An evolving story in three parts:
Part 3 is based on events and battles the 512th took place in during
Medusa V. Inquisitor Lord Alimente was the leader of a friends Deamon-hunters
army, we usually teamed up. The 512th's make up changed in both game play and
fluffwise after and near the end of Medusa campaign. Part 3 will be action
packed, and many things will come back such as the dream from way back to
Part 1 chapter 1....pay attention to details, you may pick up some secrets.
Chapter 1: Veterans
“Negotiation is surrender.”
4 Years Later…
The fire from the Valkyries engines roared and shrieked like a
banshee as it screamed through the upper-atmosphere. It was one of a couple
dozen; each had a red “I” emblazoned on it. Chaos bodies and skulls were
draped on the prow in chains, burned black from multiple atmospheric
entrees, Imperial praises and hymns sprayed onto the side of the vehicle by
the soldiers. It seemed to chaos as if it was a demon of the Imperium, a
harbinger of doom to the forces of the warp. One Valkyrie had the skull of a
Bloodthirster chained to its prow.
Inside the Valkyrie, a red light bathed the occupants. Ferin
sat his head back against the cool metal, his eyes closed. His face was
scared and worn. A signal beeped for the men to get ready. All of them were
veterans. Some had demon tooth necklaces, laces strung with ammo shells, or
exotic close combat weapons. As one they bowed their heads and gave a prayer
to the Emperor before standing up, donning their helmets to complete the
carapace, full body armor, and checking their grav-shutes. Ferin stood. He
had changed, he was more muscular, and his arm whirred and clacked as he
opened and shut his bionic fingers. His arm had been taken during a battle
on Cadia. The mark of Cegorach on his other arm burned a little.
The light turned yellow. He punched a button next to the door,
and the air roared and howled as it entered. He could see several other
ships out in the sky, flying high over the industrial world, the small
blooms of fire could be seen as artillery racked the surface, and war raged
below. Ferin took his power axe from his back, and drew his power sword as
well. He looked back at his men. Several had powered halberds with built in
storm bolters, smaller than a marines, but still effective. Another two had
chain axes, and the last had a power blade. They were his most competent
veterans. Those whose prowess in combat had earned his recognition.
The light suddenly turned green, and Ferin walked to the door
and threw himself out, the Valkyries still very high. The air whistled
passed his ears, and tugged on exposed cloth. He plummeted towards the
buildings below like a rock. Everything was getting bigger, and clearer as
he neared. A hundred yards from the ground he fired the grav-shute, and
weapon tracers began to stitch the sky around him. The grav-shute roared as
it tried to counter the speed, blue fire flaming from the jets. At only a
yard from the ground he stopped and shut the grav-shute down. He hit the
asphalt with a thump, going onto a knee to absorb the fall. The avian like
cries of Kroot reached his ears. He quickly stood up, parried the blow of a
Kroot warrior as it jumped at him, twisted and sunk the power axe into the
xenos back. It gave a cry of pain and then fell to the ground dead. He
wrench his axe free and dodged a blow from a second Kroot. Suddenly it
exploded from a hail of bolt fire. From behind him, Ferin saw his men
advancing up to his position, weapons raised.
“Took you long enough.” Ferin said with a grin.
He could not see the expression of his men from behind the helmets, but one
gave him the thumbs up.
All around them, the platoon was landing, the screams of grav-shutes
splitting the air. The thunderous cracking of lasguns and hellguns rent the
air, soon followed by the cries of Kroot. Their mission was to destroy the
small Tau task force that had landed on this planet for recon, it was
rumored they had been tainted by chaos after they had a small skirmish with
a force of the Night Lords.
The roar of jets suddenly broke through everything else. Looking up Ferin
saw the sentinels dropping from the skies, their legs shot fire from drop
jets attached to them. They hit the asphalt with a clunk. They were armed to
the teeth, each with a couple hellfire rocket launchers, a comms system, a
auto-cannon, and supplies for the pilot if ever the vehicle was immobilized.
Each was decked in trophies, and one bore a banner of the Inquisition upon
its back, which fluttered in the wind. The sayings sprayed onto the armor
were not prayers or anything else though; they were purely taunting, crude
statements.
Ferin advanced at the head of his platoon, each and every man a
veteran and equal of the best the Imperium could offer. The street lit up
with lasfire, the crimson bolts cutting down Kroot. Behind him, the clunking
feet of a sentinel could be heard.
Suddenly with a whine of anti-grav engines, several Devil fish
transports came out from behind a corner. This was followed by the wails of
jump packs, as crisis suits landed down on top of the buildings along the
street. The platoon immediately split and took cover. The Tau fire warriors
ran out of the devilfish and immediately opened fire with the crisis suits,
bathing the street in plasma. The sentinel stood against this fire, its
auto-cannon thudding. A devil fish was penetrated by a cannon round, and
blossomed into flames. Missiles roared from their launchers on the sentinel,
streaking through the air leaving trails of smoke and slammed into a
Devilfish, and fire warriors, blowing off an engine, and throwing Tau into
the air.
The men ducked out of cover, braving the storm of fire and
opened up. The fire exchange was fierce. Ferin ducked out on to the street,
taking a knee and sighting along his bolt pistol, it barked as he pulled the
trigger repeatedly. Tau and Guard both fell to each others fire. Several
crisis suits crashed to the street, destroyed by a wave of las and plasma
fire. Plasma rounds filled the air from the Tau, splashing against the
Sentinel as it returned with its auto-cannon, and hellfire missiles. A
plasma round hit Ferin in the shoulder, but only left a scorch mark on the
armor as it splashed off. He held down the trigger to the pistol, sweeping
it over the Tau ranks, watching as their bodies exploded into blood from the
explosive rounds.
“Men! Advance!” Ferin roared and stood, advancing into the fire.
The men followed him obediently, firing weapons from the waste,
pouring as much fire as possible into the Tau. The Sentinels leg was
suddenly blown off, making it topple with a crash to the ground. The pilot
rolled out, and grabbed the lascarbine from its holster. Several men took
cover behind the sentinel, including Ferin. The Tau were throwing so much
fire into the air, the Imperial forces were pinned down.
“Sir! I see about ten Fire Warrior squads, a last Devilfish, and a Hammerhead.
The roof tops are down to six Crisis suits!” Falco said, his lip torn
open, split down the middle.
Ferin looked around the side of the sentinel. Plasma fire sizzled through
the air and hit the Sentinal above his head. Then he saw the Hammer head.
The massive railgun was swiveling around to zero onto the sentinel.
“Fren! Call in the Valkyries! Airstrike on that Hammerhead! NOW!” Ferin
roared.
Fren talked quickly through the vox.
Several seconds later the screams of Valkyries tore through the
air, and rockets streaked through the sky down the streets as the aircraft
roared over Ferins position. The rockets impacted on and around the
Hammerhead, exploding against the thick armor. Finally one tore into it and
it burst into flames, and sank to the ground with a thud. The Tau were
scattered as they looked for cover. Ferin watched the Valkyries fly off and
stood up from around the sentinel
“Charge! For the Emperor!” Feirn roared.
Men broke from cover, storming up the street. They seemed
emotionless, as their carapace covered them from head to toe, they advanced
through the smoke and scattered fire, hellguns blazing. Ferin advanced on
point. His bolt pistol barking as he pulled the trigger. As they got within
ten yards of the Tau, the fire intensified dramatically and Ferin could see
the crimson hellgun fire intermingled with plasma bolts. The sound of the
firefight was intense, and Tau fell, thrown back. The Guard were force to
duck into cover. The fire storm stopped as both sides looked at each other.
Ferin turned to Falco.
“Falco, how much fuel do you and your men have left in your grav-shutes?”
Ferin asked.
“Not a lot sir. Enough for maybe a few seconds of burn time. Why?” Falco
asked.
“Because I have an idea.” Ferin said and checked his grav-shute.
“When I say jump. Jump and fire your grav-shutes in a short burst towards
the Tau lines.” Ferin said.
Falco grinned, “A surprise assault. Bold, daring, stupid. I like it.”
“Make sure your men have their close combat weapons out.” Ferin said and
looked around the corner. The area was instantly saturated in fire.
“All squads listen up.” Ferin said into his voxbead.
“When I give the order, throw grenades and hose the Tau down. First squad
and I are assaulting, give us cover, when we hit the enemy, do the same
thing we do.” Ferin said.
Ferin checked his straps and weapons and nodded to Falco.
“On wings of fire, my old friend.”
“On wings of fire.” Falco responded.
“FIRE!” Ferin roared.
The flat crump of grenades broke the silence, and hellgun fire
tore into the Tau. Ferin stood back from the small wall of rubble,
holstering his pistol and drawing his sword nodding to Falco. As one they
jumped and fired the grav-shutes. The jets boosted them up, high into the
air, arcing over the rubble towards the Tau. The Tau just looked on in
surprise. Ferin fired the grav-shute just before he landed heavily on the
chest of a Firewarrior, his power sword sinking into its chest. The rest of
Ferin’s retinue and first squad landed amongst the Tau, their weapons
clanged together as the two forces locked in combat.
Ferin wrenched his sword from the dead Firewarrior, and cleaved
open the chest plate of another with his axe. He ducked under a sudden swing
of a curved sword, and came up, opening the aliens abdomen with a slash of
his sword, and quickly brought it up again to parry a blow. He kicked the
warrior in the chest, sending it sprawling to the ground. The Tau were
mighty in a fire fight, but now Ferin and his men held the advantage of
strength and martial prowess. The small aliens could do nothing as Ferin and
his men hacked them down.
A lone robed figure stood silently in front of the destroyed
hammer head, a gold staff in it’s hands. Ferin hacked through two fire
warriors, his axe cleaving the head of one clean off. He stepped toward the
alien, his sword and axe dripping with blood, and Tau blood spattered on his
armor and Carapace, he looked utterly feral, compared to the clean, pristine
alien.
“You Imperials seek only war and death. We seek only peace. Why is it that
that can never be arranged. Negotiations can be a benefit of us both.” The
whizzend alien said calmly, no fear shown in its face.
“The only negotiation is surrender.” Ferin said.
“We do not surrender.” The robed figure said.
“Then you die.” Ferin said, and thrust his sword into the smaller beings
chest. It came out the back with a great burst of blood and bone.
As he withdrew the blade, the Tau fell to the ground, dead.
Upon seeing this, the other Tau seemed to become scared. They looked at the
Imperials nervously, trying to back away. Ferin looked at them and saw the
fear. He looked back at the dead alien, and noticed something on the chest
of its robes. A small eight-pointed symbol. Chaos. He looked back at the
aliens with a grim set jaw.
“Destroy them to the last.” He said onto his vox-bead.
The slaughter lasted a mere number of minutes as his men
dispatched the enemy. When they were done, they continued up the street
towards the plaza where the regrouping point was for the company. The other
two platoons were already there, looking just as battle worn.
“Ferin. What took you so long?” Grevane asked. A Captains pin shone on
his chest. He walked with an off beat clanking as his bionic leg hit the
ground, his obsidian black eye glinted.
“Sorry sir. We had a bit of a road bump.” Ferin said with a salute.
“Very well. The Valkyries are on the way and we have redeployment orders.
We are leaving this sector.” Grevane said with a grin.
The company had been assigned to this sector by the Imperial command, to be
used as counter strikes against Tau invasion forces. They had encountered
several so far, at least one of their commanders almost wet himself upon
sight of the hellish looking Valkyries. Ferin was pretty sure there were
already stories circulating.
“Where are we headed to sir?” Ferin asked.
Suddenly a man walked up behind Boris, his bulky armor making him look
massive, a great “I” emblazoned on his chest.
“You are to be under my command as we attempt to stall the forces of Chaos
upon the planet Medusa V.” Inquisitor Alimente said.
Chapter 2: Briefing
“It’s so broken; we have to break it to fix it!”
The dull, constant thrumming was by now a familiar sound to
Ferin as he lay on his back in his bunk. His platoon was slated to do some
training in little more than five minutes, so Ferin was relaxing. They had
been in the warp now for several weeks, and were now only several days out
from the planet of Medusa V. He lay in his dark green shirt and fatigues.
A knock rang on the steel door and Falco stepped in.
“Sir, the captain wants you in the briefing room.” He said.
Ferin stood up from the bed, and took his bionic arm. It clicked into place,
and his fingers clacked as he flexed it.
“Very well, take over the platoons training, we are on the obstacle course
today.” Ferin said, donning his jacket, camouflaged the same as his pants.
He strode from the room, bolt pistol holstered on his waist.
Men he passed nodded to him. The company knew Ferin well, and respected him.
He remained more of a legend to the space squids on the Strike Cruiser the
512th was assigned to. Due to the ships size, the men of the Guard only knew
a few of the crew, but stories circulate, and the men tell plenty of
stories.
It did not take long to get to the briefing room; it was
located centrally to everything, to help in times needing rapid deployment.
It had two guards posted at the entrance, lasguns held at the ready,
carapace covering from head to toe, the helmets visor covering their faces,
making them look rather intimidating. They nodded to Ferin as he entered the
room. The room was circular, big enough for a good thirty people. The main
aspect of the room though was the holo-machine in the center, and the
techpriest who stood next to it to operate the ancient device. A u-shaped
table circled around the machine and several men sat there. Ikonovitz, the
ships captain, Grevane, commander of the 512th, Hykowa, Lieutenant of 2nd
Platoon, Francoy, the young commander of 3rd Platoon, Teros, with his three
lieutenants, Lord General Mixilia, a rather attractive general in Ferin’s
opinion, but she was a cold woman, cool, calculating, and rather deadly.
Teros was the commanding officer of the rather large 45th Yosarian Army. A
regiment of some 5000 men, and several hundred tanks.
At the head of the u sat the overall command. The head of all
forces in this sector. Lord Inquisitor Alimente. He sat calmly, with an air
of supremacy and authority. As Inquisitors go, he was not bad. He was not so
zealous that minor things weren’t allowed to be let go, and he was a
brave, and skilled fighter and leader. Ferin respected him. Next to him sat
Commissar Leoniv Gorshak, commissar of 512th Company. He was a good man. He
thought logically, not letting religious fervor cloud his judgment. If it
was wise to retreat, he would allow the order, if it were wise to cancel the
engagement, he would.
Ferin sat down next to Grevane, and took a brief glance at the
datapad at his spot. The image of a red and brown planet leapt into view,
and a great sea of boiling red mass near it in space.
“As you can see, Medusa V is an industrial world.” Alimente said
suddenly, rising and walking around the table.
The techpriest leaned over the holo-machine, its mechadentrites, and hands
working the controls. A green 3-D image of Medusa V leapt to view, about as
big as Ferin was tall.
“It is a vital world, and heavily populated. And a great warpstorm is
about to swallow it whole.” The Inquisitor continued.
The holo-image zoomed out to show the planet and the mass of boiling warp
energy.
“This tear in the material space is called Van Grothes Rapidity, or Hells
Slingshot by locals. It had been stable for some time, and provided faster
warp travel to local starships. It is growing now though. Chaos is coxing it
towards the planet. The leader of the chaos invasion is one Ygethmor. This
is his last test that he must complete before he can be given demon hood.”
Alimente paced around the image, and nodded to the priest.
The image zoomed back to the planet.
“We are assigned to the Eurayles Sector of the planet.” Alimente said,
pointing to a sector. It flashed brighter and zoomed out showing a map.
“There is a strip mine, two hives, and one of the main spaceports of the
planet that must be defended. Our goal is two fold gentlemen and lady. The
primary of which is the safeguarding of the citizens as they are evacuated.
The second is to hunt down Chaos forces, specifically this Ygethmor.” The
Inquisitor said, clasping his hands behind his back and looking at the
group.
“My Lord.” Mixilia said.
“Yes General?”
“How exactly are we supposed to be hunting down this Chaos Lord?”
Alimenta smiled.
“Actually General, I should have been more clear. I and the 512th will be
on the hunt. They are well trained for this type of thing, and I have been
granted a request I sent in some time ago. It will arrive while we are on
planet.” He said.
Mixilia nodded.
Teros stood up.
“My Lord, will our force be combined with any others?” the wizened
Colonel asked.
“Yes, as a matter of fact. Thank you for reminding me. If you check your
data pads you will see we will be stopping shortly at a deep space way
station. Many fleets are massing there to regroup and prepare for the last
jump before planet. We will be combining with the 40th Corps. A combined
unit of many worlds and armies, primarily front line, and armored divisions.
The 512th though will be placed into an elite division, though small, it
seems to be formed of rather well known men. It is the 16th Division. It
consists of Drop Troops, and special forces.” Alimente said.
The Inquisitor looked around the room.
“Are there anymore questions?”
Everyone shook their heads.
“Good. We are exiting the warp in an hour. Get ready. This will be your
men’s last leisure time being granted for Emperor knows how long. We will
have one more brief briefing before your units go planet side. Dismissed.”
Ferin stood with Boris, and the other two Lieutenants. They headed out of
the room and stood in the hallway.
“So what do you think sir?” Hykowa asked Grevane.
“I don’t know. This will definitely be a challenging campaign,
especially with a warp storm closing in.” he said.
“Aye, that’s the thing that is worrying me.” Hykowa said.
The four began walking back to their barracks, their boots ringing on the
metal floor.
“Well, at least the men are being given some leave before hand. That is a
rare occurrence.” Ferin said, as they walked into the barracks.
Boris nodded.
“Yes, a last meal so it seems.”
Chapter 3: Leave
“Brave are those who know everything yet fear nothing.”
The peaceful blackness of space was suddenly torn open, the
warp boiling out, quickly followed by the Imperial Cruiser Martyr’s
Vengeance. The tear closed, and the blackness settled back in. The lights of
the ship glowed along its hull, it engines glowing with a dull blue. Several
flights of Thunderbird bombers and Lightning attack craft flew from its
landing bays, and formed around the great vessel. A massive eagle head stood
from the prow, its wings splayed back along the hull. As it cruised through
the silence of space, a cloud seemed to form in the distance around a moon
sized object. As the cruiser came closer, ships could be picked out in the
cloud. This was Imperial Way Station B467, nicknamed White Haven, for its
color.
The vessel cruised towards the space station, and several
escort craft broke from the cloud of fighters, bombers, light, medium, and
heavy warships. The three craft sped out towards the Martyr’s Vengeance on
an intercept course. This was usual security protocol. The forces on the
space station don’t know if the ship had been tainted by chaos or not so
they send in an escort.
“Imperial Battle Cruiser. This is Escort Patrol Gamma. State designation,
purpose, captain, and ID.” The comms crackled in the bridge of the
cruiser.
Captain Ikonovitz nodded to one of the servitors who opened the comms
channel for him, “This is Captain Ikonovitz of the Imperial Battle Cruiser
Martyr’s Vengeance. We are scheduled to arrive to link up with forces of
the 2nd Fleet transporting the 40th Corps. Ships identification is being
sent.”
“Very well Captain. We will escort you in. Welcome to White Haven.”
Ferin shrugged into his jacket, and holstered his knife and
bolt pistol. Falco stood at the door way dressed much the same way. The
ships engines have since powered down as it anchored itself to the space
station. The men were all itching for some leave, many had not had any for
many years. When they were dismissed, they all but ran off the ship into the
waiting Valkyries.
Ferin walked next to Falco.
“This is your first shore leave, isn’t it sir?” Falco asked.
“Yes it is.” Ferin replied, watching the men.
“Well, stick with me sir, I will show you what to do.”
The two boarded the Valkyrie. A minute or two later the
airlocks opened, and the transport was jettisoned into space, speeding for
the massive station. The ship landed in one of the massive landing bays with
several other Valkyries. The blast doors closed, and the ramp of the
transport clanged open. The men came running out, whooping and cheering as
they headed for the hanger door. Ferin looked around the massive landing
bay. Above them, a cruiser hung in dry dock, obvious battle damage on its
hull.
Ferin and Falco walked through the blast doors at the back of
the hanger, and into a large hallway. It was bustling with people. He saw
soldiers, navy personnel, and citizens. The two walked along the hall, Ferin
with his hands in his pockets, looking around. The halls were wide,
reinforced with steel. It was loud with the multitude of people talking, and
it seemed like a large maze.
The two finally turned off through a large door and came out
into a massive room. The room was big enough to hold a small town, and it
did. Buildings jut up, built on columns and around them. The two descended a
flight of stairs and into the street where people and soldiers were walking
around. Falco and Ferin nodded to a few men they knew as the Sergeant made a
bee line towards a small cart.
He paid the man and handed a sandwich to Ferin.
“Here you go Ferin. Not exactly real meat, but it is good and juicy, may
want to eat up sir, never know when you get semi-real food again.” Falco
said with a grin and took a big bite out of the sandwich.
Ferin bit into his and juices ran around his mouth. It was very good and he
quickly finished it, whipping his mouth. That’s when he caught the scent
of alcohol. Sharp and piercing. He walked towards a table with a small crowd
around it. A man sat in one of two seats at the table, a large mug of beer
in his hands. He was a big man, dark skinned, and had an odd accent to his
voice.
“Tallarn.” Falco said to Ferin.
“Tallarn?” Ferin raised an eyebrow.
“Aye, they are a people who live on a desert world, underground.” Falco
nodded.
The people around the table were in various uniforms. He saw the rags of
many poor industrial worlds, some Cadian uniforms, a couple large Catachans,
and a Valhallan.
“So. Would any be interested in a drinking game? It is not often we get
something more than water eh?” the Tallarn spoke.
Men immediately roared agreement at the request and several tables were set
up. The Tallarn faced a Cadian sergeant, the Valhallen faced one of the poor
Guardsman, and one of the Catachans faced another Cadian. Large drinks were
brought and placed in front of each opponent.
“Drink!” someone yelled, and the men immediately began gulping down the
drink. When they were finished they slammed the mug down and were served
another. Cheers began to break out around the tables. The first to go was
the Cadian drinking against the Catachan. The jungle fighter roared in
victory, raising a half empty mug. The next to go was the poor guardsman
against the Valhallen. It was still a tie though with the Tallarn and
Sargeant. They were both sweating by now, their faces blank as they
descended into drunkenness. The cheering became louder as they each finished
their fifth mug. As the sixth was set down, the Tallarns eyes rolled
back and he collapsed to the floor. Cheers broke out as men patted the
Sargeants back. The Sargeant grinned and then turned and vomited on the
floor. Men danced back from him yelling.
“What? Is this puny Cadian the only competition I am going to get?!” the
Catachan from before yelled.
The men around the area looked up at him and to each other. Everyone knew
the Catachans alcohol tolerance well. Ferin just grinned at the challenge
and stepped forward.
“Ill do it.” Ferin said. Looking up at the catachan who stood head and
shoulders over him.
The Catachan laughed.
“Well, if it isn’t a wee little boy who thinks he can drink! Your brave
lad, but you’ll probably hurt something.”
Ferin spat at the foot of the Catachan. A Fenrisian way of defiance, and a
challenge.
“Well see Mr. Muscles. Are you too scared?”
The Catachan barked laughter.
“That’s what you think. Fine, let’s do this! Get me six mugs! I think
the Cadian will be good with one.” Laughter broke out among the mass.
Ferin sat down at the table across from the large man. The
Catachan and Ferin had a grin on their faces. The first mug came, and Ferin
downed it almost as quickly as the Catachans.
“So the boy can take a little beer! Next!”
The next round came and they both downed it. Ferin felt a hot flash, and a
bit dizzy, but it passed. The two slammed down their mugs. The Catachan
seemed unphased. The next round came, and Ferin drank a bit slower, it
seemed the Catachan was too though, as sweat began forming on his brow.
The people around them were cheering, and clapping their hands,
and chanting. Several men from the 512th stood behind Ferin cheering him on.
He was now on the fifth mug. He was feeling extremely loopy, and warm. His
vision swam when he moved too fast. The Catachan was shaking his head, his
jaw slack. Finally the last round came, the sixth. Ferin lifted the mug and
paused for a moment, looking at the mug and back at the Catachan. The
Catachan had a blank look on his face, the beer half raised. Ferin poured
out the beer and threw the mug at the Catachans head. It completely missed
his head and hit his chest. Ferin was just happy he hit the right Catachan,
he was unsure as there was many swimming in his eyes. The man toppled over
onto the ground where he passed out. Ferin grinned and went face down into
the table.
Searing pain suddenly burned from the Mark of Cegorach. Ferin jumped with a
yelp, and many just stopped cheering and looked at him in surprise as he
stood up. The Mark seemed to get rid of his inebriation, as no symptoms of
the alcohol were in him. His mind was suddenly clear. And the mark glowed
dully. Ferin knew what that meant. There was Chaos nearby.
Ferin quickly left the area, heading for the Valkyrie in the hanger they
came in on. Suddenly pain flared again. There was Chaos infiltrators in the
space port. Ferin stopped and looked around. From behind him several of his
men jogged up, including Falco.
“Sir! What’s going on? Don’t tell me you’re so drunk your seeing
things!” Falco said with a chuckle.
Ferin gave him a cold look, and the smile was swept from the sergeants face.
“Chaos.” Ferin said, and the men immediately reached for their lasguns
as Ferin unholstered his bolt pistol.
A dark alley led from the main street, graffiti adorning the
plas-crete walls, and trash littering the ground. Ferin led the group into
the alley slowly, his gun raised at the hip. Several men switched on
lamp-packs, and light penetrated the darkness, showing a steel door at the
end. Etched onto the door was a simple symbol, so small Ferin almost missed
it. It was a half eight point wheel. Ferin tried to turn the door knob but
it was locked. He could not hear anything from inside. Suddenly a slit
formed at the top of the door and a pair of eyes appeared.
“Your late! The ceremony has-“, Ferins gun flashed in the alleyway, the
bark of it echoed out. The pair of eyes exploded into blood as the thump of
the body came from it hitting the floor on the other side. The bolt pistol
barked again, blowing the latch to the door off. He kicked it hard and it
crashed open.
The men around him came through, fanning out and illuminating the room.
Ferin pulled out his vox set, and put it on his head.
“This is Lieutenant Ferin to the Martyr’s Vengeance. We have Chaotic
infiltration here, and we are moving to neutralize. Request that spaceport
command be notified immediately. Out.”
Ferin turned to Falco.
“Sergeant, split the men into teams of three, fan out, keep in touch.
Anything that moves, kill it.”
“Yes sir!” Falco saluted, and immediately set up four teams of three.
Ferin continued down the main hall with Falco, and one of
Ferins veterans. They moved slowly, and as they passed a hallway or door, a
three man team would enter, and the rest continued. Sometimes the sound of
gun fire came back. Ahead, at the end of the hall was a large set of double
doors. The veteran kneeled at the bottom of one, hand on the handle. Falco
and Ferin primed grenades. The Lieutenant nodded to the veteran, who then
threw open the door. Falco and Ferin chucked the grenades, and ducked behind
the closed half. The grenades exploded with loud cracks and thuds.
The three men stormed through the doors, guns raised. The
remains of several cultists lay sprawled on the floor, ripped up by the two
grenades. Another sat against the wall, rolling its head in disorientation.
A few others were already getting up.
“In the name of the Emperor, you’re to be exterminated for the worship
of chaos powers. May He have pity on your souls.” Ferin said loudly, his
bolt pistol barked, and the chest of one of the rising cultists exploded
into a bloody mess.
The other two men immediately went around dispatching the other
cultists. Screams and cries of rage began to echo through the halls,
accompanying the cracks of las-weapons.
“Sir, Team 1 is finished, heading back to the main hall.” The vox
crackled.
“Sir, Team 3 is done.”
“Team 2 reporting that the area is cleansed sir.”
“Good, all teams meet back at the entrance.” Ferin said, and headed for
the door.
They all reached the steel door at about the same time. Several squads of
Station Security were already arriving in a couple chimeras.
“Sir! We were told there is a Chaos infiltration.” A man said.
“Yes, my men and I took care of this cell, but I suspect there are others.
Fan out, hunt them down.” Ferin said.
Ferins vox crackled, “Lieutenant, report back to the Martyr’s Vengeance
immediately.”
“Yes sir!” Ferin said.
Back on the Martyr’s Vengeance, Ferin sat with the other
officers of the 512th and Inquisitor Lord Alimente in the briefing room. It
was a tense time. They knew if the forces of chaos have had a long foot hold
on the station, then it was as good as lost, but if they caught it before it
spread too widely, it may be fine, it was much like a cancer.
“So. You suspect that the cell you found was the only one Lieutenant?”
Alimente asked.
“Yes, m’lord. I told the defense force otherwise just in case though.
This cell was barely set up, and security was lax which leads me to the idea
that they had not had a lot of experience.” Ferin said.
Alimente nodded, a grim look on his face.
“Very well. The rest of the 40th Corps arrived a moment ago. We will be
leaving the station in 12 hours time after the ships are refitted. We will
be arriving after the main Chaos force, so there will be intense fighting in
orbit. We hope to get everyone landed safely, but nothing is certain. I want
all ready to repel boarders or to initiate a boarding. We will go to battle
stations just before exiting the warp.”
“Very well sir.” Grevane said with a nod.
The captain then turned to the lieutenants.
“Run the men on drills from now till deployment. I want them to be able to
assess, and remedy any surprises as soon as they appear. I want them
ready.”
“Yes sir.” The three Lieutenants said in unison.
Twelve hours later, a great tear rent the material space, as
hundreds of starships left the space station. It was a massive fleet. The
forms of several great capitol ships dwarfed all around them, their guns
massive and ready to destroy any who dares challenge them. The 512th was
going into something that would change them like nothing else. Much like the
campaign on Fenris V, this war would test the company. The Martyr’s
Vengeance pierced the boiling mass of raging warp energy like a spear, and
with a sudden flash was gone.
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