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Las bolts peppered the curtain wall, striking the hissing forms of the drop pods and causing their armoured plates to glow. A return thunder of bolter rounds streaked forward to explode into the rushing horde of cult crazed guard. An auto cannon stitched across the trench work of bodies the Marines sheltered behind, blowing chunks of meat across their scuffed yellow and black armour. Sergeant Claudius dug his fingers into the back of a corpse and hauled himself up, staring through his visor plates at the guard coming towards them. Claudius had his orders, upon impact they were to create a firing line in preparation for the Captains retreat to the walls. Saul and Diomedes covered his flanks with their own tactical squads and he knew that this rabble of blood crazed fools would barely scratch their armour. A las bolt struck one of the rounded studs on his helm and snapped his head back, the ceramite glowing white hot. With a snarl he blinked the shock away from his eyes and lifted his heavy calibre gun and sighted the guardsman. The traitor spat more needles of hard light at the Sergeants head and on the fourth shot his gun exploded, sending fragments of razor sharp metal scything into his chest.
Claudius sniffed inside his helmet and tracked the smoking barrel of his bolter onto another traitor, with a squeeze of the trigger the gun bucked, sending the mini warhead rocketing into the man's midriff. The massed bolter fire from three tactical squads obliterated the rush of the enemy. The heaving mass of men was cut down with such force it turned into a shattered rout, leaving some screaming for it to end amongst the piles of dead. The Marine next to Claudius took a round to the chest as he fired across the wall of corpses, the bolt round detonating against the curved and studded plate. The small explosion ripped apart the rear of the Marines bolter and seared his chest, leaving a sparking and crackling dent in the armour. Claudius snapped his head round to assess the damage, hauled the Marine to his feet and switched the firing mode of his own weapon. His targeting array chimed as it filtered a target through the haze of the battlefield. He sneered as he ordered his suit to relay the firing position through to his squad and in the second after it had been received a hail of bolt shells tore into the target. Claudius saw the power armoured form shudder under the impacts and collapse.
Then it became a fire fight, a strafing beam of radiation turned the bodies he was crouched behind into a bubbling mass of soup. He stumbled backwards, his suits thermal levels rising , warning chimes buzzing inside his helmet. Bolter fire echoed his squads, detonating in the flesh of the corpse mound and ricocheting off armoured shoulders. Claudius silently willed his weapon to ready it's charged shot, the plasma coils ribbing the top of the bolter crackling with building energy.
Howling filled the air, rising through the crack of bolter fire. Claudius cursed and relayed a message through to Saul and Diomedes on a closed vox channel.
++ Prepare for combatants brothers, seems things are about to get interesting. ++
The screech of chain blades filled the air as armoured forms rushed forward, bolter rounds streaking between them. Squad Claudius braced their weapons and tore into the line of charging lunatics, limbs detonating and torsos popping under the hail of fire. A chime echoed in his ear, coupling the scrolling message on his visor read out, Brother Cestus was ready to fire. Claudius returned the chime and coupled it with information from his tactical display. His visor flickered in opacity, darkening behind the digital display. An ear splitting whine filled the air before Cestus discharged his weapon, the whine struggling for dominance over the roar of bolter fire. A rippling display of light burst from Cestus cannon, the plasma burst warping and searing the ground it travelled over. It arched briefly before streaking into the ground amongst the charging berserkers, vaporising the brutes in a detonation that blinded surrounding guard.
More detonations erupted into the enemy from Saul and Diomedes' squads, the plasma shots bursting the enemy line open. Even the Traitor Marines who had begun to engage them rallied back, clubbing their way brutally through the guardsmen. Claudius ordered a hail of bolter fire to follow them and it broke the backs of the remaining guard, sending them fleeing head long from the walls of Kazon Hive. Claudius stood, the servos in his armour whirring. He vaulted over the wall of dead men and strode forward, sweeping his bolter back and forth. He came upon one of the World Eaters who had fired upon his position and observed the Traitor Marine struggle to unbuckle the Bolt Pistol at its hip. Claudius allowed the enemy to half draw the gun before he stamped his foot down upon his enemies hand, cracking the armour and pulping the fingers. The grille upon the enemies helm erupted in a burst of noise. Claudius leant his weight upon his foot, pinning the marine to the floor. He observed the craters punched clean through the enemies torso and predicted he had less than an hour of life left in him. Claudius outstretched his arm, tracking with his bolter from the enemies head and down his chest. With a tilt of his head he swept the weapon to the right and nodded. The gun roared twice, sending two bolts down into the Traitors elbow, exploding the joint in a splatter of meat and armour. The World Eater thrashed, its legs useless weight beneath it, howling in pain. Claudius knelt down as he heard his Marines fanning out around him. He tossed his bolter onto the blood crusted mud and gripped the World Eaters helm, he tore it from its mounts and held it before him. It was identical to his own in every way but for the colour of blood and rusted bronze. He glared down from the helmet to the pale face beneath, piercings littered the flesh and the eyes stared hate into his. This traitor resembled him on every level and it disgusted him. With a bellow he swung the helmet, bringing it down on the Traitors face with a crack. He pummelled the enemy to death with its own helm with brutal, efficient strikes. He stood, blood oozing down his own helm before coagulating in the air, with a snort of contempt he flung the helmet from his hand.
Remus thrust his foot forward, shattering a man's face then he swung his bolter, popping the chests of two guard who thought to rush him from the bunkers door. He heard the boom of bolter fire die down and Gerhet report that the immediate area had been cleared. Remus nodded to himself and slung his rifle across his shoulder plate and drawing the auspex from his belt.
++ Brother Judas, you have one minute before we vacate this area. ++
He received an affirmative and watched as the named Marine began to punch into the earth beneath their feet. He forced his gauntleted fingers into the cracked rockcrete and hauled up the slabs. Judas produced a large gun metal box from the interior of the drop pod and tore the lid from it and twisted a dial on the interface that presented itself. With a grunt of satisfaction he pushed the box into the hole he had made then moved the slabs back into place.
Gerhet sounded the retreat and Remus took off at a run, squashing a skull beneath his foot. The Marines of the command squad sprinted away from the crash site, leaving their objective buried beneath the bunker. Remus established a vox link with the Teeth of Vengeance.
++ Callisto! Fall back to Kazon Hive, we've secured the primary objective. ++
He fired from the hip, ripping apart two enemy guard. The Captain and his command had barrelled their way into the rush of retreating guard, clubbing men to death with fists and bolters. A World Eater marine fired across Remus, the bolt clipping his shoulder guard causing him to stumble. Gerhet leapt forward and with a snarl brought his clawed fist slamming into the chest of the Traitor Marine. Energy discharged across the Traitors armour, electrocuting him from the inside, his bolter discharging wildly as his fingers spasmodicly clenched. Gerhet brought his helm forward in a thundering head butt, knocking the enemy from his claws and set off, sprinting to catch up with his Captain.
The Mantle of Hate swung back and forth upon it's central axis, the assault claw pulverising whatever it connected with. A World Eater shattered upon it's claw and shards of ceramite clattered upon its sensor array. Brother Lysandros turned his head inside the the Mantle, the amniotic fluid bubbling around the tube coming out of his mouth. The metallic box clamped to the side of his head chimed a request. Listening to the Captains voice, the ancient Marine burbled into the fluid about him, his reply translated through his augmented voice box. The Mantle of Hate stomped its way in a wide circle, sending a scything beam of nuclear heat into the rout as it swept past the Dreadnought. Yellow armoured forms sprinted past the Mantle, one of them leaping to slap the side of its gun arm. The Dreadnought spun on its axis, its huge legs beginning its march towards the safety of the curtain wall as its weapon systems punished the World Eater retreat.
Honoured Brother Lysandros curled his wasted lips into a grim smirk, evidently the traitor bastards hadn't factored the Marines Malevolent into their invasion. If there was anyone in this vast galaxy that held a capacity for hatred that rivalled the minions of Khorne, it was them.