Chapter 3: Death from Above
The mission to secure the orbitals was a success. Unfortunately the Crusade fleet was broken up as the Hive-Mind started to splinter its forces. Only the battlegroups of the Astrates, Lord Hoeth, and the original admiral are present. Not wanting to share in the glory Admiral Castor as assigned Hoeth to protecting the human occupied part of the planet while he goes and losses ships to the tyranids in an effort to drive them from the system. This has been going on for the past two months. The Imperium has managed to stabilize the lines and evacuate most of the survivors. The Dark Angles left with the bulk of the ships assigned to this crusade leaving behind the Fists and Reavers to hopefully turn the tide on the planet because Hoeth thinks, we need a miracle from the Emperor himself to fix the shitstorm that my superior has created in orbit. Still my ships have accounted for at least two dozen enemy capital ships and numerous escorts. We have also saved the lives of His people with timely orbital strikes and devastating air support.
As Hoeth stares at the planet watching his ship float around its majestic bulk Speer comes up behind him and quietly coughs. Tilting my head I give him permission to speak, "Milord we have detected a large number of civilians and a regiments worth of guardsmen located here." On the main screen Speer calls up a sector a two thousand kilometers behind enemy's line. "Apparently a force of Kasrkin, Cadians, and Elysium troopers went to secure this hive as a staging ground for raids but got cut off. Civilians who could not escape went there for safety."
"They are in a vulnerable position. I don't see how we could rescue them Speer. Still I feel though we should try. Get me the Gloria Ignatius. Let us see if the Sky Reavers will aid us."
"At once milord."
The main communication screen flicks on as the adept intones the Litany of Clarity and Hymn of Proper Function. Hoeth ignores the chattering of mechanicus adept beneath him as the communications officer on the Gloria Ignatius patches the vox transmission to the highest ranking battle-brother currently on the old modified battle barge. Waiting impatiently Hoeth is just starting to question the thought process behind making such a request when the hooded figure of a librarian enters the view screen. "I am Brother-Librarian Septentrio what is that you request Lord Admiral?"
"Brother-Librarian Septentrio I seek your chapter's aid in mounting a daring rescue mission of a regiment of guardsmen and civilians trapped behind the lines of the great devourer."
"I will ask our Brother-Captain and will contact you when I have an answer."
"Thank you sir." The vox is cut and Hoeth continues to stare at the planet not knowing that his superior on the other side has been defeated and the tyranids are preparing to overrun the rest of the planet.
"Milord," shouts one of the sensor officers, I am detecting a large number of enemy capital ships cresting the northern pole of the planet."
"By the Throne," curses Hoeth, "It seems that the enemy has dealt with that fool and now we must pick up the pieces. Also since my superior is dead I now become the Lord Admiral Militant of this battle zone. Bring the fleet to battle stations, standard line formation, release all single ships, and prepare to open fire. Order all planet side forces to begin emergency evacuation"
As the warships in orbit desperately fend off the first of many thrust by the enemy, Librarian-Epistolary Septentrio heads down to the surface of the planet to meet with Brother-Captain Zephyrus. With a crack he is teleported down to the planet outside the chapter's command post in the middle of a large makeshift airfield. Walking into the bunker he quickly returns the honorifics of a few of his battle-brothers. He hears the deep tired voice of senior Tech-Marine Skeiron has he explains the inner workings of their powerful Fire Raptor gunships to a pair of novice tech-marines. Moving past the group the Epistolary can't help by smile as waves of frustration roll off the senior marine. Reaching the center of the command bunker he sees Zephyrus standing in the middle of a hologram of the front lines and every target with fifty kilometers that the Sky Reavers can attack with their superior air assault tactics.
"Hail Brother-Captain. You look busy. I would like a moment of your time."
Looking up Zephyrus greets one of his command squad with a smile. "What do you need brother?"
"Lord Admiral Hoeth would like our aid in a daring rescue mission several thousand kilometers behind the lines. Apparently there are a large number of guardsmen and civilians trapped and he does not want to abandon them to their fate."
"How noble of the admiral. He is rarity if he cares so much about His children. Though we are not the sons of Vulcan I agree with the primarch that we must endeavor to aid the common man regardless of cost. I will devote the whole fourth company to this. Ensure that our aircraft are ready in two hours along with our battle-brothers."
"At once Zephyrus." Says Septentrio. With a salute he parts with by saying, "Ave Imperator."
To which Zephyrus replies with one of the chapter's mottos, "We are the shadow of death, descending from the skies."
As Zephyrus plans the rescue with all of diligence that is the hallmark trait of either a son of the Lion or Dorn he neither. The Astrates of the Sky Reavers are thought to be an offspring of the Ultramarines though they have nothing in common with their supposed parent chapter. They don't know their primarch but they are certain they are no sons of Guilliman. For one thing they only follow the Codex when it is convenient and their standard companies number a hundred and fifty warriors. A large number of assault and devastator marines fill their ranks as they rely on the speed and power of their drop pods and gunships to overwhelm their foes like a bolt of lightning from the heavens. Also they a have a small but powerful branch of Librarians each one of the epistolary rank are high beta level physker. Needless to say if it weren't for the exemplary combat record of the chapter than the Inquisition would have purged them long ago.
Satisfied with his plan he goes to the vox station to inform the Lord Admiral what he requires to complete Hoeth's rescue mission. Once the connection is established Zephyrus begins, "Greetings Admiral I have decided to accept your request to rescue those who have left behind. I need of you however is any and all Valkyries and Vendettas to transport the survivors to your ship. Also I want you to give my marines priority when it comes to orbital fire support. Are we clear?"
"Of course honored Captain. In addition to the transports you have my entire terrestrial air wing at your disposal. The Emperor Protects honored Captain."
Hoeth has several of operations officers plan a series of air raids and preliminary bombardments of the surrounding area. "How many transport craft do we have available," asks Hoeth. "I want to keep my promise to the Astrates gentleman." As the battle in orbit rages the warships of the Astrates begin pulling out the remaining guardsmen and civilians. All of the transports have been destroyed over the course of several months.
"We have enough vehicles to outfit a full guard regiment still in the hold Milord." Answers one of the operations planners. "We have enough transports if we use our shuttles. We can then lift out the projected number of survivors in one flight. The problem will the amount of tyranid air cover and aerial defenses."
"We will deal with the defenses from here in orbit. This mission must go perfectly and quickly or we risk our own deaths for nothing."
The situation in orbit is going from bad to worse. The ships that have suffered heavy damage in orbit are holding position half way to the jump point to cover the expected retreat. Half of Hoeth's ships are guarding the cripples as crews struggle to fix their warships. A short break in the action is all the opportunity Hoeth needs, he orders the mission Emperor's Mercy to commence. The Sword of Asgardia turns parallel to the planet and opens fire. Everything within two hundred kilometers of the besieged fortress is scorched by Imperial might. From the cavernous launch bays thousands of Avengers, Thunderbolts, Lightnings stream toward the planet escorting the necessary Valkyries, Vendettas, and Argus transports.
On the airfield the Fourth Company of the Sky Reavers assemble before their storm eagles, fire raptor gunships and the a single thunderhawk heavy gunship. The one hundred and forty marines stand as still as statues behind the formations stand the four Dreadnaughts of the chapter. All are waiting for the Brother-Captain to give his pre-battle speech. The command squad approaches the flight line it consists of Captain Zephyrus, Standard Bearer Brother Notus, Brother-Librarian Septentrio, Senior Tech-Marine Skeiron, Brother-Apothecary Eurus, and Brother-Champion Olympias. Zephyrus sets forward and begins, "Brothers we are going to rescue a group of His subjects that have survived behind enemy lines since the beginning of this campaign. It is His Will we are doing. His Guidance we are following. For He made us of iron will and steel sinew. We are all that stands between humanity and the darkness. As He foresaw the terror and created the Astrates to be the Defenders of Humanity. His Trust was placed in us. We are His Fury born upon the wings of His Wrath and the Tyranids will know of us and they will fear us. We however shall not fear them or death because we fight in His Name. He decreed that they shall know no fear. Ave Imperator." With that he finishes and moves to his personal storm eagle.
The rest of the company presents arms and shouts back, "We are the shadow of death, descending from the skies." With that ritual complete the sergeants barking can be heard over the transports engines as the Astrates move to their assigned ships. The four dreadnaughts head to the thunderhawk. The aircraft engines spool up and the whine turns to a loud roar as they take off in unison the seven storm eagles form a loose diamond centered on the thunderhawk as a flight of eight fire raptor medium gunships fly in a wide crescent in front of the transports. While two dozen stormtalon light gunships dart ahead of the main body hunting for threats.
Climbing above the ash choked sky the Sky Reavers form up the aircraft sent from the orbiting battleship. Zephyrus orders the fighters to create a 30km dead zone around the target area as his men engage the primary zone. Flying across the continent was a long slow battle of attrition for the Imperium. Dozens of airborne tyranids waves attacked the formation. Each time they were driven back by the fearless navy pilots at the cost of their own lives. Thankfully they are flying in the upper atmosphere allowing for the space born furies to assist in the air superiority mission. Slightly less than halfway to the objective the Sky Reavers have already dawned their jump packs. A hall mark of their chapter every marine regardless of class is an assault marine. The chapter's forge-priest had to get creative in finding a way for the devastator marines to retain their heavy weapons while still being mobile.
As they approach the hive the stormtalons detect several clusters of carnifexi stationed on the outskirts of a massive cathedral. The light gunships drop down to the deck and hide behind several low outcroppings of rocks as they communicate with Zephyrus. Over the vox they inform the captain, "The carnifexi milord seem to form an anti-air perimeter we while provide target coordinates to the gunships sir." The fire raptors break formation and move to surround the drop zone, two gunships per carnifex cluster. As one they enter a swooping dive at the living engines of destruction. The carnifexi response instantly to the presence of the gunships, they spread out and aim their devour cannons at the approaching warplanes. The fire raptors simply hover outside of the range of their cannons and open fire.
The sky is alight with the yellow red tracers as the raptors unleashed the fury of their avenger bolt cannons. As the carnifexi suffer under withering hail of fire. Their thick hides are covered in numerous puncture wounds. Roaring they charge, leaving a spray of black ichor in their wake, trying to get within striking distance of the gunships. As they are drawn away from the cathedral's perimeter. Leaving half their number as lifeless corpses the stormtalons pop up and unleash blasts of lascannons. The thick beams lance into the rear hides of the carnifexi, burning through their thick carapace with ease. With the air defenses killed the stormtalons resume their scout work.
The fire raptors enter into a high orbit around the drop zone their side mounted turrets laying down a wall of armor piercing shells. The storm eagles swoop through the cordon around the cathedral their missile batteries tear through the swarm of gaunts and warriors assaulting its walls. Hovering the eagles maintaining a blistering barrage of shot and shell as their assault ramps open. The Sky Reavers jump, on pillars of fire they descend into the horde. As they land their bolters and plasma rifles unleash the His wrath. The devastators land on the battlements sweeping them clear of the horde with their heavy bolters and plasma cannons melting the large combat forms. The thunderhawk lands in the courtyard and the dreadnaughts walk onto the field of battle. Their vox caster at the maximum limit, "WARRIORS OF THE EMPEROR. YOUR SALVATION IS AT HAND. FIGHT IN HIS NAME." The dreadnaughts storm the breached gates their assault weapons buzzing with a harsh whine as they deal death down range. Any tyranid heavy bioform is burned by the lascannon emplaced on Wildegraf, the company's venerable dreadnaught. Their power claws flash with lighting as they carve through the scything talons and chitinous armor of the swarm.
In the center of the melee stands the command squad, surrounding their position is a large pile of corpses. The company's banner bearing a pair of talons clutching lightning bolts descending from the clouds flutters in the breeze. Their plasma pistols and power weapons hot with use and stained with the ichor. With the devotion to their emperor as their armor and His hate as their weapons they seek out the elites of the horde to slay them. "Brothers," shouts Olympias, "The Hive Tyrant and its guard approaches. Steel yourself brothers this will a true test of abilities." Striding onto the battlefield striking down guardsmen and Astrates alike the Hive Mind has sent his avatar to deal with this problem personally. The battle has entered its climax as the two elites stare each other down to determine the fate of those trapped in the cathedral.
Conducting continual flight operations for the past five hours straight has been taxing for the Lord Admiral. That however is the least of Hoeth's concern. The Hive Fleet has been slowly pushing them back. "Tell the Astrates on the planet that they two hours to leave before we are forced to enact exterminatus." The vox officers quickly relay that message and the air lift taking the civilians and guardsmen is redoubled. Over the course of a half hour they could most of the guardsmen and half of the civilians off the planet. The other half has been shot down either Harridan super heavy fliers or the guns of the swarming escort's squadron that are attacking the two battleships. A pair of leviathan hive ships push their way through to the edge of our orbital path. With several dozen more capital ships behind them.
"Brothers," Zephyrus commands over the vox, "Begin a fighting withdrawal. We have succeed in following His Will now we must survive to attain victory. The dreadnaughts and the command squad will delay the enemy. The Emperor Protects." As the tactical squads begin leap frogging back to the landing zones the dreadnaughts form a firing line with the devastators to hold back the wave of death that it fast approaching. Turning to his chosen battle-brothers Zephyrus continues over the vox, "We have one last creature to kill before we leave. Deal with its guardians, I will takes its head."
The Hive Tyrant's warrior primes roared their challenge and charged the marines. The first one fell in an instant, its burned and smoking corpse slowly melts as the plasma eat through its toughen hide. Its sacrifice to the command squad's plasma weapons allows the other two primes to enter a vicious close range dance of death. Skeiron mechadendrites whip around with enough force to throw a rhino tank several meters, the warrior jinks at the last possible moment dodging the blow. It was pushed back as another mechanical limb unleashes a wall of fire from its attached flamer.
Hissing it leaps the flames bring its bone sword done in a powerful overhead strike, it is stopped with a mighty clash as it hits the power sword of Olympias. The marine was pushed several inches into the ground from the forces of the blow. As his armor is straining to withstand the power of the warrior's blade, Olympias shouts, "For the Emperor." As he pushes the hell spawn back. A fine mist of gravel is sprayed as he shoves the warrior off balance. Skeiron lunges with his thunder hammer intent on crushing the beast's chest, the warrior rolls out of the way kicking Olympias in the chest. The Astrates is thrown several meters and gets up with a grunt as the air is forced past the broken rib plate into damaged lungs. Without pause he charges back into the fray and deftly slices off the creatures tail as it was going to sweep Skeiron legs out from under him. Roaring with pain the warrior fights with increased fury. The three combatants trade thunderous blow after thunderous blow. As they break apart the Warrior is bleeding from a dozen cuts and has a portion of his leg smashed. Skeiron mechanical limbs hang useless at his side and his right pauldron is missing along with a large chunk of flesh. Olympias is bleeding freely from a crack chest plate and his helmet lays in pieces, some shards on the ground others imbedded in his skull.
Olympias shouting, "We are the shadows of death," as he rushes the creature blocking each blow of its bone swords. "Descending from the sky," he roars as he severs its primary sword arm. This has left the creature vulnerable.
Skeiron leaps at the hissing warrior, "We are His Fury born upon the wings of His Wrath," he shouts as he brings his thunder hammer down on the warriors head. It explodes in a fountain of ichor. At that exact moment its talons shoot out impaling both marines. Skeiron pulls living spear from his leg and grunts as his Astrates physiology begins to heal the damage. Olympias already weaken from blood loss catches the lance straight in the chest. He gives a gurgled cry as the living weapon pierces two of lungs and crushed one of his hearts. Skeiron slices the appendage from the creature and shouts for the apothecary to aid his fallen brother.
Notus taking the standard off his back, spears into the ground. Drawing his ancient master-crafted chainsword, he stares defiantly at the warrior without fear. Septentrio wields his force staff, and has gathered his physic might. His eyes are alight with blue-white tendrils of power. He holds lighting in his hand as the runes on his physic hood glow red trying to resist the lure of insanity and possession as the Brother-Librarian draws on the immaterium. Gnashing his teeth Septentrio finds the very presence of the tyranids painful to his warps senses, regardless of the risk he weaves his powers into a potent possibility shield around Notus and works the veil of time upon himself.
With a defiant bellow both marines charge the warrior. Ducking under the expected scything talon Septentrio swings his force staff in a powerful backhand, cleaving the blade from the warrior's shoulders. With a roar of agony the warrior lashes out with its other talon cracking the ground in front of the Librarian throwing him aside in a shower of debris. The warriors whip cracks out and ensnares Notus leg. Instead of waiting to be pulled from his feet he fires a quick burst of plasma at the tentacle. He missed but the orb of liquid energized matter hits the chitin.
The warrior released his hold and attacked with an undercut from his bone sword. The blade catches Notus in the chest knocking him back and cracking his rib plate. Getting up he spits some blood at the warrior, who responses with a salvo of poisoned bards. Before they strike the grizzled centuries old marine they are melted by bursts of lighting. Septentrio turns to the warrior shouting his devotion to the Emperor he forges the avenger, an avatar of death made up of the souls of dead battle-brothers.
The fiery construct charges the warrior, who dodges it effortless and impales it with its talon. As the warrior struggles with the avatar, his other hand wields his bone sword with lethal precision stabbing both marines several times in the thinner armor covering their joints. Septentrio channels the warp into his arm turning it to iron. He grabs the bone sword, stopping it from removing his head and immobilizing the warrior. Notus cleaves into the arm holding the xenos blade. His chainsword's adamantium teeth swiftly find purchase in the thick chitin armor. With a whirling sound the chainsword bites deep into the limb black ichor spraying wildly. Pushing with all of his might Notus severs the limb. The warrior throws them off and jumps back arm still bleeding. A moment's hesitation on the creature's part proves fatal as Septentrio uses Might of the Ancients and propels himself at the warrior in a blink of an eye. Impaling the creature through the back his force staff cleaves through flesh, armor, and bone. It slams into the ground spitting the warrior and trapping him for execution. The force staff is channeling so much energy that it begins to boil the ichor streaming from the wound. Writhing in agony it is a release when Notus beheads the howling beast.
As the command squad limps out of the way, the Hive Tyrant stares at Zephyrus in broken gothi,c the words are more felt then heard, "The Hive mind wishes you dead, I am its instrument," It disconnects its venom cannon and throws it into the dust. Drawing its twin bone swords it readies itself for combat.
"You have chosen your executioner xeno," replies Zephyrus. He holsters his plasma pistol and draws a matching set of power swords that dates back to the great crusade. These weapons were reported to be forged by either the Manus of the Iron Hands or the Emperor himself. Their intended bearer is lost to the passage of time, the only clue is a small message craved into the pummel it reads, glories that will be discovered. He lunges at the tyrant shouting, "For the Empire!"
Zephyrus knows that the tyrant is stronger and faster, after their first pass of blades his armor is broken at the shoulder, a deep stab wound. The Tyrant has a long diagonal slash going from shoulder to waist. Zephyrus darts in both blades seeking an opening their power fields burst on contact as the tyrant creates a bioelectric field around himself. Laughing the xenos parries each attack with little effort, it lashes out with a straight kick that cracks the chest plate of the power armor. Though falling throw the air Zephyrus stabilizes his flight and lands in a skidding crouch. Charging again he lefts the xeno use the same pattern to defend against his strikes, sensing the counter he throws himself to the right narrowly missing the bone sword's wicked blade, twisting he pins the sword against some rubble and severs the tyrants arm. Leaping straight up he avoids a disemboweling downward slash from its other hand. Activating his jump pack he soars upward. Turning in midair he dives, his shadow covering the tyrant obscured in the exhaust cloud. He crashes into the creature shouting, "We are the shadow of death, descending from the skies!" Startled the tyranid lord looks up just Zephyrus rams his blades into the creatures neck and back the ground beneath gives way, creating a crater several meters wide and several meters deep.
The tyrant roars in pain as it tries to shake off the marine. Its tail whipping around, reaps a fearsome toll as it stabs repeatedly into Sky Reavers back and legs. Grunting in pain, Zephyrus twists the blades drawing the wounds deeper into its vitals, ichor streaming steadily down the creatures back. In its death throes it stabs blindly at the marine, hitting the astrates below the jump pack severing his spine. Before Zephyrus losses consciousness he can feel the creature die underneath him.
Zephyrus does not feel his most trusted brothers rush him back to the storm eagle for high above the planet the Writ of Exterminatus is commencing. On the battle-barge the serf crew loads a full spread of two-stage cyclonic torpedoes for launch. Over the Vox Hoeth begins, "As the Lord Admiral Militant of this Crusade, in fealty to the God-Emperor (our undying Lord) and by the Grace of the Golden Throne, I declare Exterminatus upon the Imperial World of Scipio VI. I hereby sign the death warrant of an entire world and consign a million souls to oblivion. May Imperial Justice account in all balance. The Emperor Protects." With the writ finished the Gloria Ignatius opens fire, six three hundred meter long torpedoes hurtle toward the scorched earth of what was a thriving world, now only a barren hell spawn infest wasteland. As the planet killing weapons enter the atmosphere, the Sky Reavers are leaving low orbit seeking refuge to weather to coming storm. The torpedoes activate their melta-charges and plunge into the surface. Burrowing for hundreds of kilometers the exploded. The planet cracks along its fault lines as magma is shot out from the planet. Unable to contain the titanic energies the planet is shattered into millions of pieces creating a massive asteroid field. The Imperial ships now race to warp jump point to avoid the rest of the tyranid fleet.
Hoeth's ship alone hears the faint vox transmission of the Sky Reavers, turning around he heads back to recover the marines. As he does that a leviathan hive ship bears down on the Asgardia. Both battleships trade broadsides as Hoeth tries to find the marines. The longer ranged guns of the Emperor class have scored a critical hit on its engines slowing the creature. Hoeth not caring about the report his gunnery officer is giving points at a spot in space and yells, "There. Send our recon flight there." The planes are sent and quickly return shepherding the survivors of the Sky Reavers Fourth Battle Company back to the safety of the Asgardia. As soon as they are back aboard Hoeth orders, "All head full to the jump point."
Starting a running battle with a dozen of devourer vessels. Speer is beneath me coordinating damage control. I am still standing in the pulpit watching my command by shot out from underneath me. Halfway to the safe jump, ten minutes away from any major gravity well. It is time to clear a path. "Cut power to all unnecessary systems. 180 degree turn on my mark. Reroute the extra power to the maneuvering thrusters and weapons." Before I can finish a salvo of bio-plasma spines scores a direct hit on a starboard gun battery, the decompression throws the ship violently. I hit the edge of pulpit with a sharp crack, my arm is broken. Gritting my teeth, I take my sash and fashion a rough tourniquet. "Don't straighten out. Follow the turn and when we have that bastard in our sights let fly with everything and then emergency warp jump. If this continues then we won't make it to the jump point."
My crew thinks I am crazy but I know this will work it has to work. I stand in grim silence, reciting prayers to the Emperor over and over in my mind. The ships turn smooth's out and the leviathan is almost within boarding range. The gunnery officers are counting down and once they hit zero the entire right side is engulfed in flames as every weapon system is fired in quick recharge mode. The heavy plasma rounds burn the creatures spore clouds away. The multi-ton macro-shells carve into its thick armored hide. Its physic shrieks of pain resound in our head. Numerous fires break out as the second salvo rams into its weakening hull. The final plasma beams burn into its reactors releasing a localized supernova as we jump.