Dread Lord Vharn looked over the crumbling city. His midnight black
Terminator armour seemed to absorb the morning light that was falling
upon them. The conquest of Artemus VII was going well, the weak Imperial
forces no match for his Black Legion War Company. Soon they would have
in their hands the Force Statis generator which they had searched for
for so long.
"What of your soothsaying, Sorceror?" he demanded of the Tzeentchian
Marine standing at his left.
The Sorceror looked long at the battle lines below, before replying.
"Lord Tzeentch grants me the vision to see to the future - I tell you
again that I see a pack of wolves running on the moonlight, baying in
the night. I have had this omen many times since arriving on this
pitiful world. I see that perhaps the subjugation of this world will not
be so.....easy. The Sons of Fenris have arrived."
"Bah!" snorted Vharn, "The Space Wolves here to rescue this pathetic
world? At last, a chance for some real battle, and perhaps revenge,
Mu'hamil?" The last comment was spat at the Sorceror, who showed no
outward indication of anger or hatred.
"The Sons of Fenris are a worthy adversary of even you, Dread Lord"
replied Mu'hamil, "You underestimate their ferocity at your peril. I was
there at the Burning. I remember their disdain of knowledge, their
shortsightedness. I also remember their fury. You would do well to tread
carefully, lest overconfidence become your enemy."
"Wise words from the mouth of Magnus." retorted Vharn,"You forget that I
have been honing MY skills for 10,000 years, and Abaddon himself
requested that I claim this world in the name of Chaos. I do not fear
the Space Wolves, nor do I dismiss them lightly. But they will fall
before me as countless many have before, be they Worldeaters, Dark
Angels, Eldar scum, Ork, or those misguided Word Bearers. Do you not
remember the scouring of Akland III where we took apart the Space Wolf
defense force piece by piece?"
"I remember.." whispered Mu'hamil, "and I also remember how we hastily
reteated as more reinforcements arrived."
"ENOUGH!" roared Vharn, "You forget quite conveniently that we had
retrived the artifact for which we came for! We had no more use of that
feeble world, defended as it was by incompetents."
Vharn gazed again at the scene below him. He could see drop pods and
Thunderhawks disgorging the grey-armoured warriors deep within his
battle line. His troops were falling back under the onslaught, and the
Cultists that were the first line of defense were being ripped apart
with ease. He still did not have access to the generator! His fury grew,
until he finally gave the order:
"We will not be denied this prize! Prepare the Land Raiders - we take
the attack to them!"
Amid the rubble of the devastated city, Wolf Lord Hakkon Ironwolf and
his Attack Command Pack paused to check the surrounding landscape. His
acute senses picked out a group of humans huddled in the ruins 50 metres
away. Suddenly, the wall of a building beyond was demolished as the form
of a dreadnought crashed wildly through, its left arm flailing wildly.
Behind it appeared the forms of a dozen or so black-armoured marines,
their armour festooned with grisly trophies and foul chaos icons. The
servos on its heavy weapon arm grinded in protest as it brought the
twin-linked lascannon to bear.
"Defensive position Beta-V!" yelled Hakkon, "By Russ we will send this
abomination to hell!" Then he spoke into his comm-net, "All unengaged
units, enemy sighted in Delta-quadrant I, we are engaging. Russ and the
Emperor are with us"
Just then the survivors in the rubble leapt forth to flee. The
dreadnought seemed to pause, as if the rage of battle was telling it to
callously slay the fleeing refugees. Lord Hakkon saw his chance.
"For Russ - Charge!"
It wasn't a command. As one, the ten warriors were already sprinting
towards the Chaos dreadnought, Bolters and Bolt pistols blazing. Bolter
fire from the Chaos Marines behind bounced harmlessly off their armour,
as they crossed the gap in mere seconds. Their return fire was more
effective - the searing plasma from Wolf Priest Heimdall's plasma pistol
burnt a hole cleanly through one of the traitors, while Wolf Guard
Brother Votan's unnerving accuracy found the head of another, the
armoured helmet with its horns and glyphs exploding in a shower of
blood, ceramite and bone.
The dreadnought opened fire with its lascannon and bolters, mercilessly
gunning down the fleeing refugess, just as the Space Wolves slammed into
it with all their berserk strength. The dreadnought staggered, then
swung its steel-cabled left arm around in a lightning fast arc. Brother
Verhal was lifted off his feet as he intersposed himself between the
dreadnought and his Lord, the steel cables slicing like butter through
his armour as they wrapped around him and tossed him casually to one
side, the gashes and gushing crimson blood showing in an instant that
the proud warrior would fight no more.
The Black Legion marines advanced quickly, pumping shot after shot at
the loyalists - here was an unsupported Space Wolf Commander, a worthy
trophy for their Dread Lord. Their maniacal grins were almost visible
underneath their helmets as they took up more offensive positions - the
dreadnought would deal with the mere Wolf Guard loyalist scum, leaving
the prize for them.
The combat with the dreadnought was quickening - Iron Priest Ryn severed
the cabling connecting the left arm with a well placed swipe of his
Thunder Hammer, and Heimdall plunged his plasma pistol in between the
armoured plates of the engine housing, setting it to overload. A ball of
plasma engulfed the rear of the dreadnought, as it staggered to one
side, crashing through two Wolf Guard and sending them sprawling into
the rubble, their bodies limp and unmoving.
All of a sudden the roar of a landspeeder came echoing down the ruined
street to the left of the renegades, heavy bolter shells pounding their
position. Seeing their dreadnought fall, they fell back quickly to
cover, eyes peeled for the attack of the speeder, and now the advance of
the Wolf Lord's retinue. At once bolter and shotgun fire erupted from
behind them. Wolf Scouts, returning from a foray, had heard their
commander's call, and were well placed to pin the traitors down.
Lord Hakkon and the remaining Wolf Guard charged recklessly into the
hastily entrenched Chaos marines. While they outnumbered the loyalists,
and were equal in skill and strength, the Chaos marines could not match
the ferocity with which the Sons of Fenris fought. Chainswords whirred a
dance of destruction and death as one by one, the Chaos marines fell,
until one remained.
Wolf Lord Hakkon casually ripped the boltgun out of the marines hands.
"You have forsaken the one true Emperor, and turned to the paths of
heresy. Their is only one punishment" His Lightning claw flashed
sideways once, eviscerating the Chaos marine, and then downwards,
cleaving the marine in two. His voice raised above the noise of the
battle that was closing,
"There is no respite for the enemies of mankind, and we will avenge our
lost brothers until the end of the Wolftime!"
End.
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