Fire and Claws
The ground was exploding around Cyrus and the beleaguered Blood Ravens. Artillery strikes from both Imperial Basilisks and Space Marine Whirlwinds were blasting countless craters into the swamplands that swiftly began to pool with water. All around them, the land was burning. Through the smoke, other marine remnants battled scores of Imperial Guardsmen, desperately trying to stymie their push. Shrugging off lasgun bolts that struck Cyrus' carapace armour, Cyrus brandished his knife and charged into the platoon. Screaming litanies, the rest of the marines joined the fray. A flash of chainswords and power axes reflected the surrounding flames. Bayonets broke against ceramite. Red blood flowed from open wounds. Limbs flew. Men screamed. Only carnage remained.
Not pausing to survey the remains, Cyrus spurred his followers onwards. "To the Monastery, quickly!" he cried. The Blood Ravens were scattered across the battlefield. Vox reports had been sporadic, but the general consensus was to fall back to the fortress. Cyrus's vox chimed. It was Captain Gelden of the 5th Company.
"Attention, all remaining Blood Ravens, please respond! Company Captains, report in immediately!" Gelden's voice was still affected by static, but the signal was no longer wavering. He quickly responded to the hail.
"Captain Gelden, this is Captain Cyrus, 10th Company! What is the situation?"
"Captain, all Blood Ravens are to return to the Fortress Monastery and form a defensive line. The Imperial Guard are pressing towards the outer bastions as we speak. What is your status?"
"We are about three kilometres south of the Monastery. I have gathered stragglers from 5th and 6th Companies. We're caught between the Guard's forward armour regiments and our own Artillery."
Gelden responded, "Understood, Captain. Be warned, the Techmarines' scans have indicated that one of Stubbs Baneblades is moving forward to reinforce the frontline. Keep pressing forward and try to keep ahead of the main force. So far, my survivors and the 2nd company have been able to hold them at bay, but they are relentless. We shall see you soon, Captain. May the Emperor guide you here safely."
Cyrus nodded, "Understood Captain, marines, double time!" The group continued their charge. Ahead of them, a company of Guardsmen turned to face their attackers. Lasgun fire dissected dust clouds, and everywhere there was the sound of explosions and weapon discharges. Mieron swung wildly with his power axe, their blood shimmering on its blade. Bron and Jereth leapt forward to support their sergeant. The Blood Ravens drove a wedge into the guard formation.
The fighting continued to thicken around the Blood Ravens. Tanks and armoured vehicles were increasingly common; the closer Cyrus and the marines came to the Fortress Monastery, the denser the Guard numbers became. The clouds of smoke cleared momentarily, revealing the looming shape of the Fortress Monastery's towering spires and gleaming ramparts. It wasn't much further.
They finally reached a large pile of ruined vehicles, victims of the 2nd Company's concentrated fire. It formed a long barrier, stretching out in both directions into the clouds of dust. Several tanks were trying to clear the barricade. The wall was holding the tide back, slowing the Imperial advance to a crawl. However, it also blocked their retreat. Backs to the wall, Kerax's marines let loose their bolters once more against the advancing imperials. Countless guardsmen fell, but still more pushed against them like a tidal wave. Denmor's heavy bolter sang, the rhythm of his shots punctuated by the sound of their impact detonations.
Cyrus smiled at his recruit's prowess. He would make a fine devastator one day. His red carapace armour was blackened by repeated las fire, but Denmor stayed firm, shrugging off the bolts even as they continued to score his uniform. Cyrus loaded his rifle. It was his last shot. Make it count.
The high speed projectile erupted from the barrel, and mere milliseconds later splattered a vox operator's head across the bloodied battlefield. He lowered his gun, the magazine empty. The steady staccato of Denmor's weapon soon ended, and within a minute, the Blood Ravens ammunition had been spent. Cyrus brandished his knife, ready to take the next charge. Mieron's warriors gripped their weapons, bracing themselves. Alexis's servos began to whine, and his vehicle extended its remaining claw menacingly.
The Guard had momentarily stopped. The loud noise of an approaching vehicle filled the air. The mass of Guardsmen began to part, revealing the source. The mighty Baneblade had arrived. Over the vehicles loudspeakers, the vox operator's voice was tinged with metal. "Blood Ravens, lay down your weapons, or face annihilation. If you surrender, we shall offer you every respect we possess. End this pointless slaughter."
Alexis spoke softly. "The Blood Ravens... do not... surrender... no matter the odds..."
"So be it." the vox operator lamented. "May the Emperor watch over you, Angels of Death."
The Baneblade's weapons were trained on Cyrus's group. His good eye narrowed. Then, they moved. Moments later, the cannon fired. Too late.
The first soldier's bayonet he grabbed with his gauntlet, twisting it out of shape while running the poor soul through with his knife. The second received a stab through his faceplate, and the third the victim of a vicious backhand that slit his jugular. Around him, the other Blood Ravens battled dozens of guardsmen apiece, their heavy ceramite armour protecting them from the worst of injuries. This close to the Baneblade, it's guns were useless.
Alexis the Dreadnought stampeded forward, knocking aside guardsmen and making for the Baneblade. "My tomb is eternal, yours is not!"
"To Brother Alexis!" shouted Mieron. Arevar and Praxus activated their jump jets, crashing onto the top of the Baneblade. Alexis claw grabbed the front of the tanks chassis, and he activated the flamer. With his fist, Alexis pounded away at the Baneblade's armor, tearing it apart bit by bit. Cyrus ducked a Commissar's power sword and watched the veteran continue his rampage.
The metal titans clashed, Alexis versus the Baneblade. Despite Alexis' damage, he was holding the Baneblade to a standstill. The veteran struggled to hold the tank back, bracing himself by digging his feet into the ground. He would not be beaten this way. Above, Arevar leapt from the turret into the clustered infantry. His chainsword sliced through a guardsman's flak jacket, tearing the man's chest apart.
Around him, Cyrus and the marines were becoming bogged down in the fighting. Praxus was dragged to the ground by sheer numbers. The marine lashed out with his knife, killing with every swing, but it wasn't enough. Dozens of point blank las bolts pierced his armor at the seams. A high powered shot struck his neck, severing his head. The Astartes ceased thrashing, lying dead amongst his victims.
Cyrus was struck in the chest by a las shot. The blast took him off his feet. The bolt had burned through his carapace armor effortlessly, passing through his chest and out his back. He felt little pain, but the shock had taken him by surprise. Beside him, Kerax took several shots to his shoulder pauldrons, scoring deep holes into them. Whatever the guard had done to their guns, it was working.
Alexis grappled with the tank's gun, pushing the cannon away from his brothers. Beneath the titans, a pair of Guardsmen crept underneath the frame of Alexis's Dreadnought. The enterprising soldiers attached a large package to the hull. Too late, Cyrus recognized the Melta charge. He threw himself flat against the ground. The bomb detonated as the guardsmen darted away.
The Dreadnought exploded, sending flying chunks of superheated metal into the crowd, flaying both Guardsmen and Blood Raven alike. The front of the Baneblade was scarred by the explosion, but it was still working. Cyrus stumbled to his feet, his congealed head wound bleeding anew. Loxas and Orthel were dead, the others heavily wounded. The Blood Ravens struggled to their feet, clutching deep wounds.
"Blood Ravens, scale the wall! Fall back, I repeat, fall back now!" shouted Cyrus. It was a long shot, but they wouldn't stand a chance against the Baneblade now. Alexis' melted hull was crushed under the advancing tank's treads. The ancient had fallen while barely damaging the behemoth vehicle.
As it turned out, they didn't have to. Two of the burning wrecks were pushed aside, blowing up a cloud of smoke and dust. Heavy Bolter rounds flashed through the sky, and the smoke parted to reveal the red painted shape of a Razorback. The Marine manning the Bolter waved to the Blood Ravens. The way was clear, and the gunner was covering their retreat. Cyrus nodded to the Marines, and they rushed for the breach.
The Baneblade pursued them, gun sponsons firing into their backs. The Blood Ravens ducked under the tank's field of fire, sprinting for cover. The Razorback was drawing fire away from them, but the transport was no match for the Baneblade. It instead focused on blocking the incoming wave of Guardsmen. Mieron held his ground, slashing and hacking the guardsmen while the marines fell back. He pushed Cyrus through the hole, before turning and following the Blood Ravens through. The air was choked with dust on the other side of the wall, but Cyrus saw a welcoming sight. Bright green visors pierced the smoke, fellow Blood Ravens at long last.
With a battle cry, the 2nd Company Marines opened fire on the breach, cutting down the pursuing Imperial Guard with ease. The Razorback drove back through the hole, firing the entire time. The gunner cut down several troops with a wide sweep of his weapon.
Cyrus stepped to the side, his followers mirroring him. He slumped to the ground in exhaustion. A shining figure, clad in gold trimmed armour, power sword in hand, rushed past them. Commander Indrick Boreale was leading from the front, hungry for glory. No doubt to also avoid hearing our criticism as well, thought Cyrus.
Another Marine approached. Despite his soot covered face, the noble image of the 5th Company Captain's well trimmed beard and fiery eyes shone through the grime. Captain Gelden offered a hand to Cyrus, hoisting him to his feet. "It is good to see you alive, Cyrus. I had feared for the worst."
"And to you, Captain," said Cyrus, accepting his hand. "Our brothers require medical attention. Three are dead, and more if we do not reach the Apothecaries."
Gelden wrapped an arm around Cyrus' shoulder, and the two walked back towards the Monastery. The heavy walls were pockmarked with holes and scorched black by fire. Gelden sighed. "Things are far worse than we feared. We have much to discuss and little time to do so."
The landing pad for the Monastery had been converted into a makeshift aid station. Dozens of wounded Marines and scouts were being tended to by a trio of Apothecaries performing triage, seeing who could be saved, and whose geneseeds to salvage. Chaplain Gren stood in the middle, chanting litanies of purification to cleanse the more gangrenous injuries, as well as to keep morale up. Cyrus and Gelden entered the command tent. Mieron and Kerax had returned to their Companies, leaving Cyrus with only Denmor. The young scout stood at the entrance to the tent while the two captains conferred inside.
The Tech Marines had installed a mobile holochart, similar to the one within the Monastery's communications room. Upon the entrance of the two captains, the techmarine nodded, and exited the tent, his servitor aids trailing him. "It is far worse than you imagined Cyrus," Gelden began. "First the damned deep strike beacons go offline, and then the vox lines go down! Our casualties have been severe, mostly due to the drop pod misfires."
Cyrus' scar wept plasma and cracked as he spoke, "This wouldn't have happened if Boreale was not in charge," he said. "We couldn't hope to face the Imperial Guard in a straight fight, much less in a disorganized mess. How many have made it back?"
Gelden sighed, "Most of my Battle Brothers arrived intact. I have you personally to thank for returning Mieron. It seems that 6th Company took the worst losses. Over half their brothers have not reported in. Cyrus, look, I know you are right. You were right from the beginning. I wanted to agree with you back in the monastery, I believed in your plan! But the Chapter Command dictates that all decisions can be vetoed by the campaign's Force Commander. I have as much to lose from this as you do."
"Do you Gelden? What have you to lose? Half your Company isn't even deployed here. You would be willing to let the rest of us die to uphold the Chapter Command's will?"
"I did not say that Cyrus!" said Gelden, "Don't you dare to presume such. Your contributions to the Chapter do not give you the right to insult those who disagree with you. Right now, we cannot afford to deviate from our present course. One plan has already failed; placing our hopes on another at such a critical moment is foolhardy. We must trust in the codex. If that means fighting to the last man, then so be it. I am loyal to the Chapter Master, and to Angelos."
Cyrus glared. "Gelden, your words and experience mean something! Do not throw your right aside. Angelos would listen to your opinions, yet you sit back and accept your fate. You could speak out against Boreale, we could find another way."
Gelden bowed his head, "I know... I know" he whispered. "I should have said something. I should have questioned him. But, I just cannot. I cannot do it. The Blood Ravens cannot continue operating in a regime that condemns questioning orders. But, it is beyond my control, Cyrus. There's nothing I can do."
"Yes there is, Gelden. You can speak out, voice your opinions. Boreale was placed in charge here by the word of one man, Chapter Master Azariah. I do not doubt his courage, but he is not ready. As a follower, he is the model Battle Brother. But as the leader, we have suffered far worse than we would under a capable Commander. Why would nobody question Kyras's orders? Because nobody has the courage to speak up. That needs to change."
"It's too late, Cyrus. We, I cannot do anything to stop the events set in motion today. Please, just leave. Do what you will, it doesn't matter anymore."
Cyrus turned to leave, but he paused at the entrance to the tent. "Gelden," he said softly. "Thing about what I said. You have a voice. Use it."