To The Last Man [RP Thread]
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A claxon sounded somewhere inside the bunker, as far as Commissar Falkirk was concerned it was just another small assault force from the Orks outside. He sighed, taking a long sip from his small supply of cognac and setting the heavy drink on a steel table in front of him. Outside, the roaring of gunfire erupted, deafened slightly by the steel encompassing him within the defensive structure. A light patter of footstep sounded outside followed by brisk knocking, "Come in." He said tiredly, he hadn't slept much within the last few days and it was starting to take its toll.
The man who walked in was no man at all, but a boy, a soldier, So young... He thought, briefly pondering how old the boy might be before he spoke up professionally,
"Sir," He saluted formally, Falkirk waved the gesture away, "The Orks are attacking the outer trenches, small shock teams, must be around three score of them."
A small attack, no doubt just another grind on the defenses.
"I'm aware that a Captain Rallbi-"
"He's dead, Sir." The boy said rather toneless, his face going a white pale. Falkirk inhaled deeply, his mind processing what had just been confronted to him. Captain James Rallbie had been a close friend of his, and to think that he too was dead? He slowly got up, stretched and nodded to the boy,
"Thank you," He indicated to the bottle on the table, "Sit and relax, drink what you may." The boy seemed hesitant at first but saluted and sat upon the cushioned chair the Commissar had previously occupied.
The sound of battle was dying off as the Orks were apparently being driven back. He reached for his long trenchcoat and Commissar's cap that were hanging on a banister just to the side of the table. He set the cap on straight and adjusted the coat until it was comfortable. With a nod to the boy he opened the thick steel door and stepped into the bunkers hallway. Eager juniour officers were racing about on business on their own, reporting causalities, supply listings, maps, transmissions, a whole slew of things was going on in the command bunker. Guards stood rigidly at attention at various checkpoints and saluted as he walked by.
"Ah, Commissar Falkirk." A voice said behind him. He turned now to face a stern looking man in a prim Krieg officer's dress uniform.
"Lieutenant Fernz, I was not expecting you to be down here, I thought you were posted on active duty up top?"
"No Commissar," A thin smile played across the mans face, "There was a last minute... change. I was set to HQ duty, recording maps and such." With each change of sentence his eyes grew narrower and narrower, Falkirk seemed sketched yet held his tongue,
"What is it you wanted?" He was urgent to get up top and see how things were for himself, the Lieutenant nodded getting to business.
"Sir, as you are aware Captain Rallbie is dead." He flinched inwardly at the comment but nodded to the Liuetenant, "Has a replacement been found yet?"
Falkirk cursed the man, he wasn't saddened by the mans death but merely wanted a damned promotion, he smiled, "I have not, the news has only reached my ears, a replacement... well, I shall have to see to that now shall I?" The game of military politics was an interesting one to play, and Falkirk had learned the trick of the trade with many long hard years of service. The Lieutenant seemed fairly disappointed but also returned a smile, albeit a faint one and saluted carrying on with his business.
Commissar Falkirk reached the exit tunnel of the underground bunker, streams of Guards were checking tags, passes, and other means of idenifcation with those who were leaving and entering the HQ. They moved aside to allow the Commissar to pass as he exited the exposed opened hatchway of the Command Bunker.
Outside the air was cruel and hard, though not altogether cold, it had the chill of death on it - far more cooler than any hard winter. Medical tents, forward operation posts, and other similar faciliates were set up at stragetic points all throughout the inner sanctum of the fortress, The Colosseum. Ah, The Colosseum, an ingenious work of Kriegsmen who had such knowledge in siege warfare.
The entire base was built on hilltop, with a vast network of tunnels connecting below for storage of weapons and supplies. The Command bunker was located in the centre of the complex, a block of dirty steel in the brown wasteland. A fierce battlement had been strewn together along the outside of the hill, with various fire steps to be used. Dug in mortar pits and artillery batteries had been constructed as well, the various crews could be seen cleaning and arming weapons, always at the ready for an Ork attack. Outside the battlements a fierce set up of trenches had been dug in, that was where the bloodiest of the fighting was taking place, out in the cruel barren wasteland of 'Planet V'.
He cursed the campaign, Falkirk was beginning to realise him and his men had no purpose other than to die out here in this damned wasteland, he shoved his hands into his coat pockets and set off into the encampment. Dirty and ashenfaced soldiers looked up to him, nodding and saluting. The men of Krieg respected him for his leadership abilities, feared him for his odd manner, and loved his stern outward look at life. He had never once raised his pistol to a man who did not truly deserve it, and the men respected that in him.
A wind was blowing that day, causing strands of loose sand and dirt to rise into the air, smudging across his face. His men were covered in the stuff and he made a mental note to try and provide more ample cleaning utilities, otherwise they shall all die of disease rather than stand against the greenskins. His face then turned to a scowl.
He hated these vile Orks who's only mission in life was to kill and maim. He was tired of fighting but knew he was destined for an eternity of it with such barbaric monsters like these foul greenskins. He hated them with a strong passion, they had ruined his life and he'd be sure as hell to make them pay.
"Commissar?" A trooper had been watching him, he had been talking to himself again out loud.
"Nothing soldier, nothing. Where is the remainder of Rallbie's men?" The soldier looked sadly at the ground, Captain Rallbie had been a favourite amongst the troops and he pointed over to a beaten batch of troops that were huddled around a dirty fire. The Commissar nodded his thanks to the young man and set off in the direction of the fire, he looked towards the skies, Emperor damn this, but at least give him strength to live another day.
Kagmar sighed in relief they had driven back the greenskins for now sadly he had lost a good man, Private Persus.
He then started to go back to base when he saw in the distance a huge line of ork battlewagons he started running to base so that he could alert Commisar Falkirk
Horus pulled his sword out of a dead ork and stabbed it into the ground to clean from the blood. "Triden, you got fire?" he asked the soldier standing next to him, pulling out a cigarette. Puffing out the smoke, he looked around the battlefield. "Look at that savage. Is she drinking the blood of these damn creatures?" Horus followed the gaze of one of his soldiers to a woman leaning over one of those wretched orks. "You're right soldier, she is. Typical cultist." He sighed, looking into another direction. "Look at that. There's Kagmar running like he's seen a ghost. Seems like the action isn't quite over yet." he said pointing towards a figure racing over the bodies of the fallen.
Sandara stood up, grinning. She looked around, searching for more filth to drink dry and spotted one of those soldiers running towards their lines. It seemed like there was more more blood to be spilled and drunk in the name of the emperor. Good she thought to herself licking her lips. She was still thirsty.
Falkirk's gaunt face shone out in the grimey air, ahead of him he saw his men celebrating their victory against the Orks. Suddenly, he saw a soldier running towards him, waving his arms and pointing towards something in the distance. He turned his gaze, following the finger of the trooper and saw a slew of Ork battlewagons accompanied by infantry support roaring towards their lines. Instantly, he reached for his bolt pistol concealed underneath his cloak and drew his chainsword, pressing a rune that activated it, whirring in the afternoon breeze.
"To arms men of Krieg, to arms!" He roared out, raising his chainsword into the air. Death Korps soldiers ran towards the defensive positions, heavy bolters from set positions spat out death into the oncoming green skin offensive. A few missile launcher crews set up firing positions and loaded up their weapons preparing to fire into the battle wagons when they got within range.
He nodded to the soldier who smirked back at him, he called over his shoulder to a man who was smoking a cigarette, "You there, get your men up here to the line!" He snapped into action after giving his order, racing up towards the pickett defense. Already, Krieg soldiers in the forward trenches were opening fire onto the Orks, who were being mowed down by carefully placed shots of lasrifles. The Battlewagons opened up as well, strange Orkish weaponary poked off all around the truck, the heavy and stranged armour behemouths with dancing and firey greenskins shooting everything they had at the Krieg lines.
Falkirk ducked low behind a paraphet, firing over the lip with his bolt pistol and barking out orders to his men who raced into action. A nearby section of the wall exploded as one of the Ork missiles cracked against the battlement, bodies flew in all directions. Limbs and blood spewed against the ground and Falkirk's face tensed, blood and death were to be expected in each campaign and yet it always seemed to affect him in a strange way when he saw it. A mans life was gone, everything he was or worked for now erased in the blink of an eye, his spark of defiance blinked out of the universe for all eternity...
Another explosion rocked the battlements, a soldier had pushed Falkirk to the ground in order to protect him from the shrapnel. He pushed the troopers body off of him and called out, "Medic! I need a medic!" The trooper that had saved his life was bleeding horribly from his spinal column, groaning in agony. He smiled broadly, "You are one brave idiot." The soldier merely chuckled.
He stood up now, getting a better assesment of the carnage, the Orks had reached the trenches, and fierce inferno's of close quarter combat was ensuing. "Launchers, focus fire on the battlewagons, mortar teams, hit just behind the trench lines and pick off any stragglers, bolter teams pin down the bastards that are closing in!" The troops responded, firing and running about their business.
The guardsmen were pelting the Ork troops with everything they had, yet the greenskins just kept on coming, hordes of them roaring and slithering forward creating a mockery of life. Falkirk hated them, and picked off shots individually, he wasn't precisely sure if he was getting any kills, but it was that thought that counted. In the corner of his eye he saw distant movement, and focused, bringing up his field glasses to get a more clear view. The Orks seemed to be setting up a large cannon behind a rocky outcropping just outside of the line of fire from the main Krieg infantry line, whatever it was, it was going to cause a lot of trouble for the Imperial defenders. He swore, the Orks always seemed to be coming up with new means of death and destruction.
"I need a squad of volunteers, now! The greenskins are setting something up and we need to stop them from finishing it, who's coming with me?" He called out to the men, raising his chainsword in the air. Already the Ork assault would break through the trench lines, but the men of Krieg would stand firm, they had now for months - it was that damned cannon that could win it for those bastards, and Commissar Falkirk wasn't about to let that happen.
With whirling blades Sandara leaped into a group of orks, oblivious to the heavy bolter fire raining into her surroundings. Greenskin blood was everywhere. To make it short Sandara was enjoying herself.
Firing a round from his Hellpistol Horus charged into the fray, slicing greenskins apart while his men gave him fire support with their Hellguns. Falling back to his men, he sheathed his sword and used his now free hand to inform Falkirk that he would join his little squad if Falkirk could make it to his position which was now nearly overrun. " Let's show 'em what we're made of boys!!!" with that Horus drew his sword once more to batter the greenskins with it.
Kagmar put on his gas mask, drew his laspistol and fired two shots, killing two battlewagon gunners. Hearing a grunt behind him he turned around only to have his pistol torn out of his hand by a loathsome Ork.
Drawing his power sword he charged at the Ork and slashed at it with his power sword. As the Ork fell, blood gushig out of its wound a woman rushed over clearly enjoying herself and started slashing at the Ork with two blades, Kagmar recognised her as a Death Cult assasin.
Sickened Kagmar turned away so he could kill more Orks.
(Please ask me first before using my chars)
Sandara laughed hysterically as she slashed the ork apart: "Die filth!" She then turned towards the rest of the mob still laughing. As the first ork stormed forward she leaped onto him and bit his neck, slurping the greenskins blood greedily. Sandara then tore free from the gurgling ork, bits of flesh still between her teeth.
Horus spat the cigarette out his mouth. "No use in waiting for that coward boys" he said motioning towards the battle raging a bit farther of "Seems like that weekling Kagmar needs some support. With that he and his squad began moving over the dead greenskins towards the fray, nodding short salutes to the heavy bolter crew who had helped them defeat the foul creatures so quickly.
Kagmar saw horus and his men coming towards and cursed, they were probably laughing at him.
"Stupid bastards I'll show them what a man of Krieg is made of." he muttered resentfully. People from other worlds generally distrusted him as he was created usin the vitae womb technique.
with a resentful glance at Horus he rallied some fleeing men and charged at the Orks.
Sandara spotted the big ork as it emerged from a battle wagon. "Yeeeeesssssss at last a worthy enemy. I shall drink you dry in the name of the emperor." Forgetting about the rest of the mob she walked towards the greenskin, adrenalin flowing through her veins she slashed apart all in her way, nearly decapitating Kagmar.
Horus couldn't help laughing as he saw how the bewildered Kagmar dodged out of the way of the assassin. "Alright men concentrate fire on all filth that attacks the assassin, she may be disgusting but it could be that she eliminates that big greenskin over there. It's carrying some kind of heavy bolter and I don't want to see what damage it does when fired. If we fire at it we may tempt it to use that thing but the assassin may be able to bring the filth down in close combat." With that he charged into battle while his men shot every ork even near Sandara.
Kagmar and a small band of men charged at the greenskins and slew many of them with many of their own number falling until only three remained. Then Kagmar saw it, a huge cannon big enough to destroy the Colloseum if it was able to fire.
"DESTROY THE CANNON!!" Shouted Kagmar and his men
Sandara had engaged the enormous ork and the two of them were battling it out in close combat.
Horus was in the middle of the battle right beside Kagmar "Hey Kagmar you and your men destroy the cannon while me and my squad keep your back covered, okay?"
Falkirk nodded in admiration to his men as they repelled the brunt attack from the Greenskins. A few soldiers had joined us assault group and he led them around the main battle line to come around the flank to where the cannon was being set up.
It was set inbetween two narrow cliff edges, a band of Orks were arguing in their brutish language as to who would get to fire it. Covered by the loud roaring of battle, the Imperial troops descended upon the Orks like a plague. "For the Imperium!" Falkirk roared out, raising his chainsword high into the air and firing into an Orks skull point blank with his bolt pistol, it imploded and then exploded as the bullet entered and exited the cranium. Blood and brain spewed all over Falkirk but he ignored it and continued on with the slaughter. His assault team fired trained las shots at the Orks who fell in droves trying to escape or charge them, finally, the last Ork fell, Falkirk rammed his chainsword deep into the beasts spinal column, felt bone and flesh twist and tear, then ripped the blade outward in an arc, slicing its back open. He grimaced, Orks truly disgusted him.
His team secured the cannon, forming a small defensive perimeter but they had no real reason to, the Orks were to drawn to the main battle ensuing by the fortress to deal with this small brigand band. "What is it?" One of the troopers asked curiously, Falkirk pondered. It seemed to be an odd sort of weapon, the metals were crudely strewn together as the Orks did, but there was something foreign about it, something...
Chaos. The word entered and exited his mind in an instant and his stomach turned with the thought. He couldn't prove the work of Chaos had anything to do with this piece of weaponry, but there was something definatley foreign to it.
"Let's wheel this back lads." He nodded to his troops who slung their lasrifles and proceeded to attempt to push it. It wouldn't budge, it was to heavy, they'd need a crane of some sort in order to move it. Falkirk cursed his ill fortune, loading a fresh clip into his bolt pistol he sighed, "We'll have to deal with the greenskins first and then deal with this."
"Aye, sir, why don't we use it against them?" An interesting suggestion from a recruit, he nodded.
"I don't see why not, however, does anyone have any exp-"
"It doesn't look difficult, much like a cannon we're familiar with," The excited trooper spoke up, his face was fat and round, he was beaming from ear to ear, "See? The ammo is lifted into this rear compartment, this bolt here is pushed back and then it seems this trigger here is pulled and the gun fires." As he spoke he indicated the various objects on the gun, Falkirk rubbed his chin in thought. It was a xenos weapon, his code went against using such things, but they needed to reduce casaulities as much as possible...
"Use it, get a team and use it." The trooper saluted and began giving out orders to the men.
"Lift that shell and set it in, like that, good, good, okay now you two pull back the reciever... that's it. Careful! This thing might blow up in our hands if we do it wrong, okay, now, I think you just pull this trigger here like th-" A massive boom resounded off the cliff edges to their left and right, Falkirk's hands instinctively reached to protect his ears. In all his years of combat he had never heard such a loud shot before, damned greenskins. The bullet smashed into the rear of the Ork lines and did nothing,
"A dud..." One of the soldiers spoke up, his voice full of disappointment. Falkirk had expected nothing less from a xenos gun, and shook his head in respite. As if on cue however, something happened. A bright flash shot off into the air from the area the shell had impacted, soaring and then exploding in mid-air. The ground below quaked and then suddenly and without warning burst into an inferno of fire. The Orks who were unlucky enough to be trapped in the area of effect burned alive, their skin literally melting from their bones. A few of the battlewagons merely exploded or melted along with the dying Orks.
Falkirk and his squad looked on in grim silence, the devastion that was occuring was to much to bear and one of the soldiers gasped. The Commissar nodded, "Such is the way with Orks." Was all he had to say, the rest nodded.
The Ork offensive broke as they realised what had just happened, they fought with less daemonar and the ferocious charge led by Horus and his men had completely broken any major forward thrust the greenskins had left. Krieg infantrymen opened fire from the fortress battlements, the greenskins however were fighting to the last. Falkirk led his men from the flank and joined in the carnage, raising his bolt pistol he landed a few shots into the backs of some greenskins, his men doing the same with lasrifles. He came about with his chainsword as one of the Orks turned to fight him, slicing horizontally he caught the beast in the lower abdomen, it growled and reached out to grab him but Falkirk was quick and aimed his pistol at the Ork, squeezing the trigger and watching in satisfaction as the greenskins head exploded in a fountain of gore.
It didn't take long before the last of the greenskins fell, there battlewagons flaming wrecks out in the dirty badlands. The Commissar nodded as his men cheered in victory, his smile was empty but he smiled nonetheless. He had no feeling for war anymore, especially joyful ones.
"Sergeant," He turned to a nearby Krieg trooper who nodded, "Get a team and a truck and pick up a gun that we found that the greenskins planned to use for further examination." The trooper seemed confused but Falkirk grinned, "You'll understand soon enough, hop to it." With a brief 'Yes, Sir!' the Sergeant ran off barking out orders. Falkirk was tired, he hadn't slept at all these past few days, unending Ork offensives saw to that. He was running on caffeine and energy pills and it was taking its toll, he knew he'd need sleep soon but couldn't find the time. His weary face and body shook as he entered the main fortress walls, the men were celebrating but Falkirk knew it was only a minor victory, the Orks would come again, and again, and again...
He sighed, and reached for a pack of cigarettes in his coat pocket, realising they were not there he cursed under his breath. In the distance he heard the low rumbling of an Imperial truck setting off towards the cliffs to pick up the Ork weapon, he stretched, informing the Minostorum priests would be no easy matter and he'd be lucky if they even allowed him into their sanctuary at all, the introverted bastards. He chuckled to himself, setting off in the direction of the Minostorum supply checkpoint, sheathing his chainsword in a black leather carrier at his side and placing the bolt piston in its own holster, concealed underneath his dark grey coat.
Horus managed to catch up with Falkirk, who was heading towards the Minostorum supply checkpoint. "What is going on in your head? Why have you ordered to bring the weapon into our base? Was it at least checked for bombs?"
Sandara lay in one of the many trenches looking up to the clouds. She was bored. Nothing to drink and nothing to slay. In her opinion, this was the worst part of war: waiting for the enemy to attack again. Slowly she got up and fell down again, sighing, she might as well get some sleep.
At the sound of the mans voice, Falkirk turned to face an angry looking Krieg soldier. "Ah, Sergeant Horus." He had learned the mans name well throughout this three month conflict, he was constantly at his throat about just any command or order that he gave. He knew the man disliked him but he had done his best to get along with him, his commanding skills, bravery, and combat prowess were much respected amongst the ranks and he knew the men respected him. "No need to worry," He nodded as the Imperial truck that contained the Ork weapon was driven towards the checkpoint, "We got in close enough to it, had our examination, and even fired the bloody thing." He watched solemnly as a gentle breeze flew across his face. The strange red sun was setting over the planet and four moons were rising over the horizon. It was a beautiful spectacle even in such a crude and horrific location, Falkirk couldn't help by marvel at the beauty of nature.
"Sergeant Horus," He now returned his attention to the disgruntled trooper, "What is the casaulty report amongst the men? Is a defense properly organised, the men back in line? It's not uncommon for the Orks to attack in waves you know." He knew that by slyly commenting like this he could get the Sergeant back into a position of command rather than him questioning his every move, he had never shot a man of his own flesh and blood who didn't deserve nor would he ever. He could put up with the Sergeant, but if he got out of hand...
Kagmar smiled, it seemed that Commisar Falkirk also disliked Horus.
Still smiling he went back to base.
As Kagmar went back to his quarters he noticed a man backing a soldier he knew Private Firl Cald back into a corner, he listened in.
"You listen here Cald! You are going to make sure that I am given Rallbies position do you understand."
"Yes Leitenant Fernz, sir" Stuttered Cald.
"In whatever way possible Cald do you understand?"Growled Fernz
"Perfecly Sir" Cald Muttered.
"Good, I think Leitenant Blin Might have a little accident if you catch my meaning." Laughing Fernz walked off.
Kagmars eyes narrowed, he remembered Fernz now, several men he knew seemed to have heavier pockets than other men.
He really should alert Falkirk about this first but he hated men who worked their way up the ranks by having people killed.
His lip curling in distaste Kagmar set off after Fernz.
Kagmar was going after Fernz. He was blinded by hatred for the man but as he neared him reason asserted itself if he reported Fernz's nature to the Commisar he could get promoted. He then started walking to the Commisars quarters
Falkirk entered the command bunker, the outside guards saluting briskly and allowing him to pass. Traversing the narrow hallways he was oblivious to the men moving to and fro their various duties, he pushed his way past crowds of men who were celebrating the recent victory.
His quarters were dark, the lights had all been turned off when he left them previously this morning. He yawned loudly taking his cap and cloak off, hanging them by the door. He unbuttoned his tunic and got comfortable in an armchair bringing up a few data slates of supplies, troop numbers, and other similar figures. Chewing on his thumb he curiously pondered how the research was going with the Ork cannon and how long it would take for results to get back.
He sighed, for three months bloody conflict had ensued on this damned planet, the Imperial fleet was deliberately ignoring them, trapped, like pigs in a pen. But he could not tell the men this for morale was drop to new lows, instead, each day he assured the men that the Imperium had not forgotten them and would one day soon take them off this rock. As he gazed at the dataslates, something caught his attention in the corner of his eye, a photograph. Slowly, he stood up and walked towards the coffee table in which it lay, he lifted it up sighing. His one true love who was now millions of light years away, who had no feeling for him anymore.
He stood in solemn silence, memories fading and passing through his troubled mind.
Kagmar Knocked on the door of the Commisars Quarters.
"Come in." said the Commisar in a weary voice.
"Commisar Falkik, I have news about Leitenant Fernz"
Horus smiled. It seemed that this Falkirk had some guts after all. With this thought in his head he prepared to make a casualty report. That was when he spotted the soldier Cald, a weakling that bowed to anyone stronger than himself. What was he doing in this part of the camp? As Horus came closer he saw what was happening: Cald was cutting some ropes which held some barrels in place. But some soldier was standing beneath them! Pulling out his hellpistol Horus yelled: Get down there scum and don't think you can outwit me!"
Sandara raised her head sleepily. Something was going on in camp and she wanted to know what that was.
Falkirk's gaze wandered up to the soldier who had just entered his quarters. Apparently he had some form of news in regards to Lieutenant Fernz, curiously his eyes narrowed on the man. He was in full Krieg regalia, so his face was hidden underneath the gas mask and he wondered who precisely this man was.
"What's your name? News about Fernz, what's going on?" It was true, Lieutenant Fernz had been acting rather peculiarly recently, but he had to question the man who had just randomly walked into his quarters citing a juniour officer for what could be a serious infraction. He set his hands behind his back, taking a deep breath he played through recent events that Fernz had been involved with recently. The officer had been odd, but perhaps he was just a bit power hungry. He couldn't imagine the man actually doing anything out of line...
or could he?
Horus threw his half-finished cigarette to the ground as he approached the Commissar and what-was-his-name-again. Behind him his squad carried along Cald, who was pleading for mercy like a baby. "Hey boss! We got somebody who wants to talk to you" Horus yelled.
Sandara watched as a figure exited the camp, probably one of the soldiers. He looked stressed and eager to leave. But why should she care? Maybe some of the few cooks in the fort had cooked something edibill. With that thought in mind Sandara headed for the next fire.
Falkirk was appalled. His quarters had been taken over it seemed by a group of rowdy troopers. They were laughing and taunting another trooper who was whimpering in fear in their grasps. So much for a quiet afternoon. He thought briskly, he turned now to face the man named Horus once more.
"Ah, Sergeant Horus, we meet again it seems." He stiffened a little as the troopers shoved a pitiful looking soldier in front of him. Confusued, he stared at the whimpering body for another moment and then cocked an eyebrow, lifting his gaze up to meet Horus', "Sergeant, what is this all about?"
"This little scumbag was trying to involve Rallbie in a little accident involving several barrels of ammunition burying Rallbie under them. Also he keeps on stuttering something about Fernz. However, we could not find the second suspect." Horus said, then lit himself another cigarette, knowing that it would displease the Commissar.
Sandara had arrived around one of the cooks fires, which was surrounded by other soldiers. But they quickly departed after spotting the assassin, knowing her customs on the battlefield all to well.
Rallbie? Rallbie was dead. The Commissar's lean face was stern and emotionless, he stared hard at Sergeant Horus who lit a cigarette in his own private quarters. The mentioning of Fernz however brought him back to attention, and he realised that there was indeed something more going on then he had previously imagined. The soldier was burying his head in his arms, rocking back and forth slowly and he wondered just what precisely had happened with this trooper.
"What's his name?" His gaze looked down upon the pitiful looking trooper, "What's your name dammit? If what Horus is saying is true, you've got quite a bit of an explanation to be working up right now." His knuckles grew white as his fists clenched tightly. As if battling the Orks wasn't enough, his own men seemed to be falling apart mentally, now perhaps going after each other. Emperor damn this planet, damn this mission, if he didn't die here he never would.
Briskly, his eyes caught those of every soldier in the room, he scanned them, searching deep within them but found nothing, he was no psyker but he could read people fairly well. The only people in here it seemed that had any idea what was going on was Sergeant Horus and Corporal Kagmar. Hestin Falkirk hesitated a moment before speaking up,
"Does anyone have any idea where Lieutenant Fernz is right now?"
"Yes sir." replied Kagmar "After I saw him talk to Cald he headed to the officers quaters"
Falkirk nodded at the Corporal. "Right then, we need to confront Fernz and figure out just what is going on, however," He turned his gaze back down to the cowering trooper, "I still want a word from this one." His hand rested on the hand grip of his bolt pistol. He had no intentions of pulling the thing out and firing, merely to act as a form of intimidation tactic. He grinned inwardly, being a Commissar was hard work but it did allow for a bit of 'entertainment'.
The metal was cool on pistol and his hand felt its rough yet smooth texture, it had killed many enemies of the Imperium in its time and its job was not over yet. If Fernz was planning something that would hinder or harm any of his men, he wouldn't be afraid to use it on him too.
Horus went straight for the officers quarters with his men, eager to show Fernz the way to Falkirk.
After Sandara had eaten her bowl of soup, she dozed off once more.
"Sergeant Horus!" Hestin Falkirk called after the soldier as he stormed out of the room with his men behind him. Angrily he looked over at Kagmar, "Take this soldier," He nodded indicating Cald, "And follow me."
He set off after Horus who was weaving in and out of the traffic that was the daily ruckus in company command. His men fanned out, they were searching for something, but what? His hand never left his bolt pistol and he fingered it gently underneath his cloak, if this was some sort of trap he was going to be ready for it. He didn't look back, but hoped that Kagmar was behind him, at this point he wasn't really sure who he could trust but knew that the Corporal would follow him to his death if need be.
Horus turned down another hallway and Falkirk swore, he was nearly running now to catchup with the Sergeant and his men. Other officers and guards look curiously as the Commissar fluidly moved his way through the crowds of people, something was going on and he as going to get to the bottom of it.
As Horus reached the officers quarters he called out: "Come out Fernz, we want to talk to you!" As no answer came he ordered his men to fan out, ignoring the irritated officers.
Sandara rolled to her left, still asleep.
Lieutenant Blin stood overseeing the dismantling of the Ork cannon that had been brought into the base. His blonde hair was slicked backwards and a narrow scar coursed across the side of his cheek, all thanks to some damn Orkish sharpnel that had jettisoned into his body.
"Things are going smoothly sir, no sign of any foreign bodies." A young Guardsmen said, a dataslate in his hands and he cheerfully walked back down towards the dismantling process. Blin was pleased, the crew was moving at a great pace and things seemed to be going fairly well in the small hanger. On the far side of the room he noticed a few men step into the area, he cocked his head, this was supposed to be restricted and only the Commissar would have direct access inside, who was this? He wearily set his data slate on the shelf and walked down to meet the group who had entered, as he began his descent however he froze,
"Nobody move." The voice was cool and crisp and it had a tinge of lightning in it. The charging of lasguns sounded and the rasp platting of leather boots on the hard metal floor rebounded off the hanger walls.
"Where is Lieutenant Blin?" His voice struck out again, Blin ducked behind some crates trying to match the voice with a body but none came to mind... it sounded almost daemonic.
"N-no idea, s-s-sir." The young Guardsmen who had just spoken with him sounded fearful, laughter followed by another strange sound, was that clicking? Suddenly a shot rang out across the hanger and loud thud of a body dropping.
"I'm not playing any games here, where is Lieutenant Blin?"
"I am here." Blin stood up, his body was brisk and straight backed, he stared hard and wide, he knew that face, it was...
The group that had entered the hanger opened fire on the workers, las shots scraped into their bodies and they were cut down to pieces. Blin tried to make a run back to the cover of the crates but a sharp stinging sensation coursed in his guts and he fell over gasping for air. A boot kicked him over, the same familiar face...
it raised a bolt pistol directly at him and smiled, pulling the trigger. All Blin saw now was nothingness.
The Commissar had grown extremely frustrated with this, he had no idea what was going on and had no lost Sergeant Horus, his men seemed to have disappeared across the crowd. "Kagmar! Corporal Kagmar! Where the hell are you?" He roared out, the hallway was packed full of bodies, what was going on? He pressed onwards, finally reaching a break in the tide of human flesh and moved towards the side of one of the adjacent rooms, his eyes scanned the crowd looking for signs of Kagmar or any of Horus' men but he found none. Frustrated, the Commissar made a rough push through the mass of people and wound up on the other side towards a hallway that led to an underground passage and further to an exit to the above ground. He turned now, "Corporal Kagmar!" He called out again, he hoped the damned soldier had heard him.
"I am here Sir!" Kagmar replied "There is no sign of Fernz"
Kagmar thought a moment, where could Fernz be. His face went pale.
"Sir we must get down to the cannon Leitenant Blin is in Grave danger!"
Horus grabbed Kagmars shoulder. "He's nowhere to be seen and his squad is gone too. What now?"
Sandara grumbled in her sleep.
"The Cannon?" It all came back to him. The Ork cannon had been left under the overwatch of Blin, but why were the two troopers so ancy about getting there? "Right, Horus, get your squad together and meet us outside the hanger, Kagmar your with me. Let's keep this as quiet as possible."
The Commissar set off with Kagmar close behind him, Horus was roaring out orders to his men. Weaving in and out of the confused officers area, the two managed to get there way through to the outside grounds, where men were setting up defensive positions. An eerie silence was over the encampment, the Commissar shivered. "Kagmar, why are we so urgent in getting to Blin? What the hell do you mean he's in grave danger?"
The two kept walking towards the hanger, unaware that a mysterious figure was watching their every move.
"When I overheard Fernz talking he seemed resentful of Bli and wanted him to have "a little accident," Kagmar replied hastily
Horus and his men hurried after the two.
Sandara is still asleep.
The area outside the hanger was deserted, Falkirk's mouth was dry surely Blin had left guards outside? The Commissar was still pondering what Kagmar had said, he knew that Fernz had wanted that command position but to kill a fellow officer? He wasn't sure the Lieutenant was that kind of man.
"Alright, weapons ready... don't shoot unless... well just don't fire until I say so." He drew his own bolt pistol and came about the outside hanger door which seemed to have been busted open. Slowly he came around the corner into the main hanger bay, his mind taking in everything at once. Bodies were scattered all around, the workers most likely, they had all been brutally murdered. By a stack of crates he saw the body, Blin was on his back his head an exploded mess of brain and blood. Hestin Falkirk swore loudly, "Secure the perimeter."
Grimly he walked over to the mans body and bent over, ripping the insigna tags from his chest and biting his lower lip. It seems that Fernz had had the nerve to strike down a comrade, he was going to make sure the man paid. Then something else came to realisation, the cannon, it was gone.
"Kagmar, Horus, we have a problem," He turned to the two who seemed to be looking about in confusion, "The cannon... it's missing." As he turned his head to walk back outside he saw something in the corner of his eyes, a trail of blood. He beckoned his troops to follow him and he led the way, his bolt pistol gripped tightly in his hand ready for anything. The trail of blood led ever onwards leading into a small back room that had once been an office.
On the floor a managled body that had been ripped and torn to such a degree that it was unrecognisable, and on the wall...
The Eight Sided disc of Chaos. Coated in blood.
"O great," Horus sighed "not only that we have to fight those wretched greenskins, but now we have to deal with some crazed traitors too." Suddenly he paused, then he walked over to the shredded soldier. He cursed under his breath and turned to Falkirk and Kagmar: "Gentlemen we are knee-deep in trouble, this man was torn from the inside, not the outside. That can only be the work of a chaos sorcerer. It seems that this betrayal was caused by the work of one of those blasted chaos psykers."
Sandara opened her eyes slowly then closed them again. There were no greenskins to battle and she went to sleep once more.
The Commissar looked down at the mangled corpse and shuddered, he wasn't precisely sure how Horus had reached his conclusion but he knew the man wouldn't lie about something so serious. "It could be anyone." His palm was sweating a bit, he had fought Chaos twice in his career and despised it entirely. He couldn't possibly imagine there to be any Chaos in this sector, hadn't the Imperial forces scanned it?
Outside a claxon sounded, "Orks are returning, dammit!" He waved his hand, "You lads, follow me, we need to get to the bottom of this but first let's deal with some greenskins!" He ran outside the men following in hot pursuit. Outside the troops of the 323rd raced in all directions to man defensive positions, lasguns and heavy bolters, mortars, and other weapons opening up. In the distance the Commissar could make out the incoming shape of a large tide of Orks.
They seemed to be moving around to encompass the encampment, "Funny," The Commissar muttered, "Liked they arrived just on time..." He ran over to the cover of an operations post located just behind the main trench line, the men were firing into the greenskins curiously wondering what they were doing.
"Mortar teams, target the centre of that column!" He yelled out at a vox caster to give the order out, in the meantime he looked over his shoulder, nothing unusual.
The figure crouched in its position, scanning over the heads of Imperial soldiers he found his target. Quickly and quietly, he began his descent.
Kagmar Steadied himself as the huge tide of Orks came closer Preparing himself he waited fornthem to come ito range
Horus sighed as he saw Falkirk and Kagmar running to the battleline. " Okay lads," he said to his men "I want the complete hangar searched for evidence. The commissar may want to kill those barbarians first, but we can not underestimate the forces of chaos.If there is a sorcerer on this planet we must find him quickly. Look for evidence like a plant that does not grow near our position." Horus himself hurried towards the medical camp, seeking to find someone who could find out what had been used in the slaughter on the hangar.
Sandara could hardly restrain herself from running right into the wave of greenskins that was coming towards their lines. She was whirling her blades in anticipation of the coming battle.
Kagmar was Sweating It seemed tat the Orks were in Larger numbers than ever before and they wer nearlyly in range.
Almost, almost NOW!! He drew and fired his laspistol.
As Horus heard yells of fear and pain from the medical quarters he ran even faster. As he entered he spotted the intruder right away: a Bloodletter was raging among the medics! Firing several rounds from his hellpistol and drawing his sword Horus charged at the demon, attempting to distract the servant of Khorne.
Sandra ran forward clearing the little space between her and the orks. After a few seconds her blades were dripping with greenskin blood, as she whirled them in a frenzy.
"Men of Krieg, you will hold this day!" Shots ripped past the Commissar's body, men fell in droves as the Orks made a massive push into the Imperial lines. Fierce hand-to-hand combat was raging in the forward trenches, the men were holding but only just. Mortar teams were doing what they could to pin the enemy down but the Orks were just to many. Auxiliary units came surging forward to provide fire support for those in the trenches, the Commissar could only watch in horror as his men were literally swarmed over by the green filth.
The Kriegsmen standard bearer stood by watching in blank fascination at the battle, the Commissar grunted and lifted his bolt pistol into the air and fired, "We have to reinforce the outer wall! Corporal Kagmar!," He turned to the soldier who looked up, "Assemble a squad of 20 men we're going into that fight!"
"Yes sir, you heard him men form up" shouted Kagmar
"For the Emperor!"
Horus threw his useless hellgun aside and gripped his sword in both hands. But the daemon was untouched by the bullets. It's metabolism had shaken the shots off as if they were mere pebbles. As Horus slashed at the Bloodletter it dodged out of the way repeatedly and when hit it at last the servants flesh just regenerated. Now the hideous beast thrust its own blade towards Horus. he gasped as the hellblade dug into his left arm. He let out a yell of hatred and anger: "FOR THE EMPEROR!!!" with that he seperated the head from the torso and the daemon dissolved leaving only the head.
Sandara laughed hysterically as she did a 360 horizontal slash, cutting several greenskins in half.
Yelling at two soldiers who had been drawn to the medical camp by the noise: "You there get me my men and you get me a chainsword and a bolt pistol, these weapons are useless to me, but make sure they are unused and fully loaded!
Sandara made several leaps into various directions, slicing apart any orks in the radius of three metres.
Kagmar was slashing at the Orks with his power sword, cutting them apart. He had to stop the Orks
His squad and his new weapons reached Horus exactly the same moment. Gripping the bolt pistol and the chainsword Horus ordered his men to follow him with the head. "I'll show the commissar that we have a much greater battle to fight." he muttered under his breath.
Sandara was doing multiple backflips towards the Krieg trenches to catch a breather there.
Commissar Falkirk fired off another round of his bolt pistol, clipping an Ork in the side of the head and nodding as the beast fell in a pool of brain and blood. Chaos and death ensued all around him, the men of Krieg were holding firmly but the Orks were numerous and stubborn, they were not going to retreat anytime soon. He cursed the situation, his heavy bolters were having difficulty firing because the battle was locked in a melee duel, he had to pull the men back somehow without the Orks overunning them.
He flipped his powersword around, slicing into one of the Orks catching the greenskin in the back of the head. He ripped downwards, slicing down to the base of the skull and kicked the Ork off his blade. He heard an explosion rock somewhere behind him but he ignored this, there was a battle going on here and he had to deal with this threat, the Orks were going to overrun them!
"Men of Krieg, we need to pull back to the secondary trenches!" He waved his sword in the air the men responded by beginning the discplined fall back. Firing and running, they hauled themselves with adrenaline rushing back to the second line of defenses. The bolters opened up on the persuing Orks, killing scores with trained fire. Lascannons erupted from fixed positions blasting gaps in the horde while snipers picked off individual targets. So far the defenses were proving themselves capable.
Hestin Falkirk slid into the second trench, firing over the lip at the Orks who were beginning to close the ground. "Let these bastards have it! For Krieg! For the Imperium!" The men fired shot after shot, the Orks falling in droves, clawing and crawling all over each other to try and reach the Krieg line. A few unlucky Guardsmen who had not managed to retreat were torn to pieces but the enraged greenskins, Falkirk felt no emotion, he had seen death on to many levels already.
The Ork advanced had stalled, the superiour firepower was blasting the superiour numbers to pieces, and the Orks began to realise this. They dug into the first trench, regrouping and awaiting more reinforcements before making a push. Of course such tactics were unusual to Orks, and Falkirk felt a strange sensation in his stomach, was it dread, fear? Something wasn't sitting right with him, "Kagmar, can you explain to me what the hell the Orks are doing?" He looked over at the Corporal who seemed dazed, tired, and just as confused as he was, "And where the hell is Horus?" He added, turning around and looking for the Sergeant.
"I don't know sir." said a puzzled Kagmar "Orks never use such tactics, unless... no it must be Chaos Sir they must be helping the orks giving their huge armies tactics"
Horus emerged behind Kagmar "First of all the orks don't accept other tactics other then their own and second we need more guards in the camp if we don't want to be overrun from the inside." With that he dropped the daemons head at the commissars feet. "Aren't you the one who's supposed keep the soldiers in line? The front line is not your place Falkirk. Yours is in camp keeping an eye on possible heresy. Because you did not take threat seriously enough we lost five of our best medics. Maybe we should swap, you a common soldier and me a commissar. How does that sound? Anybody could do this better than you!" Horus was nearly yelling now, anger and pain slowly taking over.
Sandara stared at the the orks with displeasure. Why weren't they attacking anymore?
Hestin Falkirk was taken aback, Daemons in the camp? However, sterness overcame him and he grabbed Horus by the scruff of his coat, "Listen Sergeant," He got control of himself and released the man, "Horus, the Orks are overrunning us from this point, morale is dropping the men are becoming afraid, now I have Chaos at my flank? Horus if you honestly think you can do a better job I will give you my cap now but in the meantime I need a soldier not a damned critic." He lifted his bolt pistol into the air and called out to some nearby soldiers, "I need a squad of 5, follow me." And with that, he made a break back over the trench into the rear base, behind him he could hear the roaring of heavy weapons teams as they doused the Orks in fire.
Five medics had Horus said? He cursed this fight even more now, Chaos at their flanks but how could he have been so blind? Had Fernz truly fallen? He marched back towards the medical centre which was a mess of blood and bullet holes, he nodded to one of the soldiers there who grimly returned a salute. "We need a perimeter set up, this position cannot fall, do you understand?" The soldier nodded and set off assembling his men and forming up defenses measures. Unused crates and cement blocks were shoved in to form crude walls and cover points, tables were flipped over to provide more shields. However, a small gap was created in order to allow the wounded and field medics entrance into the tent city.
"By god, but what will become of this day?" Already he could see a massive green tide marching on the horizon. And then a low roar, faint at first, but it drummed into his ears. By the Emperor, what was coming?
Horus just stared as the commissar as he ran toward ork lines. Then he turned to his men "Alright let's get moving, we need a barricade up as soon as possible. I want them too high for the orks to jump over them okay?" Suddenly Horus had an idea and he walked of to the weaponry to get everything he needed.
The low thundering cotinued farther away down a canyon the Orks were using as a sort of grouping point. It seems that a few of the Ork Biker Boyz were zig zagging across the dreary badland, firing pop shots at the defenders. From his overhead position at the medical tents, Commissar Falkirk inhaled a sharp breath of air. A strange tingling sensation had filled his bones ever since he had taken the defense here, he was still overcome with dread at having to deal with anything that had to do with Chaos. A few soldiers were laughing, smoking, and trying to pass the time and ease the strained tension. Falkirk folded his hands behind his back, his bolt pistol and power sword both in their respective holster and sheath underneath his cloak.
"Commissar," A medical officer approached him, rubbing blood and grime from his heads on a yellow towel, "We need to get some of the wounded inside the complex, they need advanced treatment."
Falkirk nodded, "You three," He called to the men who were passing the time, "Grab your gear and provide an escort for the medical officer here, come on boys, there you are." He nodded and smiled cheekly at the medical officer who nodded his thanks.
Turning his attention back to the front he saw the Ork Bikez fan out in a wide arc and come pounding ahead towards the Imperial Secondary Trenches, they kicked up dirt and thick smog erupted from the engines, crude bolters and autocannons spewed out from odd positions and angles all over the bikes, they roared forward preparing to crash into the Krieg lines.
The scope adjusted, he had been scanning the trenches and had finally found his target. He could hear the whirring of Ork bikes and smiled, the damn greenskins weren't so useless after all it seemed, the noise would mask his fire. The Imperial Sergeant whom he had failed to kill was trying to set up defensive positions, he pulled the trigger and fired as the crosshair came over his head. He cursed violently, another soldier had just stepped behind the Sergeant and taken the bullet in the back of the head, he dropped and thudded onto the ground.
The figure lay still and prone, not daring to move, or even breathe.
In the weaponry Horus looked frantically for what he needed. At last he found it: a bunch flamethrowers. He smiled "If they're keeping their heads low we'll show them that that doesn't help much when fighting specific weapons." Calling to some men nearby he ordered them to take the flamethrowers and give them to qualified soldiers who were supposed to meet him at the newly erected defensive wall. He himself made for the commissar, to tell him of his plan (and to his great shame to say sorry).
Sandara looked boredly at the ork lines. This was no fun.
The Commissar watched the Ork Bikez zoom towards the Imperial lines, they suddenly split as fire was concentrated on them, a few of the bikes erupted in an inferno of fire but some managed to get back out of range and towards their own lines. Falkirk cocked an eyebrow, what was the meaning here? He held a long telescope like object in his hands, staring through the object and trying to make sense of the Ork movements. They seemed to be gathering at certain points, and then running off and scattering in all directions, assembling once more in set positions. Confused he lowered the scope, what in the Emperor's name was going on?
He looked up and saw Sergeant Horus making his way, almost reluctently towards him. He folded his hands behind his back and stared towards him, "Sergeant Horus, a pleasant surprise."
Kagmar was perplexed Why would the Orks wait like that it was completely out of character. Suddenly he looked up and saw an Ork with a Jump Pack He coldy lifted his laspistol and shot the disgusting creature.
"Commissar I have an idea: their cover will be useless against flamethrowers. If we get some of the men assembled behind me in range we may deal devastating damage to the greenskins." then Horus muttered an apology so quiet that only Falkirk could hear it. After that was done Horus went for the trenches leaving the men with the flamethrowers with the commissar.
Sandara was watching the orks with increasing annoyance.
Falkirk couldn't help but smile, the man was proud, Horus, but he was a faithful soldier of the Emperor nonetheless. He pondered his scheme for a moment, it would be risky, running across open ground towards the Orks almost sounded suicidial, but with presses on what could possibly be two fronts, he had no choice but to risk it all. "Gentlemen, assemble now on me, we're going for a bit of a jog." The troops laughed nervously, he raised his bolt pistol and turned towards one of the NCO's, "Stay behind and keep this place under control until I return." The soldier saluted and began issuing new orders for a defensive stance.
The flamer troops followed Commissar Falkirk down into the trenches, he turned towards Corporal Kagmar and Sergeant Horus, "I hope you two will be coming with us, I'll need all the guns I can get." The Imperial soldiers assembled around the lip of the trench wall, waiting for the order to charge.
The Orks still were moving in odd formations, creating rings and squares, for no explained reason the Orks seemed to be almost hesistant about an assault.
Horus nodded his approval. "But first I'll issue some backup. I don't want to be killed before I reach those greenskins." Suddenly his eye caught something in the horde. "You there" he called out to a random soldier "I want to know exactly WHAT they are forming. Go somewhere high and find out. I think I saw a certain symbol shaped for a few seconds."
Sandara noticed the men with the flamethrowers. She smiled, that meant they were going to charge.
Kagmar prepared to charge. He was thinking about his failure that lost him the rank of sergeant he knew why. He had to be cold and decisive, eliminate the pathetic Greenskins
The Commissar nodded, waving his arm over his shoulder to indicate the troop would be moving out. Heavy bolter fire raked down giving an overwatch to the soldiers who would prepare to advance. "The Emperor protects." He muttered half to himself.
The whistle blew, the men roared charing over the lip of the trench wall and moving forward under a covering spray of bolter and mortar fire. The Orks in the forward trenches seemed to be taken almost off guard by the advance but soon enough rose to challenge the offenders. Fire sprayed back at the Imperial line, a few Krieg soldiers fell from horrifying wounds of shrapnel and large gaping holes appeared in their slender frames.
The Commissar was the first into the forward trench, bringing his power sword down upon an Orks head, he used the greenskins body to give him leverage, pushing and soaring into the air firing his bolt pistol and clipping a few more greenskins before he hit the ground hard. The flamer squad opened up then, hot flame streaked back and forth roasting Orks alive, still however, the greenskins clawed forward, their skin melting off the bone.
"Damn these Orks!" He roared loudly, firing point blank at an Ork, the bolt smashing the creature in between the eyes and spraying blood and brain against the backside of the trench wall. He ripped his powersword out of the dead Ork's body and waved it into the air, "No retreat now lads! Victory or death!" The fighting was close and thick, flamer fire constantly spraying and causing hot death amongst the green ranks.
The Commissar had some breathing time and went to studying the Ork forces from a closer range, his chest tightened. The Orks weren't running back and forth at random intervals, they were fighting something... but what? Each other? It wasn't uncommon for Orks to do something so savage, however...
He saw the flashing red armour, familiar in his mind from his first encounter with the heretic group... the red emblems of Khorne.
Kagmar saw the emblems of Khorne, it seemed the battle had just gotten a lot harder taking his powe sword he charged at the fighting Orks and servants of Khorne.
Horus snarled at the servant of Khorne, that he had locked blades with: "What are you going to do? I have already killed many of your kind and even other more dangerous creatures couldn't stop me. You have no chance." The cultist jumped back, his eyes were clouded with bloodlust as he sized Horus up. Suddenly his expression changed as he spotted the bloodletters head dangling from the sergeants belt. In this moment of fear Horus leapt forward and cut the cultist in half. He then fired several rounds with his boltgun before engaging another cultist.
Sandara was in the same state as the cultists she was battling: her mind was filled only by the wish for blood. But she was the one who got her wish fulfilled. She had killed so many already in this battle that she had lost count and she was nearly entirely covered with enemy blood.
"Sacred Feth..." He muttered, the Orks were being slaughtered be hordes of Chaos cultists. Who in the Emperor was going on here? Why were servants of Khorne swarming over the planetside? In all his three months on fighting on Planet IV he had seen no signs of any Chaos taint, or anything other than Greenskins for that matter.
He lifted his bolt pistol high and roared out, the Greenskins in the forward trench were mostly dead, "Men of Krieg, regroup, fall in on me!" The men finished off whatever was left of the Orks and began assembling in an ordered line next to the Commissar. They fired over the lip of the trench into the frenzied battle between Chaos and Ork ahead of them. He paced, nervous and sweating underneath his cap, nothing was making sense anymore.
"Kagmar! Kagmar get the hell over here!" He called out for the Corporal not being sure where the Sergeant was. The mortar teams were moving their equipment forward and setting up to begin bombarding the battle ahead. Perhaps it would be better to let the two armies kill each other off, Falkirk stared off in a fearful gaze. The end was surely coming.
Kagmar ran over to the Commisar, catching his meaning
"Men with me!" he shouted. Leting the two armies kill each other was the right thing to do he was sure about it.
Horus quickly executed a few cultists with his bolt pistol while moving back towards the krieg line. Seeing that mad assassin still fighting, he smacked her with the but of his chainsword and dragged her out of the frenzy that would soon be fired at by the mortar teams. The krieg army could not afford such a loss. Not in this situation.
Sandara slipped into unconsciousness as something hit her head.
"Dammit Kagmar can you see this?" The battle between Ork and Chaos was an inferno of blood and bodies. Ferocity and utter hatred rocked the countryside, but the Cultists were beginning to overpower the Orks. The Krieg mortar teams had finished setting up and were beginning a bombardment of the battle line, bodies fell in all directions as the shells exploded in the heat of combat. Falkirk noticed the Sergeant and whatever was left of his squad returning to the line, he seemed to be dragging someone but he gave it no notice. Some of the Krieg men were continuing to fire into the battle, while others merely watched in awe and horror at the sheer violence that was in front of them.
He had dealt with servants of Khorne before, they were bloodthirsty, crazed, mad specimens of heretics. To think that they were on this planet made his stomach turn. His eyes watched as an Ork grabbed a cultist by the head and literally crushed it in his massive palms. He saw two cultists sneak up behind the same Ork and drive two crudely fashioned swords through his lower back adn out through his stomach. The Ork turned and killed both with his bare hands before falling over dead.
He reloaded his bolt pistol and set it shakily back into his holster, his powersword already back in its sheath. "By the Emperor..." Was all he could mutter.
Horus dropped Sandara to the ground and stared at the massacre taking place. Seeing an ork battling a cultist he raised his bolt pistol and shot the cultist through the head. The orks were definetely the lesser evil of the two. Mirroring the sergeant the troops around Horus concentrated their fire on the cultists.
Sandara slowly got up and looked around. What had happened?
Kagmar saw what Horus was doing he hated Orks but he had to stop the cultists, raising his laspistol he shot a cultist.
More and more Krieg fire was concentrated on the cultists. But Horus and his men had their own problems: they were struggling to keep Sandara nailed on the ground.
Sandara was using all her strength to get up, but she couldn't move.
The Commissar couldn't take his eyes away from the carnage ahead, the Krieg soldiers were firing everything they could but the sheer tide of bodies of xenos and heretics seemed never ending. Was it destiny that brought him to this hell of a planet, or just fate reminding him that he could never be truly happy?
The fighting continued, the cultists who had had the upper hand throughout most of the fight were beginning to take massive amounts of casualties as their impetuous charge began to break, and concentrated Krieg fire wasn't helping their lines much either. He scanned the horizon, looking for any sign of enemy reinforcements but could see nothing. The mortar volley's were decimating any enemy resistance and it wasn't long before the enemy forces had dwindled to almost nothing. The amount of bodies on the ground seemed uncountable, he grimaced at the sight of those mutilated and twisted frames. A tap on his shoulder awoke him from his daydream, a young vox officer was gesturing him over,
"Yes?" He merely said, the brim of his hat catching the red sun and creating a shadowy presence on his face.
"Sir, Central Command wants you back inside, seems they've got a few... problems."
"Specify." He kept his attention rapt now, something was occuring back in Command.
"I... I can't sir, it was classified information." Biting his lower lip, the Commissar pondered for a moment then nodded,
"Right, I'll go check it out, thank you." The soldier saluted quickly and seemed relieved at having informed Falkirk.
He hopped over the lip wall knowing the Sergeant could handle the front lines for now and jogged briskly back into friendly lines. He passed the medical tents and the Chief Medic waved at him, his apron coated in thick blood. He smiled and waved back quickly trying to move as far away as he could from that place of horrors.
He strode outside of the entrance of the Command Bunker and was surprised to see the lack of guards posted around the entrance. He was just about to turn back when he heard a soft thud behind him. Turning his eyes widened.
"Commissar Falkirk," The voice was cool, cutting, edgy and insane, "It seems we were destined to meet again."
"Fernz." All he could mutter was that name, his hands gripped into tight fists and he felt a strange sensation of anger run through him.
As if on cue, a dozen Krieg soldiers erupted from either side of him, but instead of pointing their guns at Fernz, they were aiming for the Commissar. He swore, it had been true, Fernz had fallen.
"Hestin, you've always been... to lenient with the ranks."
"Lenient? I've never shot a man who did not deserve it."
"That's because you've never shot a man at all." Fernz's features were wild, the Commissar stared intently into his eyes and saw the madness coursing through them. "You are weak Hestin, weak, and now I am strong, brave, and I will see that this regiment doesn't become another useless tool of a dying tyrant."
"You bastard Fernz, you traitourous vulture!" He reached for his bolt pistol but heard the whirring of lasguns and stopped short. Fernz began laughing, small manically his eyes rolling back into his head and he began foaming at the mouth. His fit finally stopped and he hacked loudly, coming about to look at the Commissar directly in the eyes.
"Why Fernz? None of this was necessary." Angrily Fernz turned sharply and pulled out his own laspistol,
"Not necessary? Why Hestin, how very rude of you."
"If this is about that command pos-"
"IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH A COMMAND POSITION," The fallen Lieutenant roared, firing point blank at one of his soldiers and hitting the man square in the side of the head. Bloody erupted from his ruined skull and he slumped over on the ground, the rest of the soldiers didn't flinch, like they had failed to notice, "You are weak Hestin, weak! Weak, weak, weak..." Madness had ovecome Fernz, the Commissar knew that he had to find a way to get out of this situation, but how?
Had the entire Command fallen too?
Horus noticed the commissar leaving and got up, signaling his men to leave Sandara to charge into the fray once more since the mortar teams were out of ammo. Suddenly a stormboy smacked into the ground next to Horus throwing him off his feet.
Sandara jumped up, drawing her energy swords and charged at the new enemy in their midst.
Kagmar was suspicious the Commisar needed protecting. He couldn't wander off alone not with Fernz on the loose, making up his mind he went after him.
Horus snapped of several rounds at the stormboyz that had come down right after the first. One of the greenskins grunted as a bullet tore through it's right eye. Horus had regained a steady foothold again and charged at the third stormboy.
Sandara danced around the slugs and stabbed the foul ork through the heart.
Kagmar walked up to the bunker. Shocked he stopped Fernz was threatening the and raving about how he was weak. Raising his laspistol he fired.
Dammit! a soldier had stepped in the way, his position had been revealed he had to get to Horus.
Horus was getting impatient what in the emperors name was Falkirk doing? The men were getting demoralised by the absence of their leader. "Then I'll just have to take his place for a while." Horus muttered under his breath. With a loud roar he leapt into battle, his chainsword alive with hunger. Following the sergeant the Krieg line pushed forward.
Sandara had engaged the enemy only a few seconds after Horus.
"Sergeant Horus!" shouted an exhausted Kagmar "Its Fernz hes got control of everything," and collapsed at Horus' feet
Horus looked down at Kagmar: "Get up, stand straight and tell me exactly what's going on here. You're a Krieg soldier damn it!"
Sandara was alive with the fury of the emperor running through her veins. Scrieching she scythed apart all in her path.
"Its Fernz, hes got most of the soldiers on his side and captured the Commisar" he pante
Horus ordered his squad to follow him and charged towards the place Kagmar pointed to.
A stray lasshot echoed over across the group, Fernz twisted his attention and watched a Krieg soldier dart away back to their lines.
"Company, boys... company!" The fallen Krieg soldiers were laughing. Fernz turned his attention back to Falkirk who was staring deadly into him. A faint smile creased over Fernz's face, how stupid of the Commissar to come wandering alone, "You're with us Falkirk. Let's go."
Falkirk had no choice but to comply and kept his hands pinned down by his side, two of the fallen Krieg soldiers stood behind him and he felt the presence of the barrel of a lasgun press into his back. When he turned to face the fallen soldier he was shoved hard, "Don't look back, keep moving." Was all that he had to say.
Fernz plunged ahead into the Command Bunker, his face impassive but his eyes brimming with madness, three horribly strewn and bloody bodies lay twisted all over the floor of the central atrium of the bunker.
The troupe kept moving further into the bunker and Hestin saw more and more bodies of his fallen officers, comrades, his friends. A few more fallen Krieg soldiers were setting up defenses inside and he knew that a full out betrayal had taken place. "Damn you Fernz, but what have you done?" His voice barely controlling the shock and agony at seeing so much deceit. Fernz was laughing again, a slow and vicious laugh. They entered a doorway at the far end of the central atrium, inside two fallen guardsmen saluted and opened another door which led to a medium sized office where Falkirk was shoved into.
"Hestin?" A voice asked out in the darkness. Emerging from the shadows a trio of gaunt and fearful looking Krieg officers saluted wearily.
"Look Falkirk, you have friends." The insanity of Fernz's voice was growing again, however, he turned to the two guards and told them to keep watch. They saluted and closed the door, locking it behind them.
"Major Perigrad." Falkirk couldn't muster much to say, he was tired, and very distressed at the moment. The front lines could be collapsing, Orks on one front, Chaos on the other, and fallen bastards on the rear.
Major Perigrad was a bruly man, born on Praetoria he was a man of fierce discipline and iron will, however, he seemed lost and confused, his voice when he spoke wasn't as confident as it normally was, "Sah." His thick grey moustache quievered slightly over his ashen and bloody face.
"What happened?" Falkirk asked sitting down and resting his hands in his head. The other two officers turned out to be bodyguards of Perigrad, they two were both bleeding and ashen looking.
"That bastard Fernz, he seemed to appear out of no where, sah," Perigrad paced slowly as he spoke, his hands waving about in utter frustration, "They opened fired randomly, killing scores of us before we realised what the hell he had done. Well me and my lads took up a position on a balcony and started killing the traitours off. Aye boys?"
"Aye!" The two bodyguards said at one, both standing rigioursly at attention. It would have been comical if the situation wasn't so grim,
"However, there were waves of them sah, bloody waves of them. I lost a dozen men before the close combat ensued. They came all over us, I managed to get a few of the blighters but as you can see, here I am."
"They spared you?"
"Appears so, sah."
Falkirk was confused. They had killed so many of their fellow soldiers but had spared the burly Major and two of his elite bodyguards? Something wasn't sitting right with him, but a realisation overcame that negative thought, "Then there could be others still alive in the base?"
The Major seemed to ponder this a moment and then slowly nodded, "Well of course sah, but we have no me-"
"Major, we are on the threshold of defeat right now. Outside the xenos and heretic plague our lines and here," He motioned with a wide arc of a hand movement, "Here we have brothers who have betrayed us, stabbed us in the back. We can't just sit here Major."
"What do you intend to do then, sah?"
Falkirk thought a moment, he knew that Horus and Kagmar could handle the lines, and he prayed to the Emperor that they were becoming awry at his long absence.
"Gentlemen, we may lose our lives here." The Commissars voice was almost toneless, the three Praetorians shivered slightly but saluted briskly.
"Of course, sah." The Major stared straight ahead, his eyes narrowing.
"Follow my lead."
Kagmar heard Horus and understood "Pull back now men, Now" he shouted while firing his laspistol
The Imperial line sounded the retreat, crawling back from the secondary trenches and running up towards the ramparts of the outer fortress walls. Fixed bolter, plasma, autocannon, and lascannon positions were set up in stragetic positions and were reigning a living hell on the Orks chasing after the troops to their rear. Scores of greenskins fell beneath the Imperial might and it wasn't soon before the blitzkrieg was utterly broken, the Orks pinned down in the trenches or being gunned down in the open. For now it seemed, the line was holding.
Commissar Falkirk looked up from his thoughts, all conversation in the room stopped. The faint sound of gunfire erupted somewhere from the compound. "What do you make of it, sah?" The Major asked curiously, his eyes scanning across the room as if some secret answer was hidden amongst their capitvity.
"It sounds like," Falkirk narrowed his gaze and bit his lower lip gently, "It sounds like a firefight."
The four captives listened intently for awhile, erupting explosions and more fire was wreaking all hell somewhere in the compound. Suddenly, they heard voices nearby in the hallway outside the room.
"We're coming in," The voice was raspy and a hand banged on the door as the fallen Kriegsmen unlocked it preparing to enter. This was the chance they were waiting for.
"You two," The Commissar barked out whispered orders, "either side of the door, now!" The two bodyguards nodded briskly and took up strategic positions on either side of the entrance.
The Major laughed as he saw the plan unfolding, and took up position behind some stacked crates. The Commissar stood in the centre of the room, the doors opened.
Five Chaos cultists, lasrifles raised entered the room.
"Where are the o-" The cultist never had the chance to finish his thought. The two elite Bodyguards lunged at the Chaos heretics, fighting with trained menace. The burly Major erupted from seemingly no where and began joining the hand-to-hand fray.
One of the cultists charged Hestin, he shifted his stance to prepare to fight. The cultist swung his lasrifle like a bat, and he hopped backwards to avoid being struck. A few stray shots were richochetting across the room, it was utter madness.
He gripped a clipboard on the desk and tossed it at the cultist, he flinched making an opening which Falkirk used, driving his elbow deep into the traitours chest. He grunted with the impact but swung his free hand around clipping the Commissar on the side of the head. He felt dizzy for a moment, but adrenaline saw to it that he was back on his feet in no time.
The cultist swung the rifle like a club again, narrowly dodging it, the Commissar figured a new strategy. He smashed a bookcase over and hopped backwards onto a desk. Gripping up a handful of papers he tossed them wildly, making sure to pick up a long slender looking pencil.
Confused momentarily by the wildness, the heretic never saw the Commissar lunge at him, driving the pencil deep into his chest. He roared in agony and brought his hand up, gripping the Commissars throat. The two struggled on the ground, Falkirk loosened the cultists grip and smashed him across the face with his fist three times, cracking the mans nose and splitting his lip.
Blood pooled from his wounded face and the Commissar ripped the pencil from his chest, driving it again and again into his esophagus. Blood pooled in a crimson fury, splattering all over Falkirk's uniform. If he hadn't seen death in so many different and brutal forms he probably would of gagged or vomited, but he had seen worse than this. The cultist stopped kicking as blood filled his lungs and clogged his throat, choking him to death in a horrible and violent manner.
The three Praetorians were standing over him, a mix of fear, horror, and admiration scored across their faces. The other four cultists lay in heaps on the ground, their wounds weren't as violent, but with bones protruding from ruined flesh, and bloodied cracked skulls, it wasn't really a very wide comparison.
"Commissar." Major Perigrad handed him a rifle as he stood, wiping his bloody hands on the dead cultists tunic before taking it.
"Thank you, any ideas gentlemen?" He asked, looking at the three newfound comrades. One of the bodyguards had a split lip and he looked over into the hallway,
"Well, we should go investigate the source of that noise sah." The group nodded, a logical choice, and began trooping into the corridor.
"Duffy look at this," One of the bodyguards spoke up pointing towards the horrible insigna of Chaos etched into the wall.
"Barmy bastards, the lot of 'em Renty." The two Praetorians chuckled with nervous laughter.
"Quiet lads, we've got work to be done."
The ad hoc squad traversed the corridors, keeping to the shadows in attempts to dodge cultist patrols, but these areas were empty. A small sign indicated a way to the cafeterium, "We can cut through 'ere." The soldier Renty said, nodding his way to the steel doors. They peered through the window, at least three dozen cultists were setting up some makeshift defenses in a line towards the doors. They were coming on their flank.
"What do you think Perigrad?" The old Major seemed to ponder the possibility,
"Well Falkirk, sah, with all due respect, I'm afraid it really won't be very fair to the traitours." The Commissar grinned at his friends charismatic display of manly prestige.
"Right, we'll take up positions along that line of pillars and let them have it, Emperor protect you boys." The squad busted in through the steel door and opened fire.
The cultists were taken completely by surprised, the trained lasshots of these four veteran soldiers were true, clipping a good amount of the heretics before they even knew what hit them. Sporadic lasfire shot back at them in confusion, but more trained lasfire ripped them to pieces.
"Good shooting lads!" The Commissar called out, coming around the lip and firing, clipping a cultist in the head his blood, a crimson spray igniting all over the wall.
However, the cultists sooned formed a coherant line and it wasn't long before even the Commissar realised that they had the superiour firepower and cover. An idea struck him now, he looked over a series of clumped dead fallen Kriegsmen, staring at what lay pinned to their belts. A medium wall of cover stood over where they were limp on the ground, and he looked over at the Praetorians.
"Can you boys give me some cover fire, I've got a plan." The trio nodded and began pumping out intense and accurate shots into the cultist line. Falkirk made a dash and slid into the cover, a lasshot whizzed passed his arm, slightly burning his flesh. He grunted in pain but was relieved to see he was alive, he gave Perigrad a thumbs up to assure him he was okay. He pulled the nearest cultist body towards him and unclipped the two grenades on his belt. He primed one and wearily assessed the range, tossing it over the lip of the wall and letting it drop.
It fell just short, but blasted a chunk of the wall over, screaming cultists were crushed underneath the massive and heavy tables being used as cover. He was just about to prime the grenade when all of the shooting seemed to stop, and a familiar, cool laughter rang out across the cafeterium.
"Bravo Hestin, bravo."
"Fernz you bastard!" Falkirk roared out from his covered positon.
"Come now, no need for name calling! It seems your friends are trying to save you... how utterly pathetic. I'm afraid this game has gone on for too long Hestin, but I need you alive. Kill the rest boys."
The cultists seemed to ignite with fury and they poured over their makeshift wall in a charge.
"By the Empera'!" One of the bodyguards shouted opening fire from his position. Falkirk slid the grenade into the centre of the room, blowing at least six cultists to pieces and wounding at least three other. He lifted his own lasrifle and began peppering the charging enemy with fire.
The trained shots killed the first wave of cultists, but more had taken firing positions on the wall and it became clear of the outcome of this fight.
Despite the racquet of gunfire and war, all Falkirk could hear was the icy, evil laughter of Fernz.
Horus raged among the cultists like the blood god they worshipped. His men fired at the frantically retreating cultists and the floor was slick with blood, old and new alike. As the last traitor fell Horus and his men charged onwards, stumbling into the cafeteria, where Fernz stood waiting for them. He himself retreated out but his bodyguards opened fire immediately. Horus yelled with rage: "Let the base run with traitor blood boys! The emperor guides our hands! We are the hammer of the emperor and those maggots are just a obstacle waiting to be crushed by us!" His men roared their approval and returned fire.
Sandara was breathing hard as the imperial blasted away at the orks and cultists outside the camp. She was completely exhausted.
The gunfire studdered for a moment, and then all hell broke loose. The cultists seemed to be diverting their attention to something else. Falkirk leaned around his cover and looked back at the Praetorians. Renty and Duffy were cheering with delight and dancing, while Major Perigrad stood looking admirably.
"Reinforcements, sah!" Falkirk beamed at the Major roared with delight. He looked back towards the intense fire fight and gathered his wit.
"Come on lads we need to get in there!" The Praetorians nodded and came up to Falkirk's position. The ad hoc squad fired discplined and trained shots, blasting the cultists in the back and annihilating any form of retaliation that could be mustered. It wasn't long before the cultists realised how bad of a position they were in, and morale began to waver.
Close combat had taken place in the cafeterium now, the Krieg soldiers fighting their fallen brothers in a bloody mess of violence. Falkirk and his friends joined the fight, he ran in firing point blank into the face of a cultists, his skull exploding from the heated shot and melting.
He bashed another cultist in the back of the neck, snapping it, and kicking the legs out from under him. He crouched and unleashed two trained shots, confirming a double kill. All around him he Krieg soldiers were overpowering the cultist resistance and soon every last one of the heretics lay dead in heaps on the ground.
Falkirk wiped sweat and blood from his face and was pulled up by Major Perigrad.
"Dammit Horus," He looked over as he saw the Sergeant finishing off a cultist as the traitour tried to crawl away on the ground, "But thank you. How did you figure it all out? And where the hell did Fernz go?"
Then the lights went out and everyone was concealed in darkness.
The Ork line was crushed, the Imperial forces whooping as they drove off the last of the greenskins. A break in the Orkish line meant rest, a meal, and perhaps even some relaxation. The human line steadied, forming parties that would alternate on their break and prepped themselves in case of another raid. It had been a bloody day but they had driven the xenos back.
"What in the emperors name? Where's the electricity?" Horus asked when suddenly his hand shot up to his comm unit. "Damn I can't contact Kagmar or anyone else. This is just what happened before the massacre!" thinking back to the terrible dark eldar attack on the city he had guarded Horus shivered.
Sandara had long drifted into a light sleep and only woke for a short time because of the cheering before returning to the land of dreams.
Kagmar was chasing after the Orks, but when he tried to contact Horus the comms equipment wouldnt work. With a forenoding feeling he ordered his men to fall back.
All across the fortress, the power went dead, the entire area cloaked in darkness. The only light came from the starry sky above their heads, and a wave of nervous tension evoked the rejoicing Imperial lines. Something was going on. Com lines were dead, lasgun packs were drained, it was almost as if something was sucking the power clean out of the fort.
The darkness was absolute, Falkirk could barely see the man in front of him. "Stay close, dammit I bet Fernz was behind this." The group stayed in a tight formation, eyes outward and weapons pointed all around sweeping.
"My bloody light won't turn on." Duffy said, smashing his lasgun with his palm in frustration.
"Neither will mine." Renty spoke up, his voice barely masking the fear he felt inside.
Falkirk nodded, realising that there was more going on than they could imagine.
"Our plan right now should be getting to the surface, this place is a death trap we don't know how many men Fernz has got but we do know that the men up top with Kagmar are allies, Horus, take point. Perigrad, Renton and Duff, you watch the rear. Everyone else stay tight, eyes on alert, move 'em out."
And with that the ad hoc squad began trudging back to the surface of the HQ.
He stalked quietly, sweeping low and steadying his rifle across some ruined wall paraphet. He studied the humans individually, his scope moving from one head to the other in slow graceful arcs. The humans were confused, it seems that the Farseer hadn't failed on her end.
"Move." Shadows emerged from all over the area, as one the cloaked squad of five swiftly swept forward towards the Imperial HQ.
Horus followed Falkirk to the surface but remained ready for battle, his chainsword humming and his boltguns trigger about to be pulled. His men were also ready for anything. They knew about the corsair attacks and how they destroyed whole planets in a matter of days.
Sandara was still sound asleep.
The Orks seemed to be regrouping in the distance, the faint sound of Wartrukks and other gastly sounds of Ork machinery were clinking off. The Imperials readied themselves, but with half of their weapons off line for no logical explaination, moral was low and the line was unprepared.
To make things worse it began to rain.
Falkirk shuddered as the cool rain pounded all around them. "Come on lads." They began bumping into lost and confused soldiers and soon their ad hoc squad began to grow in number. They hunkered down in the medical tents where luckly, no electronic equipment were being used for operational procedure. Kriegsmen were very precise on their wounded, they wanted no mistakes and they realised they could fight in very verastile and abstract locations, they were prepared something Falkirk had to admire.
"Sah, what do you make of all this?" Perigrad himself was confused, staring off into the torret of rain.
"All so unexpected isn't it?" There had been no detection of rain and yet here a substancial down pour had enveloped the entire area. Something was going on, but what?
In the distance the sound of a scream of agony erupted, Falkirk gripped his chainsword tightly, "Horus, get your men assembled and follow me," He turned to face the Praetorians, "I need you three to get this line under control... and find a certain Corporal Kagmar, you'll find him useful. Let's move it!" After issuing his orders, the Commissar embarked, trudging almost blindly through the rain to the source of the scream.
"Horus? Where the he-, oh there you are," He gripped his friends shoulder tightly, "What do you think of all this? What the hell is going on?"
It penetrated his mind, the though envoking his entire being.
Press onwards, remain undetected. It was a feminine voice, yet chilling to the bone.
Of course Farseer, as you command, our mission will be complete.
The Rangers fanned out, in a wide arc covering ground just as the massive rain storm came to give them cover. He didn't know how she managed such things of power, but it wasn't his place to know or to ask. The Path of the Outcast was indeed a lonesome one.
His squad swiftly took into the Imperial fortification, the defenses weak as the rain and their camo cloaks provided excellent cover and stealth, not to mention the power was knocked out for miles on end. They moved through the torrent, but not blindly. They had a mission, a purpose here, they knew what they were after and they knew the Humans were to inferior to realise what they were sitting on.
Target ahead, alone. Take him? Another thought came into his mind, he responded,
Take him. The shot resounded silently clipping the human in the throat, he erupted in a scream. Daeconer's eyes lit up, raising his own rifle he finished the human off with a shot to the head. The body crumpled over in a head on its side.
They converged on the body, creating a ring around it while Daeconer searched it. Strange markings and tears were on this ones uniform, Chaos... So the Humans had stumbled onto it. The blind fools, the blind, blind fools.
Let's go. They nestled quietly into an abandoned tent, Daeconer studied over his mission in his mind one last time. He could feel the taint, the dark presence of Chaos, and it wracked his body in profane and unspeakable ways. His mission would be completed here.
Horus looked at the commisar, dazed. He had been in a world of pain, reliving the massacre. "To me it looks like the witchcraft of eldar corsairs sir." Horus answered Falkirks. "If I'm right we'd better prepare quickly. Those pigs strike from the shadows." Horus shuddered as a terrible thought entered his mind: "There might even be some of that scum inside our fortification."
Sandara was stirring.
Kagmar had a fore boding feeling he had to get to the commisar.
Major Perigrad and his two bodyguards bolted towards the Imperial lines, they searched amongst the men. "Kagmar? Kagmar? Are you bloody Kagmar?" Moving amongst the ranks of men, a strange confusion and sense of dread seemed to envelope the soldiers. Perigrad nodded to a few soldiers who were sitting about, "Get off your lazy arses and look for a Corporal Kagmar!" With a few 'Yes, Sir!'s the search for the Corporal began to narrow down. Finally he stumbled upon a lone soldier who was glancing off into the distance, his uniform bore the insignia of Corporal and he knew at once he had found his man.
"Corporal Kagmar, my name is Major Perigrad, I've got some news to tell you."
They stumbled upon the dead corpse, two shots had taken the man out and Falkirk looked wearily at the body. Definatley Eldar design, the long rifles had pierced the poor soul and killed him almost instantly. But he inspected the uniform closer, odd symbology and inscriptions were scrawled across his flak armour and for a moment the Commissar was taken aback, this was indeed a fallen Kriegsman.
"The hell is this?" He whispered half to himself. No footprints or any other signs of life were in the area but he knew he was standing out in what could be a kill zone. He lifted his head and gazed the around, he hadn't noticed how hard it was raining but the downpour was becoming absolute.
"I can't see a frakking thing." One of the Krieg soldiers muttered, another one agreeing.
An explosion rippled somewhere where a clump of tents were and the sounds of a violent, albeit, brief firefight broke out.
"Seems we're on the trail Horus, let's move. Quiet as you like boys." They crept low, sweeping over into the makeshift tent city and into one of the olive green and musty brown tents. It was eerily silent after the ripple of battle had sounded, and no signs of any action were to be seen. Something had exploded that much was for certain, and there were xenos here, that was also true.
Heretics and Xenos, just what he needed creeping along his back door at a time like this. His bolt pistol was clenched tightly in his hands and he looked about alert and ready. He poked his head out of the tent quickly and took a glimpse down the road where he saw another body hunched over dead.
"Horus, I think we're onto something." He was staring at the ground, a trail of blood making a path as rain splashed, turning the hard ground to a light mud.
Look out! The Farseer had roared into his mind and he lifted his gaze. Sweeping low onto the ground and using his Chameline Cloak to conceal him, he poked his body out into the road of the tent city where a patrol of at least a dozen of the humans were searching about. They were complaining,
"Gun isn't shooting."
"Shut up would you, keep it quiet." The way they talked, their voices twisted... it was the work of Chaos at its finest.
Thirteen Targets. Mark, fire on my command.
He faintly heard the setting up of firing positions as his team took aim.
Fire. The Rangers unleashed a volley of destruction into the fallen human squad. They dropped all over, shots blasting through brain and skull creating a gory mess. One of the humans roared and unpinned a grenade, priming it but getting clipped in the throat and dropping, the grenade detonating in the midst of the cultist squad.
Blood and body parts spewed off in all directions, one of the cultists however had lived and made a blind dash down the road past the Eldar who watched gracefully. Daeconer lifted his rifle and in one fell swoop fired, catching the human in the back of the head and dropping him face first into the mud. Blood was trailing as the rain created a sloppy mess of mud, organs, blood, and body.
Keep moving. The Eldar progressed, dashing across the open ground and sliding into another row of tents. He could feel the presence growing stronger, they were nearing their target.
"Humans to the rear." One of the squad brothers hissed out.
Daeconer turned his attention to him momentarily, "Felit'a, watch them."
The Eldar named Felit'a nodded and swooped about, crouching and aiming down the sights of his rifle. He shook his head, they were not Chaos but standard Imperial.
"Ignore them. Move." The squad progressed out the rear of the tents and began swiftly and silently cascading forward, providing overwatch for one another as they moved.
And then they heard the faintest thing, it chilled him deeply, the sound of manic laughter.
Horus looked up. He thought he had seen a flicker in the distance. "Sir, I think there's something over there." he said, pointing to the location where he had spotted the movement.
Sandara made her way through the frontline looking for Falkirk, maybe he knew what was going on.
Kagmar snapped to attention.
"Yes sir what is it?"
Major Perigrad looked the boy over, he was still young but seemed to have decades of experience behind his eyes. "Our Commissar Falkirk is in some trouble, he'll need your help." He nodded off in the distance past the heavy rain storm, "Head off that way to the abandoned sector of base, you'll link up with the Commissar and some of the boys there, good luck, we'll keep this line held Corporal." He nodded to Kagmar and pushed him on us way. He stared ahead now over the ramparts, the artillery behind him beginning bombardments of the enemy as they rolled up into positions. Soon the fight would be brought straight to the greenskins... soon...
Falkirk looked over at Horus for a moment and then followed his gaze, "It could be rain playing tricks on you Sergeant, but we'll check it out anyways there's definatley something out here." He nodded and looked over at his squad. They moved into action, taking up firing positions and setting up covering solutions. They began a very concious trek across the open ground into the empty tent. Falkirk stormed it first, bolt pistol raised at the ready, the tent however was empty.
There was no sign of any life in it, no sign of any recent disturbances. He bit his lower lip in confusion, something was go-
An explosion sounded nearby, the tent around them engulfed in flame. "Down! EVERYONE DOWN!" The Commissar roared out orders as light mortar shells exploded all around them. What the hell was going on?
"Horus, take three and start heading on the left flank, I'll take the rest and form a pickett here, MOVE!"
We're being followed. Daeconer could have laughed at the overly cautious humans, foolish Jresda had exposed himself momentarily and one of the humans had seen him. He pushed back his brothers, they would need to keep moving the enemy was nearby.
They moved ahead, Felit'a watching the humans at the rear in case they made a sudden lunge. Eyes ahead he felt his target, they were here. An old abandoned bombed out sector of the Human Compound lay ahead, there was no sign of life but Daeconer was not stupid, he could smell the stench of Chaos miles away and the stench was strongest here. He nodded, his Rangers making firing positions around the area, aiming down the sights as he slid into a ruined concrete building he scanned the area.
The laughter started distantly, straight ahead he saw a head movement and then all hell broke loose. The cultists were holed up in buildings with heavy weapons, unleashing salvos of heavy bolter fire into their positions. He should have known the humans would have used such tactics, their riflemen were armed with stubrifles, they must of raided some old armoury.
"Kill them!" He lifted his rifle and scanned, the sight locked over one of the cultists heads as he loaded a new clip into his heavy bolter. He pulled the trigger, his long rifle's bullet smashing into the face of the unlucky human, his brain splattering against the back wall. He fired two more shots, killing his two partners and smiled.
Daeconer, he is escaping. The Farseer's thought was nervous, he could understand, she had felt his evil presence and knew he would be here some months ago. In vain the Eldar had searched and finally they had found their man. The foolish Imperials had abandoned the atmosphere allowing the Eldar to take control of the system. Curiously he pondered what these humans were still doing here, dismissing the thought he returned to his mission.
Focus fire on our target, do not let him escape. Trained fire was making quick work of the hasty defenses when all of a sudden the rear lines exploded. The cultists were firing mortars but they were dropping to far overhead, Daeconer didn't understand, neither did his six man team. They continued firing, mopping up what they could but it became clear of the superiour firepower. One of his Rangers grunted and slumped over next to him.
Teliya is hit, Teliya is hit! He felt another body slide next to the grunting body of Teliya as the teams medic, Felit'a got to work.
He provided whatever cover he could but he was ultimately pinned down, unable to move, unable to even breath.
I will be fine Farseer, I will be fine.
Horus nodded and started to take his team down the flank.
Sandara stamped her foot angrily. Where was that useless soldier?
"You heard the Major men, Lets go!" and they broke into a run
Major Perigrad organised the defense of the compound, preparing frontal infantry blockades in case of an Ork raid. Artillery bomardments were annihilating the forward green skin threats, smashing into them and creating havoc.
Falkirk swore, somewhere ahead a bloody firefight had just taken place. The mortar shells were still falling, creating a bloody ruin amongst those not quick enough. "Move up!" He crawled forward, cover his head as a mortar round punctured a little ways ahead of him smothering him in dirt and mud. He swore, wiping the muck from his face and continuing forward.
They came to a small area, the old abandoned sector of the base and all hell was breaking loose. "What in the fu-" Another mortar exploded next to him, sending him flying into the air and slamming him into the ground.
"Commissar!" One of the soldiers yelled, he waved off the aid to dazed to fully understand what had happened. He felt severe pain in his left shoulder, his head was spinning wildly. Stubber rounds were flying all over the place, he couldn't move even if he wanted to. A soldier was bent over him, speaking to him but he could hear no words. A stubber took the man in the neck and a second finished him in the side of the head. His body slumped over to the side blood smearing across the Commissar's uniform.
His ears were ringing, lifting his head ever so slightly he saw the remnants of his squad being torn apart but gunfire, he tried to tell them to stay down but he couldn't open his mouth. Without warning, unfamiliar hands gripped him,
Do not move Human, we will not harm you.
Daeconer had noticed the humans charge from the rear just as the enemy began to open up with waves of fire. He slipped his rifle up and fired another shot, killing another target and stopping the flow of heavy bolter fire for just a second. The Chaos fiends were laying down some serious firepower, Felit'a was still working on patching Teliya up.
The foolish Humans charged into the clearing, whooping and firing whatever still shot at the targets. They seemed taken aback by the torrent of gunfire, falling over each other and dying in a wave. He saw one of them, a leader most likely go flying into the air in agony, he watched the body fall.
One of his men tried to save him but was shot in the head, the Human leader was in great pain but was trying to lead his men. Admirable, perhaps he would be useful.
Using his agility only an Eldar would have, he swept low in a crawl. His cloak covering him from unwanted eyes but not from gunfire, explosions were rocking all around him.
Farseer, call off the psychic overloads of the Humans guns, we need them. Almost at once a sudden electric ping left the air, a few of the Humans armed with their petty rifles were pulling the trigger still beliving they wouldn't fire, but now they did. Lasshots were bounding back towards the cultists.
He slid behind the Human and gripped him by the shoulders,
Do not move Human, we will not harm you.
The amount of willpower and torment in this mans mind nearly shook him to the bone, but he snapped out of his trance. He dragged the human back towards the Rangers who were still firing back now, the Humans seemed to be responding and more were appearing on the flank. There was a chance to win this,
"Felit'a!" He called over to his friend who looked up, hands soaked with the blood of Teliya, "Help!" Felit'a at Teliya who waved him off, sitting back up and firing over the wall to provide some covering fire.
Felit'a helped Daeconer pull the body of Falkirk to a low wall paraphet and began adminstering basic therapies to help revive him. The poor Humans face seemed lost, confused, dazed, he had no idea what was going on.
"Will he live?"
"Yes Daeconer, his will... I have never encountered such a powerful display of it before."
(Electricity is back! The Eldar have stopped their psychic storm; lasguns can now fire again and anything running off electric power is back online.)
Horus saw the eldar drag Falkirk away. He understood that it was now up to him to stop the cultists. "CHARGE!!! IN THE NAME OF THE EMPEROR!!!" Horus roared, running towards the cultists, "Ready your grenades! Let's drive from their cover!" His men followed his commands and soon grenades were raining down on the cultist position.
Sandara spotted Kagmar at last but was distracted as she saw how, with a great "WAAAAAGH!!!", a bunch of stormboyz launched themselves toward the Krieg lines. She was needed here.
Kagmar charged at the attacking Eldar "Men time to save the Commissar!"
but, instead of fighting with actual weapons, they swordfought with their 3 inch chodes
You are safe now human. The voice sounded distant, yet so near. It echoed throughout the cavarn of his brain. He tried to stand but felt hands pin him down. His vision began returning ever so slightly, the roar of warfare pinging into his eardrums. It all came back to him at once.
He lunged upwards, slamming whatever was holding him down off of him onto the ground. He lifted his fist and sent it smashing across a face, he heard a grunt followed by sharp whispering.
"Stop." The voice was directly behind him, he felt the press of a barrel against the back of his head. Taking sharp breaths he stared down at the frail figure of an Eldar, piercing eyes gazing back up at him the nose was bleeding slightly.
He couldn't bring himself to speak but there was no need, the Eldar behind him twisted him around and made him face him. He was wearing the standard Eldar helmet, a dark oddly coloured cloak draped about him that seemed to make bits of his body hard to tell from the rough back drop.
"We saved you Human, now you will save us." He lifted his gaze over the paraphet and nodded towards the cultist positions. Falkirk followed the stare and took stock of the situaton. His men were all around him, he could distinctly hear the roaring of Sergeant Horus as he beckoned the men on.
"How?" Was all he could manage to sputter out. He still had no idea what the hell the Eldar were doing on this planet, but he could deal with that later. There was a threat, and it seemed the Eldar were up for peace... for now.
"We will flank this position but you must keep up a firm resistance, the guard cannot fall. We are after someone you may know, but that is not for you to understand. We will rid of him and leave."
The Eldar seemed serious, he didn't flinch throughout his entire speech. He bit his lower lip tenderly, stubber rounds punching overhead and killing a handful of Imperials behind him.
"Fine," the Eldar began to move but he continued, "But you must give your word you will not betray me or my men." The Eldar seemed to laugh for a moment, it was soft and shallow.
"Yes Human, my... 'word' will be kept intact. Follow through on your end and none of your men will fall to Eldar this day." With that the Eldar stole off, he was left sitting against a wall paraphet. He saw Kagmar in the distance with a squad of men running towards him, he waved them over. Perhaps Kagmar could make some sense of this, he sure as hell couldn't.
A gang of negroes were told about Eldar and decided they would bust a few caps in dat nigga and throw some hands
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