Charge of the Pythian IX (40K)
Posted: 2007-02-08 09:26pm
So I have a very large concept for a 40K story I might write soon. To test the creative juices, I hammered out this short story. I hope you like it!
Charge of the Pythian IX
Pythia, a world covered by vast expanses of lush forest, open grassland, and majestic oceans. It was home to some twenty million Imperial residents, most of them farmers and fishermen. While it was by no means a major agri-world, the nearby Imperial planets would not have minded the nearby source of food for the hives and factory workers. That was, of course, when they were still capable of having their own thoughts.
Before Chaos had come, their warriors as plentiful as the rain on Pythia.
The first strikes of the 16th Black Crusade, now reaching its climax, were not anywhere near the Eye of Terror. They were not concentrating their forces to break the defense of Cadia again. Instead, they were raiding, capturing defenseless Imperial planets, and moving on. Or, in the words of one particularly vocal Chaos Space Marine, “Skulking around like those pansy Eldar!” Indeed, many had voiced their complaints about the way the campaign was being run. All the complaints, however, had been met with polite listening, then equally polite refusal. The Warmaster had a plan, and when the Warmaster had such a plan as this one, nothing would change it.
Except, of course, when Fate, or an anonymous Warp God went ahead and changed those plans for the Warmaster.
The last world in this division of the subsector to hold out against Chaos was Pythia. By all estimations, it had no right to this honor. The Guard and PDF regiments on Sammreil were some of the best in the subsector, and they had even received a company of Novamarines to assist. However, as the Novamarines fell, so did the Guard, PDF and the rest of the planets in the subsector. Now all that was left was the lone agri-world, blockaded by Chaos fleets. Chaos had troops to feed too, and this world already had the infrastructure necessary to do so. All that had to be done was land a few million troops on the planet, summon some daemons, and enslave the populace.
That was the plan, but plans can go wrong in the most unusual of ways.
The PDF on Pythia was composed of Guard and PDF veterans serving out the remainder of their time in relative peace and comfort. They were not old, but they were aging. Still, they were veterans, and determined to sell their lives for as much Chaos blood as could be spilled by human hands. As the first landings started, they manned the orbital defense guns, killing scores of Chaotic troops even before they touched the holy ground consecrated to the Emperor. When they finally started reaching the ground, nuclear artillery was already in place, shelling the landing sites. As the defense fighters rose to challenge the Chaos air cover, the PDF and accompanying tanks were being transported to challenge the greatest threats. All in all, a valiant defense of the planet. The fleet commander had expected such, and dealt with them in the most expedient fashion possible: orbital bombardment. The defense guns worked frantically, but soon torpedoes and bombs started getting through, and before long, the Pythian defenders were meager remnant of what they had once been. Chaos bombers silenced the defense artillery, and chaos fighters shot down their opposing counterparts. Hope was lost. Now came the brutal part.
The Warmaster had wanted this planet intact. The Fleetmaster would make sure it stayed intact. Now came the millions of Chaos soldiers, ready to conquer the planet. Now came the daemons, summoned by the mighty Chaos sorcerers. Now came Chaos Space Marines, the most feared all the galaxy over. The subjugation would be quick.
In the midst of all this, a civilian transport carrying propaganda posters was shot down over a forest. None paid much attention, and the second transport got through. The posters, however, now scattered through the forest, were being read and taken to heart. From the forests and jungles they came, into the cities, to the recruiting stations. Fear accompanied them, and all abhorred them, but the planet’s governor and military advisors, desperate for ideas and aware that they were condemning themselves, declared that they would be welcomed into the Pythian defense forces. The planet’s remaining commissars had to be persuaded, but they eventually saw the logic behind his reasoning. Even so, they declared that all involved would be executed as soon as the matter was finished, including themselves.
The newcomers were fast learners, all of them. They already knew how to fight, and even had their own weapons. Still, the stockpiles of holy lasguns and support weapons were passed out, and they drilled. For 3 solid weeks, while the rest of the planet was being captured by Chaos, they drilled and learned and fought and drilled and fought again. Their reputation, fearsome as it was, did not prepare anyone for their ferocity. Even so, they were loyal to the Emperor, obeyed their officers, and respected the commissars. 3 full regiments were raised in a month, ready to face the invaders as they approached the defenses.
The Pythian IX were huddled behind their fortifications, firing at the distant enemy. Missiles and lascannons pounded the Chaos lines, but they remained unbroken. Artillery, the small field guns remaining, were kept busy with a constant stream of shells being passed to them. Nobody bothered telling them where to fire. There were so many enemies that it didn’t matter. The Chaos line was stirring. Something was happening. The enemy soldiers parted down the middle, revealing vehicles. Not many vehicles, but powerful. Abominations of flesh, steel, and bound daemon, each deadly in its own way. Several drove in front of the lines, stopped quickly, then returned, unscathed by the defenders’ fire. As the smokescreen cleared, the defenders could see what they were up against. Chaos Space Marines had come. They had wanted the glory of being the first to break the line, and what they wanted, they got. Hundreds of Chaos Space Marines faced down the fortifications of the Pythian IX. Then, someone bellowed a huge war-cry, which was echoed by the rest of the Chaotic soldiers. A wall of sound, enough to make the ground shake, reached the defending line. But the Pythian IX were not afraid. They continued firing, bringing down what enemies they could. Not one shot was wasted.
As the war-cry grew, one of the Chaos Space Marines pointed, and the volume suddenly jumped higher. The entire line, first the marines, but soon everyone else, charged the lines of the Pythian IX. Not many defensive lines could withstand a charge led by Chaos Space Marines, including this one. The defenders needed another plan, and many had the same idea on their minds. The soldiers drew bayonets, swords, axes and maces, and prepared themselves for the order. It came soon enough. Amplified over the powerful battle speakers, the commander bellowed, “Pythian IX! In the name of the Emperor, CHARGE!”
The response came from the troops as one. Already some were piling over the top, but all paused to utter the battle cry, “FER DE EMPURA! WAAAAGGGGGHHHHHH!!!”
Charge of the Pythian IX
Pythia, a world covered by vast expanses of lush forest, open grassland, and majestic oceans. It was home to some twenty million Imperial residents, most of them farmers and fishermen. While it was by no means a major agri-world, the nearby Imperial planets would not have minded the nearby source of food for the hives and factory workers. That was, of course, when they were still capable of having their own thoughts.
Before Chaos had come, their warriors as plentiful as the rain on Pythia.
The first strikes of the 16th Black Crusade, now reaching its climax, were not anywhere near the Eye of Terror. They were not concentrating their forces to break the defense of Cadia again. Instead, they were raiding, capturing defenseless Imperial planets, and moving on. Or, in the words of one particularly vocal Chaos Space Marine, “Skulking around like those pansy Eldar!” Indeed, many had voiced their complaints about the way the campaign was being run. All the complaints, however, had been met with polite listening, then equally polite refusal. The Warmaster had a plan, and when the Warmaster had such a plan as this one, nothing would change it.
Except, of course, when Fate, or an anonymous Warp God went ahead and changed those plans for the Warmaster.
The last world in this division of the subsector to hold out against Chaos was Pythia. By all estimations, it had no right to this honor. The Guard and PDF regiments on Sammreil were some of the best in the subsector, and they had even received a company of Novamarines to assist. However, as the Novamarines fell, so did the Guard, PDF and the rest of the planets in the subsector. Now all that was left was the lone agri-world, blockaded by Chaos fleets. Chaos had troops to feed too, and this world already had the infrastructure necessary to do so. All that had to be done was land a few million troops on the planet, summon some daemons, and enslave the populace.
That was the plan, but plans can go wrong in the most unusual of ways.
The PDF on Pythia was composed of Guard and PDF veterans serving out the remainder of their time in relative peace and comfort. They were not old, but they were aging. Still, they were veterans, and determined to sell their lives for as much Chaos blood as could be spilled by human hands. As the first landings started, they manned the orbital defense guns, killing scores of Chaotic troops even before they touched the holy ground consecrated to the Emperor. When they finally started reaching the ground, nuclear artillery was already in place, shelling the landing sites. As the defense fighters rose to challenge the Chaos air cover, the PDF and accompanying tanks were being transported to challenge the greatest threats. All in all, a valiant defense of the planet. The fleet commander had expected such, and dealt with them in the most expedient fashion possible: orbital bombardment. The defense guns worked frantically, but soon torpedoes and bombs started getting through, and before long, the Pythian defenders were meager remnant of what they had once been. Chaos bombers silenced the defense artillery, and chaos fighters shot down their opposing counterparts. Hope was lost. Now came the brutal part.
The Warmaster had wanted this planet intact. The Fleetmaster would make sure it stayed intact. Now came the millions of Chaos soldiers, ready to conquer the planet. Now came the daemons, summoned by the mighty Chaos sorcerers. Now came Chaos Space Marines, the most feared all the galaxy over. The subjugation would be quick.
In the midst of all this, a civilian transport carrying propaganda posters was shot down over a forest. None paid much attention, and the second transport got through. The posters, however, now scattered through the forest, were being read and taken to heart. From the forests and jungles they came, into the cities, to the recruiting stations. Fear accompanied them, and all abhorred them, but the planet’s governor and military advisors, desperate for ideas and aware that they were condemning themselves, declared that they would be welcomed into the Pythian defense forces. The planet’s remaining commissars had to be persuaded, but they eventually saw the logic behind his reasoning. Even so, they declared that all involved would be executed as soon as the matter was finished, including themselves.
The newcomers were fast learners, all of them. They already knew how to fight, and even had their own weapons. Still, the stockpiles of holy lasguns and support weapons were passed out, and they drilled. For 3 solid weeks, while the rest of the planet was being captured by Chaos, they drilled and learned and fought and drilled and fought again. Their reputation, fearsome as it was, did not prepare anyone for their ferocity. Even so, they were loyal to the Emperor, obeyed their officers, and respected the commissars. 3 full regiments were raised in a month, ready to face the invaders as they approached the defenses.
The Pythian IX were huddled behind their fortifications, firing at the distant enemy. Missiles and lascannons pounded the Chaos lines, but they remained unbroken. Artillery, the small field guns remaining, were kept busy with a constant stream of shells being passed to them. Nobody bothered telling them where to fire. There were so many enemies that it didn’t matter. The Chaos line was stirring. Something was happening. The enemy soldiers parted down the middle, revealing vehicles. Not many vehicles, but powerful. Abominations of flesh, steel, and bound daemon, each deadly in its own way. Several drove in front of the lines, stopped quickly, then returned, unscathed by the defenders’ fire. As the smokescreen cleared, the defenders could see what they were up against. Chaos Space Marines had come. They had wanted the glory of being the first to break the line, and what they wanted, they got. Hundreds of Chaos Space Marines faced down the fortifications of the Pythian IX. Then, someone bellowed a huge war-cry, which was echoed by the rest of the Chaotic soldiers. A wall of sound, enough to make the ground shake, reached the defending line. But the Pythian IX were not afraid. They continued firing, bringing down what enemies they could. Not one shot was wasted.
As the war-cry grew, one of the Chaos Space Marines pointed, and the volume suddenly jumped higher. The entire line, first the marines, but soon everyone else, charged the lines of the Pythian IX. Not many defensive lines could withstand a charge led by Chaos Space Marines, including this one. The defenders needed another plan, and many had the same idea on their minds. The soldiers drew bayonets, swords, axes and maces, and prepared themselves for the order. It came soon enough. Amplified over the powerful battle speakers, the commander bellowed, “Pythian IX! In the name of the Emperor, CHARGE!”
The response came from the troops as one. Already some were piling over the top, but all paused to utter the battle cry, “FER DE EMPURA! WAAAAGGGGGHHHHHH!!!”
