Shards of rockcrete peppered the venerable battle plate of the Space Marines, flaying lines in the heraldic paint work. The mortal soldiers of the Emperor were laced with deep cuts as the explosions that rocked the parapet of the curtain wall sent the same shards into their ranks. Demolisher cannons roared, their mechanical thumping split the air repeatedly, their shells detonating huge craters into the pitted face of the wall, the crack and snap of las weapons pierced through the cacophony of heavy ordnance, leaving a bitter taste on the air. Melta beams seared deep black lines into the looming adamantium gates, the tooled bronze effigies of the Emperor running as molten slag. The renewed assault by the traitor forces wasn't an uncoordinated rush as before, no, this time it was full of stratagem. Marines of the third crusade fired volleys of bolter rounds down into the approaching horde, exploding renegade Guardsmen. The heavy weapons of Saul and Claudius struck out, sending rippling bolts of super-heated plasma into the mass of the foe. Men melted, screaming as they were incinerated by the fluid like flames of the plasma rifles or flung in a wide arc as the heavier cannon discharged. Even the foreboding figures of the World Eaters were not spared the barrage of incandescent death. The men of the Fighting Fifth accompanied the bolter volleys with massed las gun fire, the stark needles of hard light streaking down the puncture armour and flesh alike. Grenade launchers coughed their payloads in high arcs, auto-cannon chattered as they sent explosive shells in wide arcs, heavy bolters barking as their mass reactive shells blew smoking craters into the enemy formations. The heavier turrets built directly into the wall face reached out with vengeance. Punisher pattern Gatling cannon threw unending streams of fire into the approaching ranks, men coming apart like wet paper. The wall mounted battlecannon roared as they rocked their gun mounts, macro-cannon shells screamed through the air to detonate against battle tanks or among the enemy. For all the devastating firepower the Imperial defenders brought upon the invading enemy, it seemed not to deter them from their advance as the initial strike from the Astartes had done. The reason for this was evident in the hulking red brutes that marched within the ranks of Guard, their own weapons flinging back just as much as the wall guns released. Vicious dark light beams strafed the defenders, shearing heads from shoulders and cutting deep into the plasteel weapon housings. Sergeant Claudius disengaged the link between his battle plate and his bolter, deciding he could kill more unaided. His bolter sent round after round into the foe, each shell activating its thruster system to send death hurtling forth. Brother Gaelen crouched beside him, his massive battle raiment humming and throbbing with barely controlled power, a powerful green glow suffused the massive cannon clutched between his power armoured hands.
++ Not much left in the machine, one or two shots at most before it becomes too unstable. ++
Claudius grunted his response, sighting and squeezing the trigger on his bolter. A hulking red brute recoiled backwards into the crowd, blood spraying from his shattered helm.
++ Fire until you are no longer able. ++
Gaelen acknowledged and jabbed the firing stud on the side of the weapon grip once more, gritting his teeth as the heat levels in his suit rose several degrees past tolerable, the ancient spirit within the weapon was barely holding on, it's control unraveling as the plasma containment systems over loaded. The weapon ready diagram pinged and Brother Gaelen thrust himself up, stamping a foot onto the lip of the parapet. He sighted in on a mob of World Eater marines thrusting their way forward in an effort to bring their heavy caliber guns to bear. With a snarl he fired the cannon, skidding with the eruption of blinding flare that shot from his barrel. The rippling ball of energy lost its stability just as it was about to finish its arc trajectory and instead of detonating among the Marines it covered them in a spread of green flame that sent them flailing in all directions, the armour running slick. Gaelens suit suddenly lit up with warning icons, his weapon was venting gas in savage bursts, one of them seared a bubbling stretch across his shoulder pouldron. Three words flashed across his visor with finality containment breach imminent. With a grim set to his sweating features he knew there was only one course of action left to him, he jumped out from the wall top. The Marine soared out through the air, bolts popping from his weapon mount, the klaxon blaring in his ear distorted by his rapid descent. With a grinning snarl the ground rushed up to meet him, as did the faces of the enemy.
Claudius visor darkened several shades as Gaelen's power pack detonated, sending a rippling ball of green flame out in every direction. The massive cloud of emerald death seared men and Marine into nothing but blackened mess. Claudius pursed his lips and ordered another Marine to take the fallen's place. Brother Eren slammed his shoulder into the wall top, lining his melta weapon against the scorched wall top and unleashing a beam of shimmering heat down into the enemy. Claudius leaned back from the wall long enough to drop the spent magazine from his weapon and pull a fresh one from his belt.
++ Focus your fire upon the World Eaters, thin their ranks before they reach the wall. Let the 5th battle the mortals. ++
He received squawks of acknowledgement from along the line. The intensity of fire from the Marines Malevolent doubled, heavy weapons punching down into the Traitor Marines, blowing them apart.
Warmonger Tho'kar fired indiscriminately with his bolter, snapping rounds off at any figure on the stretch of wall in-front of him. Kazon Hive was proving to be a tougher nut to crack open than the rest of it's sister Hives. Good, he thought. One of the Marines under his command went down, his chest a smoking crater from a hard light weapon. Tho'kar kicked the corpse from his way, his squad striding forwards. His Iron pattern armour was glowing white hot in places where hard light beams fizzled out on it's surface. A bolt round had shorn layers from his shoulder plate. He inhaled a heavy breath of the stink around him and snarled out his commands, his voice like that of a wolf on the moor.
++ Tho'kar demands that fire be concentrated upon his visual co-ordinates, support weapons maintain fire until Tho'kar can reach the base of the wall!++
The red and bronze behemoths around him roared their approval as the rate of fire intensified. Heavy bolter fire and Reaper cannon stitched across the wall, detonating puffs of razor shards from the parapet. The black and purple beams of the las-cannon lanced out, punching a Loyalist Marine from the wall and into the courtyard beyond. Tho'kar picked up his pace, the mortals could clog up the Imperials targeting arrays. His foot falls came heavy, his bolter swaying in his arms as he ran, his power blade clanging from his armoured thigh. The warriors of his warband clustered in around him, firing up at the wall top as they went. Vithak of the Blade had been too impatient, he'd sent his berzerkers forward without consulting the wisdom of Lord Skagroth the Undying, more importantly, Vithak had sent his men in without the support of the heavy guns. Tho'kar felt each shiver that crept up his body when the Demolisher guns fired, their deafening roar pounding the wall back bit by bit. Tho'kar would take the wall top. His warriors would all crest the wall at once. Grenades, bolter volley, then they would draw swords. They'd trained for this, they'd wished for this. The itch of the butchers nails in the back of his head began to spread, flooding his body with battle reactive chemicals. His adrenaline levels soared, his suits flickering visor unable to keep track of his bodily functions, the limiter simply not able to comprehend the levels of testosterone within him. A guttural cry of rage errupted from his lips as he went from a lopping jog into a full on sprint for the base of the wall, crushing mortals beneath his feet, killing them as he smashed them aside. His men responded and the race for the wall had begun.
Tho'kar would take the wall.
Centurion Tyrax strafed his bolter back and forth, dropping targets here and there. The venerable Mantle of Hate swung it's massive bulk about beside him, the gigantic melta cannon fixed to the side of the Dreadnought reaping a terrifying tally on the horde below. The gate was his to hold. The wave of enemy Marines and Guard was almost endless. These ones were mildly disciplined in the art of war. It would make holding the gate a challenge. Good, he thought, picking off another enemy Marine, blowing open its chest plate. Behind the gate, waiting for its eventual and inevitable fall was the Lance of Perdition and an Armoured Regiment of Kazon Russ. The rumbling roar of engines was deafened by the cannon shots being traded between the wall and the invading horde. The Lance consisted of two Predator battle tanks and one Vindicator siege tank. It's powerful cannon trained directly upon the archway, ready to fire when the gates fell. Arrayed on either side of the lance was twenty Leman Russ Battle Tanks, a mixture of Vanquisher and Exterminator patterns respectively. The push for the fallen gate would be the bloodiest fighting the Hive would have seen since the siege had begun and it was down to the armoured might of the Imperium defenders to hold it for as long as possible. They were simply arrayed to buy the defending forces enough time to retreat from the curtain wall and push through the habitation blocks and industrial sectors of Manufactorum Tertius. Once the defenders had set up their firing lines upon the second set of defensive walls, the armoured column would withdraw and bolster the second line of rumbling battle tanks a mile behind them. Remus grit his teeth as a bolt round detonated inches from his face, his head rocked sideways, his visor array fuzzing with static. He'd make the price of these walls high, the loss of his Marines in the continuation of the Long War would not be cheap.