They were everywhere. The field was littered with corpses, and the enemy
was relentless. It was raining hard, and explosions and tracers filled the
sky. Brother Sergeant Darius took shelter in the lee of a broken and
battered predator. His armoured helmet filtered the cacophony around him.
His bike, now weary and battle rimed, still purred faithfully beneath him.
He glanced at his ammunition readout and grimaced. The twin-linked bolters
were low, and his fuel supply was not much better.
He turned his head to look back down the field. The carnage was
heartbreaking. Brother Marines and Imperial Guard lay dead or wounded as far
back as he could see. He gritted his teeth as he viewed the carnage. They
paid dearly with their deaths, and he knew the battle was desperate. The
forces of Chaos would not surrender. Nor would the Dark Angels accept
surrender. The only acceptable end to this battle would be the destruction
of the Emperor's enemies. During a brief lull in the firefight, he uttered
a prayer, breaking the unexpected silence inside his helmet. He prayed to
the Benevolent Emperor for His guiding eye and His protecting hand. He
prayed to his Primarch, wherever he might be. He prayed to the gods of his
home world to be guided true, and if he were to die this day, that his death
bring glory to the Emperor and to the Dark Angels.
He finished his brief litany at the same time an explosion rocked the
predator hulk. His cover had been compromised. That was as good a signal
from the Emperor as any that glory only came to those who hunted it down.
The traitors would soon learn that lesson. He cranked back on the throttle
as he depressed the clutch. The engine revved and as he released the brake,
the bike exploded forward in a wheelie.
* * *
Captain Brutus had been receiving heavy fire for the better part of an
hour. He was pinned down with no rearward support. The Chaos Legion
apparently knew this. The runes on his heads up display indicated a slow
advancing force. They were receiving fire from that direction at precise
intervals, which lead him to believe they were using bounding overwatch
tactics. From the firepower that they were receiving, the approaching
squads had some heavy weapons.
He was stuck inside an old Imperial Guard trench. The floor was muddy, and
slick. He hated ducking down like this. Bile formed in his mouth at the
feeling that his company may look on him as a coward. He knew better
though. He hadn't been made captain because he was a coward. The mark of
any good captain was to know when charging forward fearlessly was
appropriate, or when it was a waste of lives. This was a time when it was
not appropriate.
He looked at his tactical squad, surmising their condition. They were fresh
and ready for battle. They had arrived by drop pod, only to find that they
had landed too far ahead of the troops they were meant to reinforce. Those
same troops were now dying in an attempt to attain this ridge. The
situation was intolerable and he wondered briefly about the injustice of
landing so close to the traitors, and yet not landing behind them, so as to
at least create a second front. He asked the Emperor for strength.
* * *
As Sergeant Darius cleared the protection of the predator, he found he was
not alone. The Emperor had graced his squadron by protecting three others,
including an attack bike, from the traitors' bullets. He knew that tracer
fire would soon begin to explode around him and his brother marines, and so
commanded them to draw in on his position and maintain a loose formation.
His sensor pack indicated all the Dark Angel positions. His mission was to
reach the ridge and provide running support for the entrenched marines. The
remnants of the rearward force were even now flanking, trying to catch the
enemy from the rear, and forcing them into crossfire. He urged his brothers
faster as the tracer fire began to arc towards them. "For the glory of the
Emperor. For VENGEANCE!" His brothers echoed his battlecry as the ground
around them erupted in small explosions.
His bike shuddered and shook as it swept over the treacherous ground. He
knew it was no better for his brothers, but Captain Brutus was depending on
their support. Explosions now braced them as they veered and dodged back
and forth, using the terrain to best advantage to block them from the
traitors' line of sight. They were behind a line of dense trees now, and
the firing had diminished. They were safe from harm for the moment, but he
knew they would be in danger as soon as they rounded the woods.
He knew this was a death trap. There was nothing for it. Instinctively,
he leaned to his right and slammed on the rear hand brake, pulling a perfect
skid turn. His squadron followed unerringly as they now raced amongst the
trees. When they exploded from the sparse woods at top speed they new they
were blessed by the Emperor and had caught the traitors by surprise. The
field was free, and the tracer fire was now wildly firing where they should
have been had they not turned at the last moment. Darius thanked the
Emperor for His divine inspiration.
They raced onward, drawing ever more brilliant arcs of deadly light towards
them. The ground exploded as heat weapons cooked the rain soaked earth and
the mud boiled with a horrible hissing sound. Darius, guided ever onward by
his inspiration, dodged left and right as tracer rounds found only empty air
where he had just been, and exploded into the ground around him. A cloud
erupted ahead of the squadron, raining mud and deadly shrapnel upon them.
Yet, ever faithfully following Sergeant Darius, the squadron evaded safely,
briefly returning fire with the heavy mounted weapon on the attack bike.
They had entered no man's land. No other Dark Angel troops had come so far
save for those that were dropped in and entrenched ahead. The land above
the ridge was flat and there was no cover to be seen save for the empty and
mutilated drop pod ahead. Darius and his squadron were plainly visible,
easy targets, and drew ever more fire from the enemy. Sergeant Darius and
his battle brethren now raced against both time and death.
* * *
Brutus was aware of a change in the battle. The fire that he and his unit
were receiving was now reduced, diverted. He checked his sensors and took
heart to see that a squadron of bikes had emerged from the wood just east of
his position. They were diverting fire. NOW is the time! He thought. "To
battle, brothers! Now we press the attack! Now we destroy the betrayers!"
The Dark Angels bounded up from the trench. They limbered their bolters
and ran toward the next line of defence, ducking down as a reaper cannon
filled the air above them with a hail of red death. They were pinned down
yet again. This time, though, they could see the enemy. This time they
could fight back. They braced themselves, knowing their bolters had almost
no chance of penetrating the Chaos Terminators' armour, but with luck, and
support from their plasma gun and heavy bolter, they would win by sheer
numbers.
They waited for the command, letting Brother Alvar prepare the heavy bolter
while they released the safeties of their own weapons.
When he was ready, he nodded and they popped out of this second trench,
screaming, and opened up with all they had. The terminators, who were still
spraying reaper slugs at them, had moved dangerously close, and would be
close enough to charge. This was their only chance. The concussive sound
of bolters rapid firing threatened to overwhelm their autosenses as they lay
down a heavy barrage of deadly fire. Tracer fire whipped back and forth
between the two lines as Brother Alvar sprayed the terminators with a very
good spread at the same time that Brother Allamar fired his plasma gun.
Three of the terminators fell to the Heavy Bolter and Plasma gun, and then
another fell to the hail of rapid fire. The terminators drew their strafing
fire into a tighter, more deadly, line as they held their ground. A red
river of light erupted between the Chaos Terminators and the Dark Angels.
Brutus and his men ducked for cover, but not before a stream of deadly SABOT
found its mark and sent Brother Alvar to meet the Emperor. Alvar's brothers
screamed in agonised anger. Alvar was much loved by his brethren. Brutus
leaped to his feet and charged, blindly firing his bolter at the approaching
Chaos spawn as he screamed his hatred at them and they drew their sights
upon him.
The entrenched marines were stunned when the last Terminators fell to the
combined destructive force of the bike squadron's twin linked bolters and
the Attack Bike's Multi-Melta before they could engage Captain Brutus. As
the traitors fell, Sergeant Darius and his squadron flew over the trench,
landing hard in the soft ground, and raced forward at full throttle to meet
the onslaught, sending rooster tails of mud flying up behind them. The
Emperor was with the Dark Angels this day, and it harkened them.
Captain Brutus noted the green bikes as they roared into battle, and then he
ordered his squad forward. He received signal that the rest of the
detachment had successfully flanked the enemy, and were even now engaging
the traitors. This day would be won.
The marines advanced under cover yet again, firing at a squad of Chaos
Marines, and Brutus took the liberty of a quiet moment to take what seemed a
fatherly pride in Sergeant Darius, one of his own 6th Company. Darius, who
had helped turn the tide of battle, had been blessed this day by the Emperor
and would soon find a place in the Raven Wing.
End.
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