Hola everyone!
Well here we are again, at the start of another chapter. ;)
I wont keep you, see you at the end.
NO flamming.
Chapter Three
Defenders of Mankind
Grix awoke in the medical bay of the hospital. Slowly he pushed himself up, and a hand shot up to his head. It throbbed painfully. "What the hell happened?" he asked himself, as there was no one around. "I was fighting the orks at the eastern wall."
Recollection crept into his mind, "There was an explosion and then…" The image of the black armored giant was stark and clear in his memory. "The Space Marine…"
Just then, a female medicae officer pulled back the curtain surrounding the sergeant's bed in the medical bay. "Ah, Sergeant Grix, it is good to see you have regained consciousness."
He nodded and looked at her, "What happened to me?"
The medicae reached for a dataslate at the foot of the bed. "You received a mild concussion, three broken ribs, and quite a bit of internal bleeding." She watched as Grix's vital signs scrolled across the dataslate, "You are lucky one of your fellow Guardsmen brought you here, or you would be dead by now."
"Am I in fighting condition again?"
The medicae looked down at the dataslate again and touched several runes, "Well, your concussion has been handled, but could still kill you if you are not careful. Your ribs have been set, though too much stress on them will be quite painful for you, and your internal injuries have been sealed."
Grix simply stared at her, waiting for a definitive answer.
Without looking up from the slate, she continued, "In short, sergeant, no. You are not fit for a return to combat as of yet."
He sighed. He had expected this, "How long will it be until I am fit?"
"That depends on your cooperation with the medicae personal and your own body's willingness to heal. Thus far, sergeant," she pressed another rune, "Your progress has been excellent."
"How long was I out for?"
"About twelve Terran hours."
I've been out for far too long. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and, despite the pain in his ribs, stood. "How fares the fight?" he asked through gritted teeth.
"Sergeant, what did I just say?" The medicae stepped forward and laid a hand on his chest, "You must rest."
Grix slapped the hand away, "Do not tell me what I must do, medicae. Now I'll ask again, how fares the fight?"
The medicae sighed, "The Astartes drove the orks back from the walls. Their commander is meeting with General Karr and Commissar Thorpe in the governor's palace to discuss the next move."
"Thank you," the sergeant muttered, and walked unsteadily from the room.
--
Brother-Captain Bram pushed open the large metal doors into the room which had become the strategic planning room since the Guardsmen had been pushed back to the city limits. Dios was right behind him.
Inside, Karr leaned over the holomap projector, his aides giving him a briefing on the damage sustained to the city and the casualties.
"Minor damage to the eastern walls, aside from the gaping hole left by the ork's bombing run."
"Of the men stationed at the wall, three hundred are dead and one thousand are wounded."
"I see." Karr sighed and looked up. He jumped a little bit at the sight of the captain in his Tactical Dreadnaught armor, commonly referred to as Terminator armor. Apparently he didn't hear them enter. Dios stood beside Captain Bram, arms folded across his chest.
Karr strode around the holomap and knelt before Bram, "It is an honor to be in the presence of the Adeptus Astartes, especially such a decorated captain as yourself, my lord."
Bram laid a gauntleted hand on the general's shoulder. Bram's hand could punch through adamantium or crush the life out of a heretic. But also could it hold the most delicate glass sculpture with no fear of crushing it. "Stand, general. No man need kneel before any but the Emperor."
The man stood, and bowed twice; once to Bram, once to Dios. "I cannot thank you and your company enough for what you have done for…" he began.
The captain silenced him with a wave of his hand, "You sent out a request for help and we received your request. We could not and would not leave one of the Emperor's worlds undefended."
Karr smiled, "All the same, thank you." He walked back around and turned the holomap back on. The city of Eyoden was displayed before them.
"Rewind twelve Terran hours," the general ordered the servitor nearby.
The image of the city became fuzzy and the greenskins forces backpedaled across the hills, going backwards to the city.
Finally the image became clear again and the battle raged. Then the Thunderhawk swooped in, dropping Dios and his squad off at the breach. Soon, the drop pods smashed into the green tide and the rest of the company was disgorged into the battle.
The battle moved at an accelerated pace and soon the orks were retreating over the hills back to the other cities.
"The orks were beaten," Karr said.
"Beaten, but not routed." Dios added.
"Indeed, brother-sergeant. The greenskins have been pushed back. Nothing more. They are, as we speak, reorganizing their forces to prepare for another assault." Bram folded his arms behind his back, and began to slowly circle to holomap, "General, how many men do you have under your command?"
"Just under two hundred thousand men, along with an entire regiment's worth of tanks and transports."
"Not enough men to constitute an all-out offensive." Bram considered the options.
"My men are all ready and willing to take the fight to the greenskins, my lord." Karr spoke up.
"A fact I'm well aware of, general. The collective courage and fervor of the Imperial Guard is not being questioned." Bram continued his circle of the holomap. "Show me the location of the orks now." He commanded the servitor.
The machine whirred and beeped as the projector's image shifted. Now displayed was a city. The street level of the city was completely red, every square inch containing a xeno.
"That's the city of Tartan. It was the last city to fall to their advance before we set up our last stand here in Eyoden." Karr answered Bram's unasked question. "We suffered moderate casualties to the units stationed there."
The Space Marine captain leaned on the holomap table, "We need to find a way to catch the orks off guard, a way to get into the heart of the city. This will throw their whole horde into disarray." Thorpe looked upon the captain with a doubting eye.
"Is there a problem, commissar?" Dios inquired from the other side of the room.
Thorpe turned his gaze to the sergeant, "I am not convinced of your loyalty to the Emperor. You are Space Marines, yes. However I am not ignorant of the past. I know of the events of the Horus Heresy. I know of the Space Marines that betrayed Him and gave themselves to the Ruinous Powers of Chaos. How do we know you are not those Chaos Space Marines?"
Bram stood, "Commissar, I would highly advise you keep such thoughts from your mind." He reached up and undid the clasps of his helmet. He turned the full might of his gaze upon the human, whom he towered above, "The loyalty of my Company and or my Chapter has never once been compromised. We praise the God-Emperor and live to fight and destroy His enemies. We carry out His judgment and will."
The commissar was chastened but did not back down, "Who are you to claim to know His will?"
Bram's eyes flared, "I am Captain Igneous Bram of the Angel of Vengeance Sixth Company. The Space Marines were created in His image and we have carried out his will ever since He began his conquest of Terra. Do not ever question our loyalty again, commissar, or I shall put a bolt through your doubting skull."
Thorpe didn't show any sign of fear, but Dios could hear his pulse racing. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. A few moments of tense silence followed before Bram turned back to the holomap. "Are there any secret ways into the city?"
"Not that I know of, cap-" Karr began.
The doors swung open and a heavily bandaged man stumbled into the room.
"Who are you?" Thorpe demanded.
The man stood as straight as he could but he winced, "I am Sergeant Christopher Grix of the Draxalian Fourth Infantry Regiment."
Dios instantly recognized the newcomer as the man he had seen the previous night.
"Sergeant, this is not the place for someone of your rank." Karr replied.
"But, sir," Grix began.
"Sergeant, I will have you shot for insubordination if you do not leave this room," Thorpe threatened.
Grix looked at the Space Marines and a small smile graced his face. He turned to leave.
Bram turned back to the general, "So you know of no unused ways in Tartan?"
"No, captain," he affirmed.
"I know of a way," Grix interjected, his back still turned to them.
"What?" the general asked.
The sergeant turned back around and wobbled unsteadily to the holomap. "Here," he pointed to the southern side of the city. "There's a maintenance hatch into the sewage systems in the hills."
"How big is this hatch, sergeant?" Dios asked.
He closed his eyes, as if it deep thought, "Well, it's been well over twenty years since I was last there. The door is only about seven feet high and four feet wide, but the access tunnel inside could have three Leman Russ tanks side by side and two stacked on top of each other with room to spare."
Karr clapped his hands together, "It appears we now have a way to drive this ork filth from our world. What is our plan of attack, captain?"
He smiled, "I am afraid you ask the wrong Marine, general." With a gesture, he called Dios forward, "This is Veteran Sergeant Dios. He is my second in command, but he also possesses the most brilliant tactical mind in the company. Even as we spoke, I am sure he has already come up with a battle plan."
Dios reached up and removed his helmet, three silver service studs jutting from his brow bone, "Indeed I have, brother-captain."
Bram stepped aside, and all eyes turned to Dios, "Please, brother-sergeant."
The sergeant leaned forward and pointed to the maintenance hatch. Slowly, the plan his mind had formulated began to be explained, "I will lead a two squad team of Marines into this access tunnel…"
--
All was quiet in the forest around Tartan. The ork sentries went about their patrols or dozed leaning on the battlements. Not even the animals stirred as the ten Space Marines slipped by, under the shadow of the trees.
The orks had gone to extensive effort to fortify the city. What appeared to be anti-aircraft guns were along the walls at regular intervals. The patrol routes of the sentries covered virtually every inch of the walls. The western gate and the surrounding walls, the wall closest to the city of Eyoden, were especially over defended. It sported gun turrets on either side of the gate. Almost as if they expected an attack. Clever for brutes, Dios had commented when he was explaining his plan of attack.
They moved in silence, hand signals and acknowledgement runes their only form of communication.
The maintenance hatch came into view. Dios signaled to one of his Marines. Brother-Krotas stepped out of cover and kneeled on the ground. Two orks stood guard outside the hatch. The beasts know of this hatch yet the Imperial Guard did not? Krotas mused to himself.
He locked his bolter in the crook of his arm and gazed through the sight. The first ork was leaning against the rockcrete of the city walls, head falling forward as he dozed off. The other stood and walked over to his companion. Krotas waited until both orks were lined up in his sight, and then pulled the trigger.
The bolt flew through the silencer without a sound. It went clear through the closest ork, a clean hole through its skull. The second ork's head exploded violently, skull fragments and brain matter splattering the wall behind. Both corpses slumped to the ground. Krotas held up two fingers then made a cutting motion through the air, Threat neutralized.
The squad of Marines moved quickly to the hatch, the alien blood pooling around their feet.
Dios made a quick gesture, and another battle-brother stepped forward. This one carried a large flamer connected to a container of promethium attached to his power armor.
Brother Zeke spoke the necessary rites and prayed to the machine-spirit of his flamer, before squeezing the trigger. The promethium gushed through the flamer before spraying past the pilot light just outside the nozzle. Searing flame burst from the weapon, incinerating the xenos corpses before the spores they emitted could be allowed to grow into new orks. When nothing but ash and cinder remained, Zeke turned the stream of liquid fire on the access hatch, melting it in a matter of seconds. Zeke released the nozzle and held up an open hand before gesturing inside the still melting hole, Breach secured. No hostiles detected.
Dios nodded and motioned inside, Move in. The remaining nine members of the Fourth Squad obeyed and, one-by-one, slipped into the breach.
Inside it was pitch black; the lights lining the ceiling had long since burned out. But thanks to the Space Marines enhanced eyes, and their power armor's own auto-senses, it was as clear and bright as though the sun was shining. Slowly, they descended further and further into the darkness. Knowing now that their vox-traffic could not be heard through the meters of rockcrete above them, Dios tensed the muscles in his throat, "Scouts, you have your orders." Instantly, ten acknowledgement runes blinked on his helmet display.
Invisibly among their brothers, thanks to the concealing effects of their camo-cloaks, the Scout squad taken from the Tenth Company doubled their pace and disappeared completely into the darkness.
Dios continued to lead his squad through the access tunnel until they were deep underneath the heart of the city. Finally he found a doorway. He pressed himself against one side of the door, and nodded to Krotas. Krotas stood before the door and kicked it in.
The metal crumpled and flew off its hinges, smashing into a group of three orks on the other side. Without pause or remorse, Krotas felled each with a single silent shot to its skull. "Clear." was his only word.
Dios clapped him once on the shoulder before slipping through the door. Krotas followed, and each member of the squad was right behind them. They swiftly moved up the stairs inside the room, with Zeke pausing at the bottom to 'purify the ground', as he called it.
At the top of the stairs, Dios again activated the vox bead in his throat, "Umenis, contacts?"
Right behind Brother Krotas, Brother Umenis grabbed the auspex from his backpack and clicked it on. The screen flickered to life, and all around the center of the screen, thousands of red blips blinked back at Umenis, "Thousands, sir. But it appears that there is about thirty meter area around the exit from this room where they are not encroaching."
"And where does this room exit out into?"
"We actually come out into an alleyway between two of the Administratium buildings."
Plenty of cover within the shadows, the squad leader thought to himself. "Move out, Angels."
Carefully, slowly, he pushed open the door. The alleyway was dark, but the light of the stars and the Draxal's twin moons illuminated the streets at either end.
As the door opened, Dios could hear them and smell them before he could see them. The orks crowded in the streets, hooting and hollering as they watched contests between their brothers. Occasionally, fights would break out but they were small and ended quickly.
Thankfully the moons were on the opposite side of on the buildings. There was no way an ork's eyes could pierce the gloom and see the Marines hiding in the shadows.
"Veteran Sergeant Dios to Scout-Sergeant Syokai," Dios voxed.
"Scout-Sergeant Syokai here," was the reply.
"Are you and your squad in position?"
"Yes, sir. All scouts are in position; demo charges planted and ready to blow."
"Any problems?"
"Several xenos crossed our paths. My scouts made short work of them.
"Very good, sergeant. Upon my signal, detonate the charges."
"Yes, sir." The connection cut.
Dios accessed his own squad's vox-link, "Fourth Squad, the scouts are in position." Nine acknowledgement runes blinked in his helmet.
He opened a private channel, "Brother Krotas, you are the best marksman in the squad." Knowing Krotas was watching him, he pointed to the smaller of the two buildings, "Make your way to the roof of that building. Eliminate any resistance and cover your brothers who are in the thick of it."
"Yes, sir," Krotas nodded his head. Using the magnetic lock on his bolter, he attached it to the side of his thigh before running to the building. Using his servo-assisted strength, he forcibly made hand grips in the rockcrete and slowly made his way up.
The veteran sergeant looked to his other brothers, they all stood ready to make war on the greenskins and bring them death. However, his eyes came to rest upon a Marine standing with a little space between himself and the rest of the squad. A stylized 'I' stood out on his left shoulder.
"Brother Ephraim? Is everything alright?" Dios voxed on another private channel.
The Marine turned his head to catch Dios' gaze, "Indeed, veteran sergeant. Everything is fine." His voice seemed older, the voice that carried a thousand memories best left forgotten.
"Your time in the Deathwatch ways heavily on you, brother," Dios noted.
"It does, brother-sergeant."
"Perhaps you should consult Chaplain Eyonai when this mission is complete."
"I can't, brother-sergeant."
"Can't or won't?" Dios asked, though he already knew the answer.
"Both."
"The Ordo Xenos keeps its secrets close."
"It does." Ephraim remained silent as he replayed hazy recollections, little more than echoes, through his mind. Oaths had been sworn. Promises were made. Memories were torn from the mind by psyk-enhanced meditation and the ungentle scouring on arcane machinery.
"Let us take the fight to the alien, brother," Dios finally said.
"Of course, sir," Ephraim nodded.
"Fourth squad," the squad leader voxed on the squad channel, "The xenos threat surrounds us. They believe themselves superior to the Guardsman, superior to us, superior to Mankind." He racked the slide on his bolter, "It is time to prove them wrong, brothers! Let us go forth and wreak His terrible fury!"
"For the Emperor!" they replied in unison.
Krotas' acknowledgement rune blinked. It was time. He unclipped a frag grenade from his belt, and heard his squad do the same. His vox channel to Syokai opened, "Blow the charges, sergeant."
No answer was forthcoming, but for the distant booms of explosions. Across the city, support structures were blown to bits, and buildings swayed briefly before crashing to the streets below. Inhuman bestial roars echoed before being cut short as their lives were cut short.
"Take the vengeance to the enemy, Angels!" Dios cried as he primed his grenade before hurling it into the now confused horde of orks. His squad followed his example. The grenades exploded violently, shrapnel tearing into the greenskins.
Bolters fired full-auto into the crowd. Bolts ripped through bodies and exploded, filling the street with thick xenos blood.
"For the Lion and the Emperor!" Dios yelled as he crushed the nearest orks face with the butt of his bolter.
The squad echoed his cry as they laid into the greenskins. Chainswords were ripped from their scabbards and roared to life. Magus' power sword surged to life as he thumbed the activation rune, the red light running up the length of the blade.
"Death to the xenos!" They all cried in unity.
--
Krotas kneeled on the roof of one of the Administratium buildings, specialized bolter locked in the crook of his arm.
He gazed down his sight at the carnage his battle-brothers were bringing to bear on the orks. He squeezed the trigger and an ork nob about to disembowel Ephraim from behind dropped to the street in a lifeless heap.
With each squeeze of the trigger, an ork was killed, its body falling into the ankle deep river of blood now filling the streets.
Krotas could hear thrusters behind him, but they soundedtoo soft to be the Thunderhawks. Quickly, he threw himself to one side as an armored figure with a jump pack on its back slashed claws through where his neck had just been. The figure roared in anger but continued onward.
Krotas' eyes caught sight of the midnight blue color of the armor, the skull with bat-like wings on one shoulder of the figure, and the stylized lightning on one of its greaves. Night Lords.
The Night Lords were one of the nine Space Marine Legions that turned their backs on the Emperor and followed the banner of the Warmaster Horus, in the time of the Horus Heresy over ten thousand years ago. During the Siege of Terra, the Night Lords, and their Primarch Kunrad Curze or Night Haunter, were on a genocidal campaign to stop any support from this section of the galaxy reaching Terra. After the Heresy, the Night Lords remained one of the only Traitor Legions to retain its pre-Heresy numbers. They had made war on the Imperium since their retreat in Eye of Terror.
The Night Lord spun and came around for another pass. He did not wear a helmet and black eyes, stark against the almost translucent skin were alight, the raptor was enjoying himself. This time, however, Krotas was ready. Dropping his gun to the roof, he ducked the Night Lord's initial attack and rammed his fist into his midsection.
The attack changed the Night Lord's trajectory and the jump pack on his back slammed him into the rockcrete of the building. As the Chaos Marine reeled from the blow, Krotas pressed his advantage, delivering a savage blow to the traitors face. He felt bones break.
The Chaos Marine howled in agony and rage. He glared hate filled eyes up at Krotas, "How fares the False Emperor, servant of the Corpse-God?"
A sneer met its lips as Krotas ripped off his helmet. With eyes of a deep gold and dark brown hair, Krotas did not resemble many of his battle-brothers. "Last time I checked, traitor, your precious Warmaster was slain at the hand of the Emperor, who reigns forever on the Golden Throne."
The sneer vanished from the Night Lord's face, moving instead to Krotas'. He knelt and clasped a hand around the Night Lord's throat, both of his knees holding down his arms.
"Die, traitor…"
The traitor's response was to roar voicelessly, his black eyes alight with rage; all amusement was gone. He struggled vainly against Krotas' weight holding his arms down.
Krotas leaned down, his lips close to the Night Lord's ear, "I hate you."
The Night Lord hissed.
"This is the Emperor's galaxy." With a final surge of effort, the Angel squeezed with all his strength. His iron grip was more than even the impressive Space Marine physiology could withstand. Vertebrae cracked and popped under the pressure. "Mankind's galaxy. Our galaxy. Know that as your worthless life ends."
Krotas let the traitor fall dead to the roof. His hands released their grip on its throat. He stood over his kill. "Veteran Sergeant?" he voxed.
"What is it, brother?"
"The situation just got much more complicated."
There you have it. The Night Lords are on Draxal.
What is their purpose here, and what could it mean for the Angels?
You'll just have to be patient and find out. ;)