Fear.
It clenched Shaithis' heart. No matter what the speeches, songs, and litanies said, he had yet to go into battle in his short career without feeling its icy hand clench around his heart. It was unworthy, and shameful, but he had to fight it down, do his duty.
He cleared his throat and prayed to the Emperor that his voice wouldn't break. "Steady."
The hounds closed in, bounding along at insane speed, their inhuman, warp-spawned throats issuing howls and gibberings that threatened their very souls.
"Steady."
He lined his plasma pistol up on his chosen target, ignoring the bone-ache where the poorly-fused augmetic continually pained him.
"Steady."
In a few more heartbeats the hounds would be on them.
"FIRE!"
All along the line, hellgun fire snapped out. Their guide contributed a burst from his autogun as Shaithis squeezed the trigger on the plasma pistol. The pistol bucked in his hand, the shot hitting true.
40K/Inquisitor RPG. The Line of Damnation.
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Imperial Overlord
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The head and body lead hound was blasted to ash be the direct plasma strike. Its leg carbonized instantly under the the intense heat as the air swam around it. It's companions took hellgun blasts to their unnatural flesh. Shock, trauma, blood loss, and major organ loss didn't even slow them. The severed limbs, exploded skulls, and shredded torso produced by multiple hits did. They rushed forward, falling only when cut down by overwhelming damage.
The first pack died without reaching a single soldier. Down the corridor, their heavily armoured handlers opened up with large calibre, short frame autoguns and unleashed the second wave.
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"REAV-OR!" With a bellow the artillery piece slid forward. Gathor would have prefered to use the titanic seige engines that were available to him on other worlds, but in this place he was confined to using artillery of a more modest size.
He would have also prefered to have a vastly greater number of pieces, but much of the artillery was committed to seiges of loyalist cities. So he had to make do. "REAV-OR!" The gun slid into position along the line. How many counter-battery weapons did the Imperials still possess? There was one way to find out. "REAV-OR!"
Along the line, one hundred field guns opened fire. They targeted the makeshift barracades, weapon emplacements, and forts that the Imperials used to secure their part of the Gap. Most of the rounds were off target. Smoke and shrapnel filled the air around the Imperial line.
"Again." One hundred thousand soldiers marched towards the bombardment, without the benefit of cover that the Imperial's enjoyed. Cannon fodder. The bombardment would provide some protection from Imperial weapons. And if any tried to run, well that's what the picked units behind them were for.
The first pack died without reaching a single soldier. Down the corridor, their heavily armoured handlers opened up with large calibre, short frame autoguns and unleashed the second wave.
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"REAV-OR!" With a bellow the artillery piece slid forward. Gathor would have prefered to use the titanic seige engines that were available to him on other worlds, but in this place he was confined to using artillery of a more modest size.
He would have also prefered to have a vastly greater number of pieces, but much of the artillery was committed to seiges of loyalist cities. So he had to make do. "REAV-OR!" The gun slid into position along the line. How many counter-battery weapons did the Imperials still possess? There was one way to find out. "REAV-OR!"
Along the line, one hundred field guns opened fire. They targeted the makeshift barracades, weapon emplacements, and forts that the Imperials used to secure their part of the Gap. Most of the rounds were off target. Smoke and shrapnel filled the air around the Imperial line.
"Again." One hundred thousand soldiers marched towards the bombardment, without the benefit of cover that the Imperial's enjoyed. Cannon fodder. The bombardment would provide some protection from Imperial weapons. And if any tried to run, well that's what the picked units behind them were for.
The Excellent Prismatic Spray. For when you absolutely, positively must kill a motherfucker. Accept no substitutions. Contact a magician of the later Aeons for details. Some conditions may apply.
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The delays back tracking and moving around the obstical had cost Yashida and his men time, now in the confines of the underhive the marine found packs of feral creatures, still these things could be used to his advantage blasting the first and placing his shots walking tword the pack he propelled the simple beasts forward clearing the path ahead or providing some distraction.
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Sister Brunhilda ordered her fellow apothecarians blasting the chosen units protecting the nearby siege gun, with his will the would sieze the weapon, sister theodora would replot the locations of another enemy gun, and the would be gone before the retalitory strike came to remove this weapon, If timed right the sudden "Treachery" of the gun would create a cascade effect of infighting amoung the ruinus enemy
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Sister Brunhilda ordered her fellow apothecarians blasting the chosen units protecting the nearby siege gun, with his will the would sieze the weapon, sister theodora would replot the locations of another enemy gun, and the would be gone before the retalitory strike came to remove this weapon, If timed right the sudden "Treachery" of the gun would create a cascade effect of infighting amoung the ruinus enemy
The scariest folk song lyrics are "My Boy Grew up to be just like me" from cats in the cradle by Harry Chapin
"GRENADES!" Shaithis ordered. With a bit of luck, most of the grenades would go off as the hounds transited the distance between them. Hails of fire ripped the air around them. Two men went down near him, one taking a shot in the chest, the other... head shot, dead.
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Prius' eye snapped open as the ground shook beneath him. He listened to the bombardment... this was no harrassment fire, this was a prepatory barrage for an offensive. He rose to his feet, watching the cat scamper for the dark corner. He buckled on the sword as vox reports of a massive wave of men approaching began coming in.
The plans had been laid for this assault had been laid since before his arrival, and every man on the wall knew well his responsibilities. His job at this time was simple.
He turned to leave the chapel and move to the defensive perimeter. He would fight with the men on the line, and if the Emperor chose that they should fall here to open the path for Jolan's team, so be it.
No victory without sacrifice.
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Prius' eye snapped open as the ground shook beneath him. He listened to the bombardment... this was no harrassment fire, this was a prepatory barrage for an offensive. He rose to his feet, watching the cat scamper for the dark corner. He buckled on the sword as vox reports of a massive wave of men approaching began coming in.
The plans had been laid for this assault had been laid since before his arrival, and every man on the wall knew well his responsibilities. His job at this time was simple.
He turned to leave the chapel and move to the defensive perimeter. He would fight with the men on the line, and if the Emperor chose that they should fall here to open the path for Jolan's team, so be it.
No victory without sacrifice.
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Imperial Overlord
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Yashida and his soldiers had met the monstrously mutated rats that roamed the Underhive. To lone man, especially an weak man, they were a threat. To a strike force, they were merely targets.
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The hounds advanced swiftly. Too many of the grenades detonated behind their current positions as they closed with the Sword. Two were crippled, but the rest were merely wounded. Shrapnel wounds or ruptured organs did not stop them. Their jaws could crush bone. They tore two cadets apart in seconds.
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The Sororitas broke cover and attacked. Bolters, flamers, and meltas were turned against the monstrous Skull Takers. They were deadly killers, armed almost as well as the Sororitas and protected by heavy carapace armour. Their flesh was altered by biochmen modifications, augments, and the whims of the Blood God's greater servants. They held.
The Sororitas initial attack took them by surprise and cost them. They rallied almost instantly and returned fire. Hellguns, bolters, armour piercing shotgun slugs, crack grenades, and plasma fire came back at the Sororitas. They were shaken, so their accuracy wasn't quite as good as usual. It was still plenty deadly.
If the Sororitas had been wearing lighter armour, their casualties would have been terrible. The battle sisters closed to point blank range, firing as they came. The Skull Takers eagerly met them.
They were stronger than the Sororitas and better hand to hand fighters, an accomplishment few in the Galaxy could boast of. It did not save them. The battle sisters' weapons killed at point blank range as they switched to chainswords and bolt pistols for hand to hand.
It was the armour that made the difference. The power assist made them even stronger than the chaos touched mutants. It turned blows from chainswords and chain axes. Stray bolter rounds were deflective or absorbed with only minor damage to the armour. And the Sororitas had momentum on their side.
The Skull Takers did not falter and did not run. They died fighting, fierce and proud. And they did not die alone. Khorne would have some fine new additions for the Skull Throne.
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The hounds advanced swiftly. Too many of the grenades detonated behind their current positions as they closed with the Sword. Two were crippled, but the rest were merely wounded. Shrapnel wounds or ruptured organs did not stop them. Their jaws could crush bone. They tore two cadets apart in seconds.
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The Sororitas broke cover and attacked. Bolters, flamers, and meltas were turned against the monstrous Skull Takers. They were deadly killers, armed almost as well as the Sororitas and protected by heavy carapace armour. Their flesh was altered by biochmen modifications, augments, and the whims of the Blood God's greater servants. They held.
The Sororitas initial attack took them by surprise and cost them. They rallied almost instantly and returned fire. Hellguns, bolters, armour piercing shotgun slugs, crack grenades, and plasma fire came back at the Sororitas. They were shaken, so their accuracy wasn't quite as good as usual. It was still plenty deadly.
If the Sororitas had been wearing lighter armour, their casualties would have been terrible. The battle sisters closed to point blank range, firing as they came. The Skull Takers eagerly met them.
They were stronger than the Sororitas and better hand to hand fighters, an accomplishment few in the Galaxy could boast of. It did not save them. The battle sisters' weapons killed at point blank range as they switched to chainswords and bolt pistols for hand to hand.
It was the armour that made the difference. The power assist made them even stronger than the chaos touched mutants. It turned blows from chainswords and chain axes. Stray bolter rounds were deflective or absorbed with only minor damage to the armour. And the Sororitas had momentum on their side.
The Skull Takers did not falter and did not run. They died fighting, fierce and proud. And they did not die alone. Khorne would have some fine new additions for the Skull Throne.
Last edited by Imperial Overlord on 2005-03-25 05:54pm, edited 1 time in total.
The Excellent Prismatic Spray. For when you absolutely, positively must kill a motherfucker. Accept no substitutions. Contact a magician of the later Aeons for details. Some conditions may apply.
Shaithis whirled, lashing out with his chainsword. Three Swordsmen moved to protect their guide, the only man who could get them in and out.
Why the warp didn't we bring another guide? he lamented mentally.
A standard Imperial Guard unit would have been shredded by the hounds, but these were no mere Guardsmen, these were the Colonel-Commissar's own. Armored and armed for close combat, they lashed out with chainswords and other close-in weapons. As one hound leaped onto the man next to him, Shaithis brought his chainsword down in a powerful overhand arc, driving it into the back of the beast.
Why the warp didn't we bring another guide? he lamented mentally.
A standard Imperial Guard unit would have been shredded by the hounds, but these were no mere Guardsmen, these were the Colonel-Commissar's own. Armored and armed for close combat, they lashed out with chainswords and other close-in weapons. As one hound leaped onto the man next to him, Shaithis brought his chainsword down in a powerful overhand arc, driving it into the back of the beast.
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Imperial Overlord
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The chainsword cut the chaos hound in two. The heavy armour of the cadets gave them a little protection from the fearsome jaws of the daemon hounds. The chainswords were devestatingly effective. Severed limbs crippled the monstrous creatures and heavy blows finished the cripples. As the hounds fell, their handlers went from placed shots to burst fire.
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They came forward. Heavy stubbers and multilasers opened up. The died by the dozens. They still came. The tanks and walkers closed. Missles, lascannons, and autocannons shattered vehicles. They advanced, weapons firing. From their vox horns came a single noise, louder than the shell fire. "REAV-OR!"
The second artillery barrage fell closer to their targets. Two gun batteries were destroyed and nearly thirty men killed or wounded. Battle cannons, autocannons, and plasma blasts from the tanks began to smash into the loyalist positions. Behind them came the infantry, shouting as they advanced. "REAV-OR!"
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They came forward. Heavy stubbers and multilasers opened up. The died by the dozens. They still came. The tanks and walkers closed. Missles, lascannons, and autocannons shattered vehicles. They advanced, weapons firing. From their vox horns came a single noise, louder than the shell fire. "REAV-OR!"
The second artillery barrage fell closer to their targets. Two gun batteries were destroyed and nearly thirty men killed or wounded. Battle cannons, autocannons, and plasma blasts from the tanks began to smash into the loyalist positions. Behind them came the infantry, shouting as they advanced. "REAV-OR!"
The Excellent Prismatic Spray. For when you absolutely, positively must kill a motherfucker. Accept no substitutions. Contact a magician of the later Aeons for details. Some conditions may apply.
The Swordsmen dropped as bursts of fire swept down the passageway. Shaithis rolled sideways behind the old cleaning unit that he'd sheltered behind before.
Gesturing to those who could see him, he ordered most of the troops to hold fire.
In the murky dark, the handlers would be unsure of how many survivors they faced. If the answering fire was light, they might just be tempted to try to carry the line with a close assault.
As desultory answering fire snapped back at the beast-handlers, Shaithis gritted his teeth.
Let them come. They'd learn why these men were the Emperor's Sword.
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Prius stood in the trench, unmoved as the ground shuddered around them. He studied the enemy advance through the periscope, then looked at the soldiers around him.
"The Emperor has sent us a good many heretics to kill today. We won't disappoint him."
Pure rhetoric, of course. In all likelihood, they were about to get overrun, unless the spoiling strikes came off soon.
Even then, it would be a insect sting against what they faced. Delaying the inevitable.
His lips skinned back in something that could charitably be called a grin. What a glorious way to die!
Gesturing to those who could see him, he ordered most of the troops to hold fire.
In the murky dark, the handlers would be unsure of how many survivors they faced. If the answering fire was light, they might just be tempted to try to carry the line with a close assault.
As desultory answering fire snapped back at the beast-handlers, Shaithis gritted his teeth.
Let them come. They'd learn why these men were the Emperor's Sword.
--------------------------------
Prius stood in the trench, unmoved as the ground shuddered around them. He studied the enemy advance through the periscope, then looked at the soldiers around him.
"The Emperor has sent us a good many heretics to kill today. We won't disappoint him."
Pure rhetoric, of course. In all likelihood, they were about to get overrun, unless the spoiling strikes came off soon.
Even then, it would be a insect sting against what they faced. Delaying the inevitable.
His lips skinned back in something that could charitably be called a grin. What a glorious way to die!
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Imperial Overlord
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Rockets and missles wrecked seven of Gathor's artillery pieces. The remainder fired on time. The third barrage screamed in. It was more accurate than the second. Men and women were blown to pieces. More gun emplacements were silenced.
The tanks trundled forwards, past the burning wrecks of the first rank. "REAV-OR!" thundered out towards the Imperials. The tanks fired again. "REAV-OR!"
Heretics were dying by the hundreds. Their armour was light or non-existent. Bombardment missles, heavy stubbers, and las weapons killed them in droves. They continued to march forward, past the burning wrecks of dead tanks. "REAV-OR!"
Several fire teams stopped advancing, crouching behind cover. They had come far enough that their precious heavy weapons were close enough to be useful. "REAV-OR!" A few missles flashed up towards the Imperials. Autocannons began to tear at Imperial positions. Most missed by a fairly wide margin. "REAV-OR!" They corrected their aim and continued firing.
Senior Judge Thorve was a man a great courage. He had volunteered to expresse the Arbites doubts of Ristani's plan in council, knowing he might die. His courage did not fail him now. "Colonel-Commissar!" he shouted. "We cannot withstand a full assault in this terrain. We must retreat to the hive tunnels where the enemy cannot use his artillery and choke points will constrain his advantage of numbers!"
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Autofire poured down at the cadets. The handlers came forward slowly, pouring fire as they came. Grenades were fired forward. The pack masters were not inclinded to begin close assault. That's what they had chaos hounds for.
The tanks trundled forwards, past the burning wrecks of the first rank. "REAV-OR!" thundered out towards the Imperials. The tanks fired again. "REAV-OR!"
Heretics were dying by the hundreds. Their armour was light or non-existent. Bombardment missles, heavy stubbers, and las weapons killed them in droves. They continued to march forward, past the burning wrecks of dead tanks. "REAV-OR!"
Several fire teams stopped advancing, crouching behind cover. They had come far enough that their precious heavy weapons were close enough to be useful. "REAV-OR!" A few missles flashed up towards the Imperials. Autocannons began to tear at Imperial positions. Most missed by a fairly wide margin. "REAV-OR!" They corrected their aim and continued firing.
Senior Judge Thorve was a man a great courage. He had volunteered to expresse the Arbites doubts of Ristani's plan in council, knowing he might die. His courage did not fail him now. "Colonel-Commissar!" he shouted. "We cannot withstand a full assault in this terrain. We must retreat to the hive tunnels where the enemy cannot use his artillery and choke points will constrain his advantage of numbers!"
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Autofire poured down at the cadets. The handlers came forward slowly, pouring fire as they came. Grenades were fired forward. The pack masters were not inclinded to begin close assault. That's what they had chaos hounds for.
The Excellent Prismatic Spray. For when you absolutely, positively must kill a motherfucker. Accept no substitutions. Contact a magician of the later Aeons for details. Some conditions may apply.
Prius nodded. "Give the order, Senior Judge."
He paused, then turned to Thorve. The words were bitter ashes in his mouth, but war above all demanded expediency. Thorve knew the codes, the protocols, and the commanders.
"You will coordinate the withdrawal, Senior Judge. I will command the rear guard, to see that their zeal does not fail them."
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Frak this, they were going to get cut up here.
"Hit them with everything!" Shaithis bellowed.
Hopefully they'd come close enough and moved enough out of cover for a renewed barrage to have a real effect. He aimed his plasma pistol and snapped off a shot, then quickly repositioned. Down here, the signature of a plasma weapon was sure to draw fire more than anything else.
He paused, then turned to Thorve. The words were bitter ashes in his mouth, but war above all demanded expediency. Thorve knew the codes, the protocols, and the commanders.
"You will coordinate the withdrawal, Senior Judge. I will command the rear guard, to see that their zeal does not fail them."
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Frak this, they were going to get cut up here.
"Hit them with everything!" Shaithis bellowed.
Hopefully they'd come close enough and moved enough out of cover for a renewed barrage to have a real effect. He aimed his plasma pistol and snapped off a shot, then quickly repositioned. Down here, the signature of a plasma weapon was sure to draw fire more than anything else.
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Imperial Overlord
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The gun crews reached for weapons to repel the Sororitas attacks. They died almost instantly. The slave haulers fled into the darkness of the shattered hives as the battle sisters laid waste to all before him. Nearby gun crews seized weapons and battle hardened fanatics rushed towards the sound of the fighting.
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"REAV-OR!" The next volley of artillery fire targeted the positions on the higher levels as the tanks and the infantry closed. The heretics were dying in their hundreds now, advancing over and past dead bodies and burnt out hulks.
Ground level soldiers retreated, setting up fire teams in fall back positions and those encamped on higher levels poured fire down on the advancing heretics.
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"Lord, the Sororitas have attacked the gun line."
Gathor turned. "Really? How futile of them. Have every available unit close and kill them." The artillery had almost past the last stage of usefulness. Without guns heavy enough to smash through the courthouse void shields, they were only really useful in this set piece battle which he had already run.
Now, with the Sororitas having committed a particularily useless form of suicide, the tunnel fighting would be easier and only the Astartes remained as someone capable of overwhelming his lifeguard. Amazing how things fell just into place. The favor of Tzeentch was potent indeed.
"All units, press the attack. And make sure the Skull Takers know that the Sororitas are here."
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Hellgun and plasma fire poured down the darkened tunnels. The heavy autoguns returned fire, but they cadet's heavy armour provided respectable protection from their fire The carapace armour of the handlers was tough, but the cadet's weapons were potent. Their armour was breached by intense barrage of hellgun fire or failed under the lash of plasma beams and they died.
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"REAV-OR!" The next volley of artillery fire targeted the positions on the higher levels as the tanks and the infantry closed. The heretics were dying in their hundreds now, advancing over and past dead bodies and burnt out hulks.
Ground level soldiers retreated, setting up fire teams in fall back positions and those encamped on higher levels poured fire down on the advancing heretics.
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"Lord, the Sororitas have attacked the gun line."
Gathor turned. "Really? How futile of them. Have every available unit close and kill them." The artillery had almost past the last stage of usefulness. Without guns heavy enough to smash through the courthouse void shields, they were only really useful in this set piece battle which he had already run.
Now, with the Sororitas having committed a particularily useless form of suicide, the tunnel fighting would be easier and only the Astartes remained as someone capable of overwhelming his lifeguard. Amazing how things fell just into place. The favor of Tzeentch was potent indeed.
"All units, press the attack. And make sure the Skull Takers know that the Sororitas are here."
----------------------------------------------------
Hellgun and plasma fire poured down the darkened tunnels. The heavy autoguns returned fire, but they cadet's heavy armour provided respectable protection from their fire The carapace armour of the handlers was tough, but the cadet's weapons were potent. Their armour was breached by intense barrage of hellgun fire or failed under the lash of plasma beams and they died.
The Excellent Prismatic Spray. For when you absolutely, positively must kill a motherfucker. Accept no substitutions. Contact a magician of the later Aeons for details. Some conditions may apply.
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Imperial Overlord
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Senior Judge Thorve fell back towards the back of the line and gave the order. "All units fall back to second positions. Demolishers, the word is given. Execute, in the Emperor's name!"
Gun crews picked up their weapons and retreated back towards the hive tunnels. They left mines and booby traps behind them. A few stayed behind, men and women who had lost everything. They maned heavy stubbers, rocket launchers, autocannons, and improvised heavy flamers that had been quickly stamped out by the remaining factories. They poured fire into the enemy as the relentless advance continued, covering the retreating Imperials.
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Five kilometers above, Judge Farbile nodded as he received the order. His unit was located just beneath the hive's outer shell and had a special mission. "Blow it," he ordered.
Charges blasted loose the overhanging precipace. The slab had been loaded with barrels of jellied promethium. From up here, the slab seemed to slowly fall toward's the Gap's floor. The senior judge might have compared it to a falling leaf, if he had ever seen a tree before in his life.
One hundred meters above the conflict, the charges detonated, creating a falling shroud of burning promethium. It fell on thousands. Hundreds broke and were cut down by the troops behind them.
"REA-VOR!" The troops continued forward. The walked around the fire, which created fire lanes and killing zones. The squeeze slowed the advance to a crawl. The Imperial gunners fired until their barrels overheated. Casualties mounted. "REAV-OR!" They kept moving forward.
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The enemy reached the defensive perimeter. They began to pour through the holes and gaps. Private Mickal Hasen watched them come as he gripped the fire yokes of his multilaser. His family had died in the initial uprising. His tenious faith in the Emperor was gone. Killing the enemy was all he had left.
He pulled the trigger as the enemy came through the gap in front of him. The multilaser's bolts weren't that much more powerful than those of a lasgun, but the rate of fire was stupendous. His targets weren't hit once, but a half dozen times or more. He mowed them down as they came through the gap. He killed more than one hundred in less than a minute.
He continued killing until the pile of bodies filled the gap. He swivled the gun towards another gap through which the enemy streamed through. He continued to kill traitors for an eternity that lasted two minutes. The enemy died in droves. Then a rocket struck his position and the blast decapitated him instantly.
Gun crews picked up their weapons and retreated back towards the hive tunnels. They left mines and booby traps behind them. A few stayed behind, men and women who had lost everything. They maned heavy stubbers, rocket launchers, autocannons, and improvised heavy flamers that had been quickly stamped out by the remaining factories. They poured fire into the enemy as the relentless advance continued, covering the retreating Imperials.
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Five kilometers above, Judge Farbile nodded as he received the order. His unit was located just beneath the hive's outer shell and had a special mission. "Blow it," he ordered.
Charges blasted loose the overhanging precipace. The slab had been loaded with barrels of jellied promethium. From up here, the slab seemed to slowly fall toward's the Gap's floor. The senior judge might have compared it to a falling leaf, if he had ever seen a tree before in his life.
One hundred meters above the conflict, the charges detonated, creating a falling shroud of burning promethium. It fell on thousands. Hundreds broke and were cut down by the troops behind them.
"REA-VOR!" The troops continued forward. The walked around the fire, which created fire lanes and killing zones. The squeeze slowed the advance to a crawl. The Imperial gunners fired until their barrels overheated. Casualties mounted. "REAV-OR!" They kept moving forward.
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The enemy reached the defensive perimeter. They began to pour through the holes and gaps. Private Mickal Hasen watched them come as he gripped the fire yokes of his multilaser. His family had died in the initial uprising. His tenious faith in the Emperor was gone. Killing the enemy was all he had left.
He pulled the trigger as the enemy came through the gap in front of him. The multilaser's bolts weren't that much more powerful than those of a lasgun, but the rate of fire was stupendous. His targets weren't hit once, but a half dozen times or more. He mowed them down as they came through the gap. He killed more than one hundred in less than a minute.
He continued killing until the pile of bodies filled the gap. He swivled the gun towards another gap through which the enemy streamed through. He continued to kill traitors for an eternity that lasted two minutes. The enemy died in droves. Then a rocket struck his position and the blast decapitated him instantly.
The Excellent Prismatic Spray. For when you absolutely, positively must kill a motherfucker. Accept no substitutions. Contact a magician of the later Aeons for details. Some conditions may apply.
Prius was right at home with the rear guard, as they fell back tenaciously. Unlike the worthless Boreans, these Imperials knew how to fight, by the Emperor!
He hadn't had to execute a single one yet. It was almost like guiding his Swordsmen.
Again, no time for bold speeches and flowery imprecations. Breath was only barely spared for quick orders, warnings, and the like. He was out of power packs for his hellgun, and threw it aside, knowing full well there'd be a body nearby with a weapon he could use. Lifting an Arbites autogun, he pulled a makeshift platoon back from the left flank as they gave ground stubbornly.
Then the fire came down. For the barest of moments the fighting at the very front paused as the massive slab bearing an immense weight of promethium came down in the enemy ranks, bearing its lethal cargo.
His respect for Torves was slowly climbing. Insolent bastard he might be, but he had planned one hell of a defensive stand. All it had taken was a bit of aggression to stir the hornet's nest, then a beautiful fighting withdrawal into the hives...
"What are you waiting for?" he bellowed at the troops, who had briefly become enraptured with the sight. "FIRE!"
Only strict discipline and the demands of the moment kept him from erupting into maniacal laughter at the sight of thousands of heretics burning under the fiery wrath of the Emperor.
"BURN, YOU WARP SCUM! FRAKKING BURN!"
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Shaithis levered himself up. The stabbing pain in his chest spoke probably of broken ribs, but that was a secondary concern.
"Charge!" he bellowed.
Time to finish this and get back to their mission. Even if they couldn't reach the fuel depot, the loss of a patrol in the tunnels would draw enemy attention to them, likely all out of proportion to the size of his small unit. Every bit counted. The secondary plan was to create as much havoc as they could and suck in as many enemy troops as they could.
And if possible, escape, but that had always been the smallest of priorities on the plan.
He hadn't had to execute a single one yet. It was almost like guiding his Swordsmen.
Again, no time for bold speeches and flowery imprecations. Breath was only barely spared for quick orders, warnings, and the like. He was out of power packs for his hellgun, and threw it aside, knowing full well there'd be a body nearby with a weapon he could use. Lifting an Arbites autogun, he pulled a makeshift platoon back from the left flank as they gave ground stubbornly.
Then the fire came down. For the barest of moments the fighting at the very front paused as the massive slab bearing an immense weight of promethium came down in the enemy ranks, bearing its lethal cargo.
His respect for Torves was slowly climbing. Insolent bastard he might be, but he had planned one hell of a defensive stand. All it had taken was a bit of aggression to stir the hornet's nest, then a beautiful fighting withdrawal into the hives...
"What are you waiting for?" he bellowed at the troops, who had briefly become enraptured with the sight. "FIRE!"
Only strict discipline and the demands of the moment kept him from erupting into maniacal laughter at the sight of thousands of heretics burning under the fiery wrath of the Emperor.
"BURN, YOU WARP SCUM! FRAKKING BURN!"
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Shaithis levered himself up. The stabbing pain in his chest spoke probably of broken ribs, but that was a secondary concern.
"Charge!" he bellowed.
Time to finish this and get back to their mission. Even if they couldn't reach the fuel depot, the loss of a patrol in the tunnels would draw enemy attention to them, likely all out of proportion to the size of his small unit. Every bit counted. The secondary plan was to create as much havoc as they could and suck in as many enemy troops as they could.
And if possible, escape, but that had always been the smallest of priorities on the plan.
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Imperial Overlord
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Shaithis's counter charge finished off the remaining handlers in a flurry of gunfire and a brief, but brutal, melee. The cadets stood panting over the dismembered body of the hound handlers. Data from the bio scanners indicated there were no major enemy concentrations nearby. They had a little time to make their next move.
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Thorve fired his lasgun into the advancing chaos horde. He had run through ammo for his shotgun sometime back and taken the long arm from a fallen soldier. The retreat managed to be orderly, which was a small mercy. He gunned down two traitors and fell back. The tunnels weren't too far behind him. Earlier the day he had given himself fifty-fifty odds of survivng this far.
"This is Thorve. The retreat is in progress. Judge Silas, prepare for the enemy."
"Affirmitive Judge Thorve. We await to give them the Emperor's Justice."
"Colonel-Commissar Ristani, gather your forces and fall back. Most of our forces are clear."
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Thorve fired his lasgun into the advancing chaos horde. He had run through ammo for his shotgun sometime back and taken the long arm from a fallen soldier. The retreat managed to be orderly, which was a small mercy. He gunned down two traitors and fell back. The tunnels weren't too far behind him. Earlier the day he had given himself fifty-fifty odds of survivng this far.
"This is Thorve. The retreat is in progress. Judge Silas, prepare for the enemy."
"Affirmitive Judge Thorve. We await to give them the Emperor's Justice."
"Colonel-Commissar Ristani, gather your forces and fall back. Most of our forces are clear."
The Excellent Prismatic Spray. For when you absolutely, positively must kill a motherfucker. Accept no substitutions. Contact a magician of the later Aeons for details. Some conditions may apply.
Shaithis checked as he ran his chainsword on a quick self-clean cycle to clear out some bloody gibbets... yes, the guide survived intact.
"Deliver the Emperor's mercy to those unable to continue, and then we move. Quickly," he hissed.
Quickly the Swordsmen checked their fallen. Any unable to continue were given a few quick words and a coup-de-grace. He made his way to the judge as the moans and murmurs were silenced, one at a time. "We will have no time to spare. Guide us." As they checked the wounded, the Swordsmen also efficiently stripped away any spare grenades or explosives, and readied themselves to continue.
"Move out," Shaithis ordered, his foot brushing a body in the darkness. Friend, foe, it was dead. He didn't have time to look down or think about it.
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Prius began bringing his troops back. It was the most delicate of tasks, keeping a retreat from turning into a rout. He'd most recently purloined a lasgun, and had finally had to use it on one of their own. A man had come streaming past him, screaming and weaponless, one of the civilian recruits, most likely. A single shot to the head had taken care of that, and the example had been made for the others. Either they pulled out in some form of order, or they were all going to die.
"Deliver the Emperor's mercy to those unable to continue, and then we move. Quickly," he hissed.
Quickly the Swordsmen checked their fallen. Any unable to continue were given a few quick words and a coup-de-grace. He made his way to the judge as the moans and murmurs were silenced, one at a time. "We will have no time to spare. Guide us." As they checked the wounded, the Swordsmen also efficiently stripped away any spare grenades or explosives, and readied themselves to continue.
"Move out," Shaithis ordered, his foot brushing a body in the darkness. Friend, foe, it was dead. He didn't have time to look down or think about it.
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Prius began bringing his troops back. It was the most delicate of tasks, keeping a retreat from turning into a rout. He'd most recently purloined a lasgun, and had finally had to use it on one of their own. A man had come streaming past him, screaming and weaponless, one of the civilian recruits, most likely. A single shot to the head had taken care of that, and the example had been made for the others. Either they pulled out in some form of order, or they were all going to die.
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Imperial Overlord
- Emperor's Hand
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The Imperials fell back as the chaos horde continued to pour through. The rear guard died where they stood for the most part, save for a few who broke at the last minute. Mines and booby traps added to the carnage, but did not stem the tide.
Thorve looked at his pic screen. The auspexes showed the defences were overrun and everyone in retreat to the tunnels. It was time to remind the traitors that they were not standing on solid ground, but on floor plates. Many of which had been lifted and altered by defenders in the previous weeks. He touched a control.
All along the line, concealed explosives detonated. Fifty tons of demolition grade explosions right under the feet of the Reaver's forces. Fifty flowers of death bloomed. Countless numbers died. "REAV-OR!" The wounded lay bleeding. The next ranks continued forward, stepping on the bodies of the fallen. The tunnels were ahead.
Thorve looked at his pic screen. The auspexes showed the defences were overrun and everyone in retreat to the tunnels. It was time to remind the traitors that they were not standing on solid ground, but on floor plates. Many of which had been lifted and altered by defenders in the previous weeks. He touched a control.
All along the line, concealed explosives detonated. Fifty tons of demolition grade explosions right under the feet of the Reaver's forces. Fifty flowers of death bloomed. Countless numbers died. "REAV-OR!" The wounded lay bleeding. The next ranks continued forward, stepping on the bodies of the fallen. The tunnels were ahead.
The Excellent Prismatic Spray. For when you absolutely, positively must kill a motherfucker. Accept no substitutions. Contact a magician of the later Aeons for details. Some conditions may apply.
Prius ground his teeth audibly. Either Yashida's force had been intercepted or otherwise failed to achieve their objective. Chaos forces could be broken by sheer losses, but they were incredibly resiliant so long as the leadership was intact, especially when augmenting their false courage with blasphemous tricks of the warp.
But if the Marine had failed, then the only option was to make this as expensive as possible. He brought his forces back through the tunnels. Every step of the way, they lost more soldiers. Soon, there would be none of them left, and no matter that they were killing enemies in a vastly disproportionate number to their own losses, the enemy could afford it and they couldn't.
But that was all that was left.
He shouted, he commanded, he threatened, he willed his forces to continue fighting to stem the endless enemy tide.
But if the Marine had failed, then the only option was to make this as expensive as possible. He brought his forces back through the tunnels. Every step of the way, they lost more soldiers. Soon, there would be none of them left, and no matter that they were killing enemies in a vastly disproportionate number to their own losses, the enemy could afford it and they couldn't.
But that was all that was left.
He shouted, he commanded, he threatened, he willed his forces to continue fighting to stem the endless enemy tide.
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The Yosemite Bear
- Mostly Harmless Nutcase (Requiescat in Pace)
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Delayed by cave-ins and other porblems Yashida finally was back on track, but much too late for his part in the plan to have it's intended effect. Still no plan surivives contact with the enemy, as the Marune and his forces began their ascent the chron showed it's numerals in accusing red tell tales.
The scariest folk song lyrics are "My Boy Grew up to be just like me" from cats in the cradle by Harry Chapin
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Imperial Overlord
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Chaos troops poured towards the Sororitas's position and down the tunnel mouths. Automatic weapons mowed them down in droves, but they still kept coming. Several of the large tunnels were not swarmed. Instead, the chaos tanks began to trundle down the corridors, firing as they came.
The mass of troops converging on the Sororitas's position had an unintended benefit. Many of the troopers around Gathor's Fortress-Spire had moved up to engage the sisters of battle.
The mass of troops converging on the Sororitas's position had an unintended benefit. Many of the troopers around Gathor's Fortress-Spire had moved up to engage the sisters of battle.
The Excellent Prismatic Spray. For when you absolutely, positively must kill a motherfucker. Accept no substitutions. Contact a magician of the later Aeons for details. Some conditions may apply.
"Up," the guide said. "We're almost there."
So far, no other engagements. For all he knew, this could be a vain effort and the fortress already fallen, but Shaithis would follow his orders as if the situation were still optimal.
"Swordsmen, prepare to engage the enemy," he said. His vision tended to gray whenever he stepped wrong, his chest screaming in protest. But sooner rather than later, it was likely to be all over.
So far, no other engagements. For all he knew, this could be a vain effort and the fortress already fallen, but Shaithis would follow his orders as if the situation were still optimal.
"Swordsmen, prepare to engage the enemy," he said. His vision tended to gray whenever he stepped wrong, his chest screaming in protest. But sooner rather than later, it was likely to be all over.
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Stormbringer
- King of Democracy
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Varian had taken a small team of heavily armored Arbites and was now in the thick of it. In the narrow confines of hive-tunnels the shot-cannons and stormbolters of the teams were nasty indeed. But against an enemy that had sold their soul? The fighting was desperate and pitched.
The Inquisitor himself was fighting, but his mind was somewhere else. Instead it was in the tunnels of Hive Primaris on Karst's World. Half in the present, half in the past he blazed away at any that attempted the passage before him. He simply stood firm and at the forefront letting fly, barely concious of the shots being sent against him.
The Inquisitor himself was fighting, but his mind was somewhere else. Instead it was in the tunnels of Hive Primaris on Karst's World. Half in the present, half in the past he blazed away at any that attempted the passage before him. He simply stood firm and at the forefront letting fly, barely concious of the shots being sent against him.
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The Yosemite Bear
- Mostly Harmless Nutcase (Requiescat in Pace)
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despite being in the rear of the Sister's formation, Theordora was dieing, as her blood ran, her augment's took over. Some observing the Tech-sister had said she seemed to be "possesed" by the machine spirit. her shots at first seemed bursts to cover fire, however, the chaos soldiers suddenly noticed, every single bolt was aimed, Her augmented eye's zooming in, while the "Savant" built into her brain directed her fire, a blast oierce her leg revealing the wires beneath
The scariest folk song lyrics are "My Boy Grew up to be just like me" from cats in the cradle by Harry Chapin
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Imperial Overlord
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"My Lord, the Sororitas continue to resist us."
The Reaver looked up. "They aren't dead yet?"
"No lord."
"Did you relay my orders?"
"Yes lord. All available units were to be dispatched to slay them."
"How many were sent?"
"The closest ten thousand troops, including one hundred Skull Takers."
"Triple it. Make sure every gun crew is committed and anyone who can pick up a gun is headed in that direction. It isn't like we will have much need for artillery for the rest of the campaign. And make sure all the Skull Takers are there. I want those Sororitas dead."
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"REAV-OR!" The tanks pushed forward down the broad avenue. Manufacture Plex-B-5 lay ahead. The lead tank burst into the great vault, mostly undamaged by the fighting. A second and a third tank followed.
Gun emplacements in the factory complex opened fire. Lascannons and autocannons raked the fourth tank. It exploded almost instantly. The first three tanks began to return fire as the heavy weapons converged on them. A bell tower gun nest exploded as battle cannon shell shattered it.
Heavy fire raked the tanks. Two started burning almost immediatly. Stubber fire bounced off their hulls. Behind them the column attempted to push the wreckage out of the way. The Imperials kept firing.
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Through the small tunnels came a flood of heretic infantry. Fire poured down on them. Men were falling every second. They kept pushing forward.
Behind the third line, an elder man in sumptous scarlett robes embroidered in gold strode forward. Men and women called out for blessings. "The Emperor Watches," was his response. His liver spotted
hands clenched an lasgun.
A young lieutenant confronted him. "Ecclesiarch, you should be at the chapel."
"I have few years left young man, even if by some miracle I survive this. I have called upon the people to fight for themselves and for their Emperor. Now I must lead by example, however poor a soldier I maybe. The enemy is that way, is it not?"
"Yes Ecclesiarch."
"Then that is where I must go."
The Reaver looked up. "They aren't dead yet?"
"No lord."
"Did you relay my orders?"
"Yes lord. All available units were to be dispatched to slay them."
"How many were sent?"
"The closest ten thousand troops, including one hundred Skull Takers."
"Triple it. Make sure every gun crew is committed and anyone who can pick up a gun is headed in that direction. It isn't like we will have much need for artillery for the rest of the campaign. And make sure all the Skull Takers are there. I want those Sororitas dead."
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"REAV-OR!" The tanks pushed forward down the broad avenue. Manufacture Plex-B-5 lay ahead. The lead tank burst into the great vault, mostly undamaged by the fighting. A second and a third tank followed.
Gun emplacements in the factory complex opened fire. Lascannons and autocannons raked the fourth tank. It exploded almost instantly. The first three tanks began to return fire as the heavy weapons converged on them. A bell tower gun nest exploded as battle cannon shell shattered it.
Heavy fire raked the tanks. Two started burning almost immediatly. Stubber fire bounced off their hulls. Behind them the column attempted to push the wreckage out of the way. The Imperials kept firing.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Through the small tunnels came a flood of heretic infantry. Fire poured down on them. Men were falling every second. They kept pushing forward.
Behind the third line, an elder man in sumptous scarlett robes embroidered in gold strode forward. Men and women called out for blessings. "The Emperor Watches," was his response. His liver spotted
hands clenched an lasgun.
A young lieutenant confronted him. "Ecclesiarch, you should be at the chapel."
"I have few years left young man, even if by some miracle I survive this. I have called upon the people to fight for themselves and for their Emperor. Now I must lead by example, however poor a soldier I maybe. The enemy is that way, is it not?"
"Yes Ecclesiarch."
"Then that is where I must go."
The Excellent Prismatic Spray. For when you absolutely, positively must kill a motherfucker. Accept no substitutions. Contact a magician of the later Aeons for details. Some conditions may apply.
Insets, crosscuts, built-in enfilades, this was a defender's dream. Prius rested his aching organic leg for a moment as he lined up with a sparse team of defenders along a switchback.
Not an ounce of give in these people. So many other units would have folded by now, given in to the relentless advance. But at every step, these men and women simply fell back a little further and kept fighting.
The Emperor had provided Jolan and his team with the very best distraction available.
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Shaithis crept along the perimeter of the fuel depot. He held up his hand suddenly, signaling for the rest of the Swordsmen to wait.
There was a bustle of activity. The heretics were departing, quickly, and passing out weapons to those who could hold them.
Quite likely, one of the other two main strikes, or both, were drawing forces away.
Beautiful. Perfect. As he watched bellowing overseers marching their twisted slaves to a distant battle, he knew they were going to be able to do some real damage here. The Emperor was watching over them.
Not an ounce of give in these people. So many other units would have folded by now, given in to the relentless advance. But at every step, these men and women simply fell back a little further and kept fighting.
The Emperor had provided Jolan and his team with the very best distraction available.
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Shaithis crept along the perimeter of the fuel depot. He held up his hand suddenly, signaling for the rest of the Swordsmen to wait.
There was a bustle of activity. The heretics were departing, quickly, and passing out weapons to those who could hold them.
Quite likely, one of the other two main strikes, or both, were drawing forces away.
Beautiful. Perfect. As he watched bellowing overseers marching their twisted slaves to a distant battle, he knew they were going to be able to do some real damage here. The Emperor was watching over them.
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The Yosemite Bear
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As Yashida's squad finally emerged from the underhives, They glowered, the enemy was definatly no fool, all access routes into the spire through that avenue had been meticulusly blocked off except for two, both of which were obviously more heavily guarded traps then anything else. The intial data provided by the "Judge" had not only led them directly into a dead end, but they had barely avoided an ambush, the part of his brain that analyzed battle plans and expected treachery everywhere, considered that his squad may have been set up.
The scariest folk song lyrics are "My Boy Grew up to be just like me" from cats in the cradle by Harry Chapin