chimera fired a round into the beast before driving off, the creature giving chase after prey that could harm it.
"Fall back! Full retreat!" shouted the Astartes sergeant as his fellows laid down covering fire. Bolter shells culled nearby traitor guard and cultists, but merely ricocheted off the beast's hide.
Davian held back a scream from one of his fellows before running back to the bunker. Sargent Barnes gave covering fire to his fellows, blasting traitors before he finally ran out of shells. He drew a chainsword off his belt and desperately fired from a spare laspistol.
"Davian, find the Commissar! We leave nobody behind!" he shouted. Davian nodded as he ran into the bunker. With his lasgun aloft, Davian searched several rooms and paths. His fellows were burning plans, maps, and other data useful to their foe. Poor bastards, that's not gonna stop them. Nothing will at this rate! He thought as he trudged on through.
He finally found the Commissar in the command station. Despite all the burned documents and the like, he was slumped into the corner, his eyes glazed over as he clutched an Aquilla tightly in his mechanical hand.
"By the throne… the daemons of the warp… b-blasted beasts… will feed well today," he whimpered.
"Sir, we are leaving this post. Astartes said so too. Might as well tag along with them," Davian said.
"We can't fall back… not now. The guns must fire if victory is to be ours…" The Commissar looked up at Davian.
"Sir, you can cry in a corner all you like once we escape th-"
"Damn you Davian you cur! Coward! This is your fault! Your ineptitude has killed us all!" The mechanical arm shot out and seized Davian by the neck. The Commissar stood with manic newfound energy.
"Sir.. I-"
"Silence! I don't want to hear any more of your constant whining, you useless shitstain of a guardsman. I should kill you here and now for your weakness." The Commissar's expression darkened as he glared at Davian. Davian struggled to breathe, not resisting, yet still in the vice of his superior. Yet as this happened he heard the heavy trudging of metallic footsteps coming from the hall.
"Sir, the space marines… ack. They have a plan… to help us." Davian struggled to speak. The footsteps grew louder until he heard them stop. The Commissar's grip loosened and Davian collapsed onto the floor, gasping for air.
"Thank the Emperor you're…" Davian felt his heart sink into his stomach. The traitor marine stood before him, hands slick with blood, unarmed. At the sight of this, the Commissar instantaneously recomposed himself. Quivering with rage, he drew his power sword and ignited it. Blue energy covered the surface of it.
"For the Imperium!" the Commissar charged at his foe. He swung his blade at the chaos marine, but his foe sidestepped it, causing him to plunge the sword into the wall. The marine then grabbed the metallic arm of the Commissar by the wrist and held him aloft.
"You think I'm disarmed!" The Commissar raised his bolt pistol only for the traitor to grab him by the shoulder and pulled the mechanical limb from its socket. Blood and wire gushed from the open wound and the Commissar howled in agony, dropping his pistol and clutching the gaping hole where his arm once was. The marine then threw him against the table, shattering it as splinters pierced the Commissar. He screamed out in pain, nearly biting his tongue off as blood trickled from his many wounds.
Davian immediately ran for the doorway and gasped at the sight of his dead fellows. Guardsmen had been torn apart like they were made of paper by the abomination in the other room, their limbs scattered and bodies broken. He shrieked and ran towards the exit, only for him to hear the marine behind him. Accursed monster, not a man but a daemon, god emperor have mercy on me, he thought as he sprinted towards the exit. Yet he heard harsh metallic thumping behind him, and the occasional splattering of bodies beneath the adamantium boots of the chaos marine. He ran outside into the ruin of the command post, still awash in the violence of the heretics and the desperate struggle of his allies.
What fell before him was something out of a nightmare. Large flocks of daemonic flying machines had taken the skies, black and gold banners flung from buildings, and worst of all the last Hydra turret had been destroyed. While numberless dead heretics littered the battlefield all they fought for was lost, ground beneath the fist of the Black Legion and their allies.
The chaos marine emerged from the bunker, holding aloft the Commissar's bionic arm like a crude club. He chuckled as he pointed his new weapon at Davian. His every movement caused the guardsman to feel unease and dread. Davian wanted desperately to find an escape, yet nobody was there to aid him. His fellows and fled, and even his former enemies had abandoned this place to further plunder the hive. He was alone with this sadistic parody of a brave hero of the Imperium of Man.
Davian exhaled. He could no longer run. Where would he go if he would just be followed by an iron clad killer? He suddenly remembered the escape plan the Astartes enacted earlier, clearing debris from behind them. It was likely to be in the thick of combat, but it would be far safer than with this sadistic marine. Davian turned to face his aggressor with his lasgun raised.
"You think to shoot me little mortal?" The heretic marine bellowed. "Do it!"
Davian took aim and fired at a grenade of one of his dead comrades. Only in death does duty end. Rest well sister, he thought as he pulled the trigger. The grenade went off, causing the marine to fall on his backside, but still didn't puncture his armor. Screaming and cursing, the marine flipped himself over and chased after Davian, who had gotten a good head-start away from the deranged lunatic.
Davian followed through the escape path, rebar and rubble and been expertly cleared beforehand by the Astartes. But he soon heard the screaming of the traitor marine behind him. Scrap metal tore at his flak armor as he squeezed through a small opening and out into the city streets. He glimpsed his fellows, space marines and guardsmen doing their best to hold off against their foes. The chimera had been destroyed, but it felled the Mauler Fiend. There was some speck of hope for them.
Davian charged into the back of the enemy line, bayonet first as he stabbed the spine of a mutated gunner. The heretic fell before him as black blood squirted from the wound. He then seized the stubber and fired a volley into the ranks of the heretics. It ran out of munitions quickly, but he still did a number to his foes, and more importantly distracted them.
"We have an opening lads, give them hell!" Sergeant Barnes yelled. With the last of their grenades, las rounds, and any solid shot left, the guardsmen opened fire. They cut the ranks of the traitors down and they finally routed. In a panic Davian hid behind the cover of debris, the deranged cultists ignoring him, hoping to save their own skins. After they scattered Davian emerged from his hiding place, seeing his fellows out in the open. He ran towards them but before he could meet up with them a frag missile hit their column, taking a sizeable chunk of guardsmen with it. Davian turned to see the traitor marine standing at the front of the lost and damned. What remained of their force had rallied somewhat.
"Kill the mortals! Cull them in the name of Grandfather Nurgle!" he said, raising aloft a blade covered in puss and filth. His fellows gained their second wind and rained fire upon the loyalists again. The chaos marine trudged forth after sheathing his blade, his joining him. Davian, sprinting the whole time, barely made it to his own lines before a stray round punctured his leg. He fell face first into the courtyard as guardsmen and space marines returned fire with what little munitions they had left.
"Damn it all. Davian, what the hell happened? Where is Commissar Abraham?" Sergeant Barnes said.
"He… dead… bunker." Davian could barely speak between the pain and his own exhaustion.
"Shite. What are our orders lord?" Barnes said to the Space Marine Sergeant.
"Charge into their ranks. We have no other option." He fired a shot into the traitor marine, the plasma scorched off an ablative plate only to reveal putrid, rotten flesh and an unearthly stench.
The Guardsmen and Astartes charged forth into enemy lines. The numbers of the oncoming horde were greatly diminished and gave them ample opportunity to tear right into them. Leading the charge, the Marines quickly breached the traitor's ranks. The Guardsmen, while exhausted, were desperate and used bayonets, shovels, and even rebar to fight their foes in a bloody melee. Sergeant Barnes himself carved a swath through the heretics with his own chainblade, blood smearing his armor and even getting into one of his eyes. But as he reeled from it, the Plague Marine cut him across the chest with his sword. Barnes yelled out in pain as his flesh bubbled and festered, and the marine merely shoved him aside.
"B… Barnes? No… no… No!" Davian found his second wind. He grabbed a nearby shovel and threw himself at this abomination. The Plague Marine rushed forward, though fellow Guardsmen began throwing themselves at him. He slashed at them in vain, the more he cut down the more piled on him. Davian grabbed a shovel and struck the traitor under his helmet where the neck met the chin, and green brackish blood spurted out. Howling in pain, the Plague Marine brought his sword across and cut apart his fellows. Davian barely parried his attack, the sheer force from a Traitor Marine however broke his weapon along with his arm.
"Your luck has run out, little mortal. I'll send you screaming to the dark gods myself!" The Plague Marine raised his sword only to hear whirring of a chainblade.
"Get… away from him, you foul daemon!" Sargent Barnes held his chainblade aloft while clutching his side. The wound was getting worse by the second be he didn't care.
"Still alive? How commendable. I'll" a final volley of bolt shells pelted the Plague Marine as his loyal counterparts spent the last of their munitions. He still stood, but his armor was ruptured and he continued to bleed. Sargent Barnes ran headfirst into him and shoved his revved chainblade into the foul flesh of the Plague Marine. Barnes screamed as tainted blood covered his body, melting his own flesh like acid, but he still pressed on.
"I'll send you to your damned gods personally! When you get to Grandfather Nurgle, tell him I sent you there in pieces!" Barnes drew his blade out of the marine's body, tearing it asunder, and causing an enormous chunk of flesh and organs to spill out on top of him. He collapsed into the pile of putrid filth as the Plague Marine fell to his back, dead at last.
"Sarge?" the word was barely a whisper when it emerged from Davian's mouth. The surrounding battle had ended. The lost and the damned finally routed. Bodies of both friend and foe littered his surrounding as his eyes teared up.
"You fool… you brave damned fool." Davian used what was left of his shovel to uncover Barnes' body. He was still alive, yet most of his skin rotted, his veins were a sickly blue, and his eyes bulged from their sockets.
"Sarge. I'll get the medic. We'll-"
"Not this time, lad. Not now. I'm not getting out of this one. I want you to do it. Make it quick, would you?"
Davian drew forth the laspistol he had received from earlier.
"Emperor keep you, Sergeant Johnathan Barnes." Davian pressed the barrel on his superior's forehead. He closed his eyes as tears streamed down his face.
"Goodbye, Davian. My friend. I'll see you in the Emperor's paradise." Barnes grit his teeth and closed his eyes. Davian squeezed the trigger. A hole burned cleanly through the head of Sergeant Barnes. Not the messy deaths like before. This was silent and even more haunting for poor Davian. He opened his eyes and saw before him the corpse of his friend. Davian screamed in frustration and anguish, still gripping his laspistol.
"Come, Guardsman. We need to leave now." The Space Marine Sergeant approached Davian. He didn't budge; he was a mess of tears and snot as his entire world died around him.
"We need to leave now! We're exposed! More could come at-"a loud thud emanated from the courtyard.
The marines turned to face a daemon engine unlike any they had seen before, more akin to a dragon of myth than other machines of Chaos. The beast had two heads with long serpentine necks, metal and flesh entwined its armored scales, four clawed legs supported its mass and a massive tail, and upon it rode the lord of the war band. Dehrghast Xiarion sat upon his war beast. Gold trimmed black armor adorned him along with a crown of Blackstone embedded into his helmet. A great fur pelt adorned his shoulders, great mechanical bat wings could be seen from his back, yet he did not wear any gear familiar to his brethren in the Raptors.
"This battle is lost, my brothers. You should consider joining me. Your allies shall not be harmed if they stand down, I swear this as-"
"Traitor! Your head will be ours!" The Sergeant leading the marines charged at him, as did his battle brothers.
"Brave until the end, I see. Make it quick, Niddhogg." Dehrghast stroked the head of his war beast. Its left head glowed with warp fire, the right with ectoplasmic energy. Both made quick work of the brave Astartes that tried to fell the beast, Niddhogg would then feast on the flesh of the fallen as was his way. As Dehrghast dismounted, he saw a lone weeping Guardsman among the bodies. He sighed, such a sigh was all too common in over ten thousand years of war, yet he always held a measure of respect for those who fought on, regardless. They had earned that much in his eyes.
He gave a silent salute before hearing footsteps behind him. A man in a greatcoat with a bolt pistol held aloft approached him.
"Suffer not the heretic to-"A las bolt struck him dead center in the chest. The weeping guardsman stood, his face a mess of tears and snot, firing more rounds into his commanding officer. The Commissar silently snarled as life left his body and he fell over to the ground.
"Excellent work Guardsman, I'll-"
"I didn't do it for you," the Guardsman said. "I did it for them. For all of them. They deserved better."
"They did. And so do you." Dehrghast placed his hand on the Guardsman's shoulder.
"Don't touch me you bastard!" The Guardsman limped away with what little strength he had. "I've had enough from today."
"If you won't join me, what will you do?"
The Guardsman looked at his pistol and pointed it towards his head, looking defiantly at Dehrghast.
"The Emperor protects!" he shouted. He closed his eyes but couldn't bring himself to squeeze the trigger. He dropped his weapon and wept. Dehrghast felt pity for him, this man who risked his all and still ended up losing everything dear to him. A squad of Chaos Chosen soon approached behind him.
"My lord, the loyalists have routed completely. This hive is ours and with the loss of their fleet soon shall this entire sector." One said.
"Good. Muster the slaves to strip down what valuables we can gain from the city. Especially power units and any data on evacuees. The Warmaster himself needs bodies for the Long War." Dehrghast raised his hand, not even bothering to look at them.
"What about this one? Want me to put him down?"
"No. You shall do no such thing. Leave him be. Go plunder the upper hive to your heart's content."
"But my lord, this is just some mortal. They're expen-" Dehrghast struck the chosen with such force that he collapsed to the ground.
"Do not question my judgement. This poor brave soul has suffered enough at our hands. Might as well leave him be. If you ever question me again, I'll feed you to my beloved creatures, those blessed war machines of Chaos Undivided that your screaming soul will be torn asunder and suffer endless agonies in the warp itself! Am I clear?!"
"Y-yes, my lord."
"Good. Now let us go. We have a world to plunder." As Dehrghast and his chosen left, a small part of him wished the lone Guardsman well. He had earned that much for all his trouble.